#and only enough time to grab a coffee and go

[hearts4hughes]

ೃ࿔:･ making rafe sleep on the couch

it started with something dumb. a harmless comment that hit the wrong nerve. the way he asked if you were really going to wear that top to dinner with his family, or the fact that he left every dish in the sink like you were his maid. nothing huge, just a spark. but it was the kind that lands in dry grass. you bit back, he bit harder, and suddenly you were both yelling over absolutely nothing.

his tone sharpens and yours stiffens. the air gets thick enough to choke. “i just asked a question,” he says, hands lifted like you’ve pulled a knife on him.

“no, you didn’t. you made a comment.” you snap, throwing your book onto the coffee table with a smack. your stomach tightens as you try to focus on the crackle of the red candle across the room.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, dragging a palm down his face. “are we really doing this?” he stares at your eyes. then at your lips. you avoid eye contact like the plague.

finally your eyes cut across the room, staring right through him. “you’re the one who started-”

“and you’re the one blowing it out of proportion.” he raises his voice an inch louder. silence fills the room like an elephant. you can hear the hum of the air conditioner and the distant chattering of the radio.

that’s it. your blood heats up like water on a stove. you scoff and storm down the hallway, steam pouring from your ears. the heels of your feet slam the floor harder than necessary. you throw the bedroom door open and it smashes against the wall.

he’s already close behind you, voice raised. “you’re being ridiculous.” his throat runs dry, hands balling into fists besides him. he bites down on his cheek hard enough to draw the taste of copper.

you don’t say anything. just rip his favorite pillows out from under the white comforter and throw them onto the ground. they plop onto the hard wood. you turn on your heels, arms crossed, and eyes absent of their usual spark.

“what the hell are you doing?” his voice snaps through the doorway, low and biting. he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway. he’s standing there with his jaw locked, shirt half unbuttoned. his eyes drop to the pillows on the floor, then back to you. “oh my fucking-”

you glare at him, pointing to the pillows. “you’re sleeping on the couch.”

his eyebrows shoot up, borderline laughing, but you’re too pissed to care. “you’re not serious right? there’s no way i’m sleeping on the-”

“no,” you cut in, cold and flat. there’s no room for debate. “i don’t want to sleep next to you. i don’t even want to look at you.” you turn away from him, eyes filling with salty tears.

the silence is thick and ugly. he opens his mouth but only swallows. he looks at the pillows on the ground like they betrayed him.

“fine,” he says eventually, voice low and bitter. “fucking fine.” he trudges across the room and grabs the pillows. he curses under his breath as he leaves. before he crosses the doorway, he looks back one last time. he imagines you running towards him and saying you didn’t mean it, but his eyes are met with your back as you face away from him.

the bedroom door clicks shut behind him.

~

you stare at the ceiling and flip the pillow. you curl tighter under the blanket, breathe in and out, slow, and force your eyes closed. but your body knows what it’s missing. it’s his heat, his weight, the way his hand always finds your waist even when you’re turned away. the soft, unconscious sigh he lets out just before he falls asleep.

every creak in the house feels louder. on the couch, rafe’s not feeling much different. he’s shifted his position, changed couches, and even hugged his pillow, yet nothing could replicate the feeling of comfort you gave him.

you hear him walk to the kitchen and back. he mutters something to himself under his breath. then the door creaks open. you don’t look.

he slips in like a ghost, like maybe if he moves quietly enough you won’t kick him out again. the bed dips under his weight, tentative. his hand grazes your arm. it’s light, careful, and everything the last few hours weren’t.

“i can’t sleep,” he says, voice raw. “not without you.” you still don’t face him. but your breathing stutters. he leans in anyway, presses his forehead to the back of your neck. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs, and this time it sticks. not an afterthought, not a truce…just the truth.

you shift, just barely, and he takes that as a hint. his strong arm scopes your figure and presses you against his warm chest. he wraps both of his arms around you and kisses the nook of your neck. and this time, you both sleep.

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[dontpulltohardman]

Nicknames

pairing: Thunderbolts*!Bucky x fem!Reader

requests: OPEN

asks: OPEN

warnings: fluff, bucky being a softy only for reader, super fluffy, nicknames like petal babydoll doll love being used, barely any swearing

word count: 783

summary: Bucky has so many nicknames for you that the rest of the team just can’t keep up with them.

this is my first fic soo please bare with me😭 hope you all enjoy please like, comment and reblog love you lots and lots like jelly tots🥰❤️

You and Bob were never morning people, that’s one thing you had in common, so when you were both woken up at the ass crack of dawn the first thing you both beelined for was the coffee machine.

You silently stood waiting for your mug to fill as Bob shuffled into one of the island chairs when a familiar scent of oak, vanilla and musk filled your senses. “Morning Doll” the name rolled off his tongue so easily like it was your birth name, he had evidently just finished a morning run, sweat glistened his skin and his hair was slightly tousled from the wind. It was a sight for your extremely sleep deprived eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your temple and lightly squeezed your hip before giving Bob a tight nod. He then grabbed his own mug, ushering you to sit down so he could handle both your cups of coffee. You complied, as you were still waking up, sitting next to Bob whose head was practically inside his own cup.

••••••

The team had just finished a very pointless meeting with Val leaving you with not only a migraine but a very empty stomach. It was just you and Yelena in the conference room as you both were to tired to move when suddenly, as if some food god up above heard your stomach growling, Bucky walked in with 2 bags of food, “I brought you lunch baby” a small smile was plastered on his face as he placed the bag in front of you. You smiled and said your thanks as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek before claiming the empty seat next to you as his own.

“You two are not only disgustingly cute but also evil for eating in front of me like that” Yelena groan from beside you, earning a few snickers from you and a soft grunt from bucky, “Here you go Lena” you smiled as her face lit up when you offered her a forkful of your meal. She quickly had her full, a couple more forkfuls from you and a sneaky one from Bucky’s plate, before leaving to scavenge for her own meal, leaving you and Bucky alone.

You glanced over at Bucky, he was already staring at you and with a look of confusion you muttered , “What?” a smirk threatened he lips as he simply replied, “I love you babydoll” you looked down at your lap to hide your smile when Bucky grasped your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him, “I love you too Buck” you muttered back just as his lips met yours.

•••••

It was another one of Alexi’s “team bonding exercises.” This time involving everyone to gather in the living room to watch a movie you were yet to pick. Though you usually dislike these exercises, you were greatly fond of this one making you go all out on the snacks and drinks, much to Alexi’s enjoyment. Yelena, Ava, Bob, Alexi and John shared the couch while you sat on the love seat waiting for Bucky to join you from the kitchen.

“Petal!” you perked up at the name waiting to hear Bucky’s voice while the others glanced between the two of you, “You want popcorn? or some gummies?” just as you were about you reply, John’s voice filled the room, “How many pet names do you have for her, jeez man” he scoffed, “Doll, baby, petal, babydoll” he recited the words trying to impersonate Bucky and comically failing, pulling a laugh from everyone while Bucky just glared at him.

“Mind your business John” he grumbled walking over to the love seat carrying a bowl of popcorn big enough for you to share and a pack of gummy worms knowing you would have said both anyways, “Here you go love” you smile placing a quick kiss to his cheek as the others just groaned.

safe to say Bucky wasn’t choosing just one nickname for you anytime soon, not that you had a problem with that anyway.

[mapileonxputellas]

A Blast From The Past (Part 3)

2.5k words.

Enjoy xx

“Lex!”

The second shout brought the both of you out of your little bubble. All you had time to do was quickly wipe your eyes of any remaining tears and put at least a foot between you both on the sofa before you were joined by the third presence.

It was only then that you remembered one crucial detail. This wasn’t Alexia from all those years ago, this wasn’t your Alexia, in fact there was a good chance she was someone else’s and going by the beautiful girl who just walked in – you were already too late. “Sorry I didn’t know you had company.”

“No it’s fine, I was just leaving.” You murmured, just about remembering to grab your bag and phone before practically sprinting to the door. Ignoring the eyes of both Alexia and the girl in the doorway. “Sorry for interrupting your night.”

“Y/N-“

Alexia’s voice was cut off as you shut the door not waiting for that embarrassment to see the light of day. For a second in there you thought you had a chance, you’d been through the heartache, you’d found your way back to each other and now this was your chance to be happy. But sometimes life just doesn’t work that way.

You somehow managed to get both out of Alexia’s gate and safely drive yourself home without crashing your car. For a second in that room, sat on that sofa, you thought it was possible. That these years apart could be forgotten and you could start afresh. Now you realised you were just her teammate’s doctor she met again by accident, nothing more.

……

The next week went by with a blur, you were trying everything possible to get her out of your head and yet it was impossible. Work was a distraction, when you were with patients you could clear your mind but then the second you entered your lonely apartment it all came flooding back. She’d called you a few times that night and the days after but the messages she left went unheard.

You should have known things couldn’t go back to each other, you’d moved on, she’d moved on. Except you hadn’t moved on and as you ate your lunch on your day off you’d never felt more lonely, more isolated in a city where you still had no-one.

It was your phone that brought you out of your slumber, the bowl of pasta in front of you going slightly cold as you looked out over the city. A city full of life – a city that was home and wasn’t home at the same time.

The unknown number puzzled you but you answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Hey,” The voice was familiar but not familiar enough that you could put a name to it. “It’s Kika.”

“Kika, is everything ok?”

“Yes….no…. I don’t really know.” She confused and the way her voice slightly broke mid-answer broke your heart a bit. “I’m sorry for calling you, I know you probably don’t want to be talking about work…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got nothing better to do. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Could we meet somewhere? I know a nice café a few blocks from where I live, but maybe you don’t live in the centre, it was a stupid idea-“

“Kika, send me the location, I’ll be there in ten.”

The café wasn’t quite what you were expecting. It was a cozy place, nestled in a little alleyway, barely anyone in and you spotted Kika instantly sat at the back. You just ordered a coffee and cake before joining her.

“Hey, how are you doing?” You asked the brunette, not rushing her as she tumbled through her own mind.

The silence only lasted a few seconds but it was deafening. “I’m worried.”

Again it went quiet before you filled in the gaps. “About the surgery.” The surgery that was scheduled for tomorrow, first on the list.

“I’ve just about got my life together, I’m playing well at a huge club and now I’m about to be bed bound for the next few days.”

“I know there’s nothing I can do to calm your nerves but I’ve done your surgery before, it went well. I’m confident yours will be a success. Have you got someone to be there afterwards?”

“My family are staying with me, they’ll be there.”

“Good. I know it’s hard but have a good night’s sleep tonight and we’ll be all ready for you tomorrow.”

“How did you get into surgery if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No ask away.” The distraction technique was one you knew all to well. “I grew up in a little town, when I was young my younger sister became quite unwell, I had to watch her go in and out of hospital. The doctors and surgeons saved her life, and I wanted to help people like that.”

“Was your younger sister ok in the end?”

“Yes, she has to go in for checks every now and then but so far she’s healthy. When I was 18, I moved to Barcelona to come to medical school and apart from a few years, I’ve lived here ever since.”

“Have you worked with footballers before?”

“No, I try and stay away from them if I’m particularly honest-“ Shit maybe that was too close to home.

“What do you mean?”

“I just know how much you love your job and well let’s face it some of you can be tricky to work with.”

You waited to see how she would react to that and thankfully you managed to get a laugh out of Kika. “You’ve got a fair point there. We’re not all like that though.”

“No?”

“No.” She confirmed. “They’re all good at Barcelona, they’ve looked after me.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“They all of course have their funks – like Alexia right now this past week she’s been a nightmare.”

Of course that perked you up but you had to keep a nonchalant face right now. “Do you know why?

“No idea, all I know is she came in a few days ago and she’s just in a mood all the time.”

“Maybe it’s just something going on at home.” You tried to suggest. “We all sometimes struggle with issues with our families or partners.”

“Alexia and partner you’ve got to be joking. Alexia only spends time wither her family.”

Like you hadn’t seen someone else in her house literally the other night. “You never know, she might just keep it private.”

“Nah, everyone on the team teases her about it. Apparently she’s never even seemed interested – must have had her heart broken or something.”

Oh if only she knew. “Yeah….”

“Anyway, I’m sure you’ve got other stuff to be doing so I’ll let you go, thank you for meeting me.”

“No worries, like I said if you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thank you”

…..

Alexia didn’t know what to do.

She’d tried ringing you, you didn’t answer.

She left you messages, you never responded, maybe you’d never even read them.

She respected you too much to show up to your place of work but after a week she was becoming desparate.

It looked bad, she could admit that. The two of you were having a moment on the sofa, she knew you felt it as much as she had.

She’d tried to date at the very start, none of them made it past the second date if that. They never had what you two had right from the start and that wasn’t good enough for her. So it became futile, she would have moments, nights even, with other women but that’s where it stayed.

Kika had her surgery yesterday, the club had informed everyone it had gone well and Kika was resting well at home. Of course as captain Alexia felt like she had a duty to play here, this was one of her players, a friend now and she had a spare evening.

It was pretty well known to everyone where Kika lived, the social butterfly was always one to offer her apartment for any team events. The door code was pinned in one of the many team group chats, each with their own content.

With flowers in one hand and chocolates in the other she managed to get all the way to her apartment floor before realising she should have checked whether someone else would be in to answer the door. Kika was meant to be on bed rest.

Thankfully though for her before she could even knock the door flung open and an older coupled, who looked similar to Kika walked out.

“Hola, you must be Alexia.”

“Nice to meet you, I just brought some things for Kika.”

“Go straight in,” The woman, who must be Kika’s mother answer. “Someone else just arrived so we thought we’ve leave them to it and have the night off. I’m sure they’ll be glad for some company.”

“Thank you.”

She wasn’t sure who she was expecting to find here. In her mind it was probably Ellie, maybe Ingrid, maybe Esme.

What she hadn’t prepared for was to find Kika led across one couch and the other to be occupied by you – the two of you laughing between you both. She might have been here for one friend but she couldn’t take her eyes off you.

“Alexia.” Kika noticed her presence. Her eyes shifted before you could catch her staring but she could feel her cheecks heating up anyway. “What are you doing here?”

Now is the time to be cool and composed, she could be in and out and then have her meltdown. “The team brought you some flowers and I thought chocolates might help.”

“Please sit down.”

“No it’s alright I can see you have company.”

“Y/N doesn’t mind, right?”

“No of course.” You plastered on a fake smile, unfortunately the only seat free was right next to you and however much you could have ignored her across the room you definitely can’t do that now. “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Liar.” Kika coughed under her breath. “Y/N’s wise you know, I’m sure she’d be able to help you with whatever’s going on right now.”

“Nothing’s going on.” Alexia denied instantly, keeping her eyes on the other sofa. “Anyway you’re the focus right now.”

“I don’t want to talk about my ankle right now. You two must be the same age right?”

“I think so.” A little bit of an underexaggeration, her birthday just a few weeks before your own was still in your calander.

“And you both went to university here, did you ever cross paths?” It would have been easy to lie, thousands of students filtered through Barcelona every near never crossing paths. Except the both of you stayed eerily silent and even with the pain medication Kika smirked in realisation. “You have met before.”

“You know what I think I’m going to leave you two to it.” Again you were fleeing but what else could you do, you weren’t exactly about to speak to one of your patients, now probable friend, about how you’d been interrupted the other night. “Kika, I’ll message you.”

You’d barely even gone out of the room before Alexia stood, she’d let you walk out on her one time and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.

“Y/N wait!” Alexia shouted, her pace catching up with you before you could even make it down the stairs, it was pointless and you’d rather do it here indoors than out there where anyone could be about.

“What do you want Alexia?”

“What do I want?” She questioned, her footsteps being met by yours retreating but you had nowhere to go and before you knew it she was right in front of you. “I want you to let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? You’ve moved on, we’re different people.”

“That’s bullshit, we showed the other night we might be older, we might be different but you’re still mine and I’m still yours.”

“And then your gilrfriend walked in on us.”

“Girlfriend.” She almost laughed but the sadness on your face made her stop. “That was my best friend, there is no girlfriend, there’s never been a girlfriend. She knew who you were, I still have some photos on my phone of us and she knew instantly it was you. How can I love someone else when I've only ever loved you.”

“I shouldn’t have ran.” You could see that now.

“Lets face it everyone would have done the same.” The silence grew between you both, you both had lots to say and nothing to say at the same time. Alexia did have one question to ask though. “There’s nothing going on between you and Kika though right? It’s just the two of you-“

“There’s nothing going on there, I would never do that to you.”

“Good.”

And then before you could think any further she leaned forward and pressed her lips to yours.

It was just like you could remember and yet ten times better, here in this corridor it was just the two of you, no-one else in the world could bother you. Her lips were soft, a hint of cherry fusing with the peach you’d applied to your own lips. Her mouth slightly opening enough to let you in and yours could only respond similarly, your mind was literally in heaven right now.

You could have stayed like that forever but someone had to let go and you knew you had to do that before it got too far.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, a blush coating both your cheeks as you tried to hide your smiles as much as possible.

“I was thinking why don’t we go back to mine, we could-“

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Alexia.” Kissing her was one thing but so was making plans with her and keeping this secret any longer.

“Why not? You’re the one for me, I know you are and I know I’m the one for you too. Stay with me.”

“I have to go.” The tears which you’d held onto for so long were coming out now as you scrambled out of her hold.

Your heart only broke further as you looked back to her own tears streaming down her face. “Don’t leave again, please.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.”

“I can’t.” You almost shouted. “Have you told your mum and sister you’ve seen me again?”

“I’ve mentioned your name.”

“And what did they say?”

“They didn’t really say anything – nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Ask them about me again.” You reiterated moving further down the corridor.

“What about?”

“Ask them why I left and don’t stop until you find out the truth.”

[love-bucky-3000]

Been Forever (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 18+

Summary: Bucky can't last after not being touched for so long

WC= ~5.5K

Warnings: smut, needy!bucky (though i dont think i portrayed it well but hopefully you like it), reference to assault but not graphic

a.n: hii second fic in forever. i wanted to write needy bucky so hopefully i did him justice! share and like:)

Bucky shuffled his way into the kitchen area early that morning, cursing his internal clock for waking him up early after a week-long mission. It was an easy mission, but a week-long stay with Walker would drive anyone crazy. Bucky huffed as he went to pour a cup of coffee before realizing the pot was empty. 

“Sorry, I emptied already.” Bucky jumped out of his skin at the sound of Yelena’s voice. She was sitting on top of the dining table, watching him. Widows seem to be the only people that could still scare the soldier. 

“And you didn’t fill it up.. Why?..”

Yelena shrugged and took a drink from a mug that probably fit the whole pot of coffee in it, “Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky shot her a glare before reaching up and grabbing the coffee grounds from the cabinet. Stark had put in automatic coffee makers before leaving the tower but those pods cost an arm and a leg and Bucky just can’t get behind using their budget on something as small as an espresso pod, no matter how much Walker nags him. 

As the coffee brews, Bucky turns and rests his lower back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing Yelena. They sit in silence, comfortable silence, listening to the coffee pot do its thing. Yelena is staring off into the New York skyline, Bucky’s sure she’s thinking of all the paperwork still needed to be filled out from last week’s mission. 

“Ya kno-” Yelena’s voice is cut off by the beep on the coffee machine. Bucky raises his eyebrow in a way that says "continue” as he turns to pour himself coffee.

“You hang out here a lot is all I was going to say.”

Bucky filled his mug as he contemplated her statement.

“Where else am I supposed to go?” He used to hang out with Sam between therapy appointments and missions, but he hasn’t heard from Sam in a while now that he’s thinking about it.

“No, nowhere. I’m just saying I don’t see you get out very often.” Yelena’s voice breaks his thoughts before they start to spiral. Maybe he should call Sam. 

“I do supply runs.”

“The grocery store doesn’t count. When was the last time you, I don’t know” she waved her free hand in the air, thinking of what she wanted to say, “.. had sexual relations?”  

The mug slipped out of Bucky’s hand, thankfully not breaking and only spilling a couple drops of coffee onto the counter top. “Huh? Since when do the Avengers care about other Avengers sex life?” 

“I’m sure Tony did.”

She probably had a point. Bucky rolled his shoulders back and looked out into the skyline. Between therapy, missions, and learning to function as a human again, it’s been a while to say the least. He tried to flirt with Sam’s sister, Sarah, but that only earned him a slap to the head and stern talking to from Sam. He tried to start something with the cashier down at the local bodega where the team gets their after-mission meals from, but the owner, the cashier’s dad, said he would take away their Avengers discount if he tried anything. He was tempted to push it, but the cashier said she was dating someone already anyway and slipped him an extra bag of M&Ms into his bag with a smile. Oh well, Bucky hopes they’re happy.

“So..” Oh right, there was a spider demanding his attention right now. 

“I don’t know, Yelena, you know I don’t remember much from Hydra.” Bucky hoped that bringing up the sensitive topic would be enough to deter the conversation but he forgot who he was talking to.

“I’m talking about since then, James.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at the use of his first name and spun around to look at her. She tried to act uninterested in his answer by picking the polish off her nails, but he knew she wouldn’t let it go. Bucky let out a sigh and tried to rack his brain for the partners he has had. Dot, back in 1930ish, let him touch her breast once before being shipped off to war. Then, well, nothing he could remember. He used to be very familiar with his right hand but even that relationship has fizzled. 

Yelena was watching him again, her nail polish forgotten for the time being. He shrugged and looked out over the kitchen. She gasped and her eyes widened, “you really haven’t been with someone since you’ve been back?” Bucky gave her a “duh” look and finished off the rest of his coffee. “Why do you care?”

“Because, as leader of this team, I vow to make sure everyone is taken care of! You’re tense, I could see it last week!” The New Avengers really didn’t have a leader but Yelena claims to be when she wants something. “I was tense because Walker is a dumbass.”

It was Yelena’s turn to roll her eyes. She hopped off the table and came to stand next to Bucky. They would be shoulder to shoulder if Bucky wasn’t almost a foot taller. “Come out with us tonight, you never do.” The team goes down to the local bar almost every Saturday night. Bucky never went, claiming alcohol doesn’t affect him anymore, which isn’t a lie, but he knew sooner or later they would convince him to come anyway. He guessed now was that time. 

Bucky glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to find her staring directly at him. He sighed and reached a hand up to push his long hair back. He is about due for a cut. 

Finally, he nodded and Yelena hissed out a “Yess!!” then scurried away. Bucky looked at the time on the microwave clock and mentality counted the hours left until he had to face hell. He had about 10 hours to wallow about his decision.

10 hours came and went quickly. Before he knew it, he was showered, his hair was blowdried and shiny thanks to the products Yelena gifted him for his birthday and now he was staring at his all black closet, hoping an outfit would jump out and kill him. 

His eyes scanned the dark garments before settling on dark jeans, a black shirt and his leather jacket. It’s what he wears everyday but this time, he’ll spray cologne on himself to make it a fancy outfit. He grabbed his boots and set out to meet the rest of the crew who left over an hour ago, yelling at him to hurry his ass up.

The streets of New York felt like home to Bucky, but he knew how dangerous the dark alleyways could be. He cleaned Steve off too many dirty gravel grounds to think they were safe. And he wasn’t foolish to think that just because he lived in Stark Tower that the roads were safe outside his front door. 

Bucky made his way down the lit street, checking over his shoulder and down alleyways for any disturbances. The bar was about 5 blocks away, he could make it before having a panic attack. Surely. Therapy tried to fix that part of him but he believes the anxiety was born with him.

Bucky made it about 2 blocks before a scream and some shuffling reached his ears. He was now on high alert, looking for the cause of the commotion. The knife he kept up his sleeve slipped down into his hand as his eyes tracked up and down the street. It was empty of people. “Stop it!! Help me!!” came from just up ahead. It was a woman, Bucky could tell that much. He cautiously stepped towards the alleyway to his right. Bless the serum for sharpening his eyesight in darkness because he could easily see a man push the woman to the ground and cock a gun in her face. 

“Shut up, bitch, before you get us caught.” The man snarled and shook the gun in your face. He stumbled, clearly drunk. Being drunk and waving a gun around isn’t usually a good combo. Bucky strutted forward and grabbed the man’s arm as it swung backwards. Bucky twisted it and the man let out a sharp yelp of pain. Bucky grabbed the gun from the twisted hand and threw it somewhere behind him and pushed the guy to the ground.

He struggled to stand up but Bucky’s boot to the chest stopped him. 

“Come on, man. Nothing going on here, just let us be.” The man was struggling to catch his breath and talk at the same time. Bucky looked over to you who had pushed your back against the dirty wall. 

‘She shouldn’t be dirtying that pretty dress.’ Bucky thought to himself. The short blue dress fits you perfectly. His eyes reached your face and made eye contact with yours. His heart thumped against his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a while. 

Bucky gave a slight uplift to his mouth, a sorry excuse for a smile but that’s all he could manage looking at a pretty girl. Damn, he used to be a charmer. He was about to ask you if you were hurt but the dumbass on the ground let out a groan then threw up. Bucky grimaced and lifted his foot off his chest so nothing got on himself. He looked back at you, who stood up and dusted yourself off, feeling confident that the drunk mess of a man wasn’t going to hurt you anymore, not while Bucky was around. 

He offered you his hand and you took it gently. Bucky could feel you shaking, but he thought better of squeezing your hand. He didn’t wanna scare you off. He led you towards the street light at the end of the alley. People were starting to emerge from the restaurants and bars that lined the streets, dinner time reaching an end. Bucky guided you to a bench outside a closed flower shop and sat you down. He sat down too, not wanting to hover. He watched as your eyes traced over the flower pots sitting next to the bench while you gathered your thoughts.

“Um, thank you for saving me..” your voice was timid and a little shaky but Bucky could see the color coming back to your face, so he wasn’t worried about you passing out on him. He smiled, a genuine smile this time, and shook his head. “It was really no problem, doll. Do you need someone to walk you home?” He internally cringed because of course you wouldn’t want a stranger to know where you lived. He back tracked, “I’m meeting a few friends at a bar down the street. I can get Yelena or Ava to walk you home.” He was a little selfish, but he wanted the extra few minutes with you by walking you to the bar. 

He saw a small smile pass across your lips, seemingly grateful that he offered to send you home with his female friends. You looked up at him and your eyes caught the light of the street lamp above and Bucky’s heart jumped again. What is going on?

“I would like that if you don’t care.” you said. You both stood up and Bucky pointed you to the right, leading you towards the bar. A breeze caught your hair and a waft of vanilla hit his senses and, well, other places. He paused and took a deep breath. No one has ever affected him this much. You noticed him pause and turned back towards him looking at him questionably. He smiled again, this time it probably looked more like a grimace, as he resumed his steps. 

The wind picked up again and Bucky noticed you shiver. One thing he remembered from the 30s is to offer your coat to a freezing gal. He didn’t forget everything. He shrugged off his coat and tapped you on the shoulder. You spun around and looked at him again. Bucky watched as your eyes traveled from his face, down his arm, then rested on the jacket in his hand. “Here, the wind is picking up and I run hot.” He doesn’t know why he told you that, but it made you smile and his heart pick up again. “Thank you..” She put her arms through the jacket and looked at him. Oh, you wanted a name. “You can call me, Bucky.”

 They continued walking and Bucky couldn’t stop staring at you from the corner of his eye. He kept telling himself to stop being a creep but you just looked so damn good in his jacket. It fits you well. You weren't swimming in it. It looked like you owned it and Bucky liked the thought of her owning his clothes more than having them swallow her up. Though he would like to swallow her.

They reached the bar before Bucky could fully form the thought of you wearing more of his clothes. He nodded at the guard at the front and stepped in. The music was low enough to talk over, but loud enough for silence to not be awkward. He found Yelena, Ava, Walker and Bob sitting towards the back. As he was making his way towards them, a large hand clasped his shoulder. “Bucky! You join us tonight! And with such a pretty lady, who is this!” Alexei’s voice boomed in Bucky’s ear. He winced from the sound and at the realization that he forgot to ask your name. Bucky’s wide eyes took in your expression. You looked happy, she was laughing. You reached out a hand to Alexei and introduced yourself.

“Hi, my name is Y/N. Bucky found me in an alleyway a few minutes ago,” you joked.

Alexei’s eyes pinballed between yours and Bucky’s and then busted out laughing. Alexei brought you two to the table and conversation halted at the sight of her. “Bucky made a friend!” The table erupted into cheers and Yelena scooted over to allow you to take a seat. “Join us!” She demanded. 

“Yelena, no, I was just coming to ask if you would take Y/N home.” He didn’t spare any details, but the hard look in Bucky’s eyes made Yelena pause. But you shocked him. He was shocked to see you sit down next to Yelena and introduce yourself to everyone, looking so at home in his jacket. Alexei pulled him down beside him and passed out the drinks he obtained from the bar.

 He kept his gaze on you for the rest of the time, though the bar closed only about an hour after you both arrived. You were cutting up and passing around jokes with his team. In his jacket. And sometimes, your foot would catch his and you would look up at him through your lashes and your lips would curl around the straw in your drink and Bucky’s thoughts would spiral again. He thought of you on your knees, looking up at him just like you are now. Your lips wrapped around something much bigger than that straw. Bucky was currently jealous of that straw.

The bartender signaled for last call and the team groaned. Everyone but Bucky. Bucky has been trying not to cream his pants since you sat down. His zipper is pressed in the perfect spot to rub against his cock every time he was moved and Alexei loved to push him when something was extra funny. Bucky felt guilty. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, but he couldn’t help how he felt. 

The team made their way out of the bar so the staff could close, and you hung around Bucky, closely. “Y/N, we can take you home now.” Ava said, gesturing to her and Yelena. Yelena smiled and nodded. Bucky watched as you bit your lip and looked up at him. Good god, he’s not going to make it home. 

“Actually, I was hoping Bucky’s offer of him taking me home was still on the table..” Walker whistled and Bucky shot him a go to hell look before turning his attention back to you. You looked uncertain, scared he was going to turn you down. “Of course, whatever you want.” And he meant whatever you wanted. You could walk him like a dog and all he would do was bark. Your face lit up and you thanked the rest of the team for letting you crash their night. You were met with a chorus of  “anytime!” and a “let me get your number” from Yelena. 

After some goodbyes, you led Bucky down the street, informing him your apartment wasn’t too far away. Bucky gave you a tight lipped smile, mumbling a quick “not a problem, doll” but it was a problem. Because every step he took rubbed his zipper into his hard cock. He attempted to adjust himself after you turned around but he didn’t want to grope himself in public so he just had to deal with it. 

The walk to your apartment was over quicker than Bucky would have liked. You two spoke the entire walk which took his mind off his throbbing erection, thankfully. Bucky walked you up the steps to your apartment door. Bucky was glad to see the security measures in place here, but he knew they were expensive. He hoped you weren't struggling to afford it. The thought of moving you to the tower crossed his mind but he pushed it back. ‘Take her out for dinner first, geez,’ he thought to himself.

“Would you like a cookie? I baked them this morning…” Your voice trailed off and you were looking at him through your lashes again. ‘Fuck me, she bakes too’ he thought. 

Not one to disappoint you, he said yes and his heart thumped at the smile you gave. You led him into your apartment, the entryway opened straight into your living room. It was small but clean and filled with plants. ‘I guess the flowers from earlier calmed her down’ Bucky thought. 

“Take a seat, get comfy, I’ll be back!” You said as you kicked your shoes off. You didn’t take off his jacket and his cock twitched at the thought of taking it off himself. Bucky followed suit and toed his boots off, not wanting to get any mud on the fluffy rug you had underneath the coffee table. Bucky sat towards one side of the couch, leaving you space to sit. He took deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart but all he could smell was vanilla. He couldn’t get enough of it. 

You practically skipped back into the living room with a tray of cookies and settled into the couch, much closer to Bucky than he thought you would. You flipped on the TV to a random channel then turned to Bucky. You offered the tray and he took one. You followed suit, picking one up and taking a bite. You moaned slightly at the taste and the cookie paused halfway between Bucky’s mouth and the tray at the sound. It went straight to his cock. 

You laughed at yourself. “Sorry, I haven’t made these in so long, I forgot how good they were.” You were distracted by the TV and didn’t see how Bucky almost crushed the cookie in his fist. Bucky quickly ate the cookie to avoid any disasters and he’ll admit, it was the best damn cookie he ever had. Bucky mindlessly watched the TV, thoughts of you naked swirling in his head, not helping his boner problem. 

“So..” you startled Bucky out of his racing thoughts. He hummed and turned towards you. You were sitting with your legs tucked under you, the length of the dress showing off your thick thighs. Bucky wanted to die between those thighs. “Eyes up here, soldier.” You giggled and Bucky’s face turned beet red. “S-sorry” he coughed to clear his throat and looked you in the eyes. Your eyes traced his body. The black shirt doing nothing to hide the muscles bulging beneath it. You followed the dip of his abs down to the buckle of his pants, then followed the seam of his jeans to see his trapped cock straining against the fabric. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you took in the sight. He was so hard, yet, he wasn’t going to touch you without permission. That warmed your heart and your core.

You watched his cock twitch as you released your lip from your teeth and you glanced back up at him. Bucky had his eyes locked on to you. A bomb could go off and it wouldn’t take his eyes off of you. You could see the longing and desperation in his eyes. You knew who he was. The soldier. You watch the news. When he saved you earlier, the heat prickled at your core just seeing him break that guy’s arm. You didn’t know the guy and thankfully he didn’t hurt you, but you did appreciate Bucky breaking his arm. You were going to take him home to screw after a long week at work, but he couldn’t keep his hands to himself in public and that gave you the ick. Flash forward to now, and you hoped Bucky would be into filling the emptiness of your bed.

“I’ll be honest with you, Bucky. I was going to bring that guy home and fuck him,” Bucky tensed at the mention of the guy who almost hurt you but you settled him with a hand to his chest. Heat spread through Bucky at the contact. Has it really been that long that a simple touch was making him crazy? You continued, “but thanks to you, I won’t be messing around with a boy.” You smirked as you felt his heart rate kick up under your hand. You rubbed his chest and snaked your hand up and around his neck, playing with the strands at the base of his skull. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, but opened quickly, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. You scooted closer on the couch, your body now pushing against the side of him and your vanilla shampoo filled his brain. 

“I’ve been really lonely these past few weeks, Bucky, and I reallyyy need someone to take care of me, are you the man for that?” You purred against his ear and gently tugged on the strands of hair, testing the waters. Bucky moaned at the sting and you felt his body relax back into the couch, his head falling back into your hand. “I can try..” he grunted out, “but…” he cleared his throat and looked down at you, “it’s been awhile…”. You grinned and cooed at him, “It’s okay, baby, you’ll try your best right?” 

You don’t know where this dominance is coming from, but seeing Bucky almost losing it already to the lightest of touches was enough to turn you to goo. Bucky whimpered and his cock twitched again, “I’ll make you feel good, please.” You rewarded him with a scratch to the back of his neck and climbed onto his lap, your legs on each side of his thighs. Bucky let out a loud moan and gripped your hips, helping you settle. You found his lips, kissing him gently, giving him space to pull away. He didn’t want that. His hand flew to the back of your head, pinning you to him, deepening the kiss. 

His other hand made its way under his jacket you were still wearing and rested on your back. Your hands found their way back to his hair, pulling groans from his mouth with every tug. The kiss only broke because of your need for air and you both were huffing. His hand kept you close and he nosed along your neck, spreading burning kisses across your collarbone and up to your ear where he groaned, “do you know what seeing you in my jacket did to me?” You did, but you shook your head, wanting him to answer. “I’ve been hard for hours, doll. I could blow right fucking now.” 

“Really?” you faked innocence, choosing now as the perfect time to lower your core to his, grinding slowly across his cock. “Fuck!” he groaned out, sounding like you just knocked the breath out of him. You giggled, and trailed kisses of your own across his neck. He let you, leaning his head back to give you more room. You kept your hips moving slowly, his hands now squeezing your hips hard, not stopping you from moving. He was whimpering and moaning, letting out a little “ah ah ah!” and “fuck baby”s as you moved your hips. At some point, he removed your jacket and he took turns biting and sucking on your exposed shoulder. 

You were lost in your own world, listening to his moans and whines about how fucking good your pussy feels on him. You were soaked and you wouldn’t be surprised if his jeans were wet. You were about to lean up and recommend this continue upstairs when a sharp whine reached your ears. It shocked you, thinking you hurt him. Strong arms locked around your waist and you felt Bucky thrust up into hard. Heat spread below you and his cock twitched endlessly. You thought you heard pleas of “I’m sorry, fuck, so sorry” through his moans that were being direced into your neck. You gently brushed your fingers through his hair and told him how good he was making you feel, which just prolonged his orgasm. His hips kept thrusting up into you, rubbing your clit through your panties. ‘Shit, this might make me cum too’ you thought.

Finally, he came back to you. He brought his face out of your neck, he looked embarrassed and upset. He avoided eye contact with you and attempted to set you on the couch beside him. You wouldn’t let him. You locked your legs around his waist and gently tilted his head up to meet your eyes. “Bucky..” 

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbled as he swallowed and looked at you. You couldn’t tell if the red on his face was embarrassment or from his orgasm. “Feel better?” You couldn’t help but tease him but you settled the sting with a hard kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, he spoke, “I’m really sorry, doll. I just haven’t been touched in so long.” You didn’t like how ashamed he looked. That was hot as fuck. You brushed the stray strands of his hair out of his face and cupped his cheeks. You gave him a wide smile and kissed him again. Slowly this time. Wanting him to feel how much you liked him.

“Don’t apologise for that, honey. It was hot getting a guy off without lifting a finger.”

He chuckled at that and looked over your face, taking it in. “I guess it’s time I return the favor.” The world spun around as he flipped you on your back flat on the couch. He knelt between your spread thighs and took in your red face, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took and the damp spot on your underwear- which he was honored to find out was the same shade of blue as your dress. He smiled at that. 

Bucky ran his hands up and down your thighs before they came to rest at the apex, right next to where you wanted him the most. You whined out a “Bucky, please” and pushed your hips up towards his touch. Bucky hid a smile by biting his lip and hummed. “What do you want?” Now, he wanted to tease. You whined again and reached down and moved your own panties to the side, using two fingers to spread your pussy open, exposing how wet and ready you were for him to his own eyes. 

Bucky groaned at the sight. “Look at that, baby. You spreading yourself so I can see?” He husked out and removed your hand from your pussy before you could touch yourself more. You whined at the loss of contact but he quickly replaced your fingers with his own. Two of his thick fingers found your entrance, and scooped up some slick, spreading it up to your clit. You blushed as your legs fell impossibly wider. He chuckled at your eagerness and continued to put pressure on your clit. “How’s that feel, baby? Is that better?” You nodded, throwing your head back with a moan. He trailed his fingers back down to your entrance, inserting his middle finger inside. You arch your back into his hand. It’s been months since someone else has touched you there. You tell him such in a moan, and you see his eyes grow impossibly darker. “Good, because I wanna be the only person you’re thinking of right now. I want you to think of me every time you go to touch this little pussy.” 

You moaned and arched your back again, his finger speeding up inside of you. You beg him for more, which he gives with a “only the best for my girl” and inserts his middle finger into the mix and pushes them back in together. The fingers pause once they’re all the way in and you don’t have the time to voice your disappointment as a warm mouth makes contact with your clit. Your hips go to jolt off the couch but his metal hand keeps you in place. 

Bucky starts the suction on your clit at the same time he resumes fucking your pussy with his fingers. You’re moaning, whining and squirming, he’s brought you to the edge so fucking fast that you can’t breath. His fingers nor mouth ease in their actions, forcing you into one of the best orgasms of your life. 

Bucky feels you clinch around his fingers and he moans around your clit in your mouth, fueling the fire in your gut. Your legs are shaking around his head and your hands are attempting to push his mouth away but he only lets up when your whines turn a little pained. 

He sits up and wipes his mouth with the bottom of his shirt, exposing his abs and vline to you. If you weren’t so fucked out, you would admire it more. “You okay, baby? Where’s the bathroom?” You nod and lazily point down the hall. Bucky laughs and gets up. He shushes you when you whine and he comes back quickly with a warm wash cloth. He cleans you up and sets you up against him, rubbing his hands up and down your legs to encourage the feeling to come back to them. You yawn.

“Where’s your bed, doll?” You manage a smirk and point upstairs. He rolls his eyes at your smirk and picks you up bridal style. His smile softens at the way you curl up into him. He finds your bedroom and places you down on the ground after you whine about needing to find clothes. He would rather you be naked but it’s your home, your rules. He watches as you pick out underwear and a big t-shirt and backs up towards the door. You look at him and knit your eyebrows together, “you leaving? You can stay here.” You nod towards the bed. He wants to, but he kinda still has a mess in his pants. You see his hesitation. Then remember. You laugh and grab a pair of boxers from another drawer and throw it at him. His eyebrows shoot up and you explain, “my brother left them here years ago, they’re clean.” 

He looks at the boxers in disgust but he realises that it’s his way of being able to stay. You gesture to the ensuite bathroom and pull the covers back on the bed and get in. Bucky changes and comes back to find you on your side, facing away from the empty side of the bed. He gets in and gently puts his arm around your waist. He relaxes once you mold yourself into his body. Bucky hasn’t slept this well since the war.

[littlejackles]

you honestly didn’t mean to make it sexy. you meant to clean, actual cleaning. the bunker needed it—months of dust layering every single flat surface, cluttered tables full of open books and weapons that should’ve been stashed or thrown away. even the coffee machine had developed some kind of sticky mystery puddle under it. so you woke up early, put on shorts and one of your cropped tanks—because you thought it’d be hot once you got moving—and dragged two grumbling winchesters into the middle of it.

now, after a lot of convincing, sam’s vacuuming the rugs in the library room with his hair tied up and sleeves rolled, looking entirely too good for someone doing domestic labor; and dean’s carrying a stack of cleaning rags and muttering about child labor laws, even though he’s the one that made the playlist blaring through the speakers.

you’re barefoot, swiping a cloth over the lore table, bent forward just enough that the hem of your shorts rides up with every pass. you catch dean looking for the third time when you straighten up and stretch your arms over your head.“eyes up, winchester,” you say, grabbing the spray bottle again. “unless you’re about to volunteer for dusting duty.”

he smirks, flicks his gaze down again anyway, and shrugs.“can’t help it,” he says. “you bend over in those shorts and expect me to focus on chores? you’re the one setting us up for failure.”

sam sighs behind you. “she said she wanted help, dean. try not to undress her with your eyes every five seconds.” you hear the vacuum shut off. “i’m gonna go wipe down the shelves in the library,” he says, footsteps retreating. “let me know when the sexual tension’s resolved.”

“spoiler alert,” dean calls after him, “it never is.” you laugh quietly and go back to scrubbing the edge of the table. you know alreay know that dean is behind you and you know without looking that he hasn’t picked up a single rag since sam walked away.

it only takes a minute before you feel the warmth of his chest behind you, before his hand lands on your hip. “you know i’m not actually gonna mop anything,” he says, voice low near your ear. you hum and reach to scrub a stubborn mark on the table. “i know. you’re more of a ‘make it someone else’s problem’ type.”

his hand slides down. fingers press under the hem of your shorts, grazing the curve of your ass. “i’m more of a ‘pin the girl to the table and fuck her til she begs’ type,” he mutters, “but yeah. that too.”

you bite your lip and arch your back a little, just enough to press your ass harder into his hand.“if you’re trying to be helpful,” you say, “you could start by wiping this down. i mean, you are already touching it.”

dean groans low in his throat and grabs a fistful of your ass, squeezing hard. you drop the rag, both palms flattening against the wood. he leans over your back,“you think sam’s gonna stay in the library long enough for me to fuck you right here?”

you don’t answer, just push your hips back. he slides a hand down your thigh, then up under the hem of your shorts. his fingers brush the edge of your damp panties and he groans again.“fuck, you’re soaked,” he mutters. “you’ve been dripping since we started, haven’t you?”

“maybe,” you breathe. “you gonna do something about it or keep talking?”

the sharp thud of a book dropping nearby makes you both freeze. you look up to see sam standing at the library entrance, eyebrows raised, cloth in hand, arms crossed. he looks between you, dean’s hand still halfway in your shorts, your hips pressed to the table.“seriously?” he says. “we can’t clean for twenty minutes without someone trying to get laid?”

dean doesn’t move his hand at all,“she’s the one walking around with her ass hanging out,” he says. sam sighs again, but he walks in slowly, his eyes trailing down your back, stopping where dean’s hand disappears under your waistband. “you want me to leave again,” he says, “or join in this time?”

you look over your shoulder, breath caught in your throat. “depends,” you say. “you planning to actually help me clean or just make more of a mess?” sam tosses the rag on the table and steps in closer. “i’ll clean later,” he says, “but only after you cum all on the floor.”

tags below ❤︎

@soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @bruisedfig @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume @bejeweledinterludes @k-slla @lunaleah @pieandflannel @liiiilsss @that-stanford-girlie @lanasgirlfr @angelicjackles @mostlymarvelgirl @nymphet-quenn @thesevnthseal

[mustyrosewater]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐊𝐘 - 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,068

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: returning to the small wyoming town you were raised after a sharp fall from grace, your music career having turned into mindless pop you were forced to churn out by your manager and now ex, a return to home is just what you need, the perfect place to take a break from the life of a pop star, and also to meet some old faces.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rhett is jealous again, tense eye contact, niki being a walking green flag, swearing and slight arguing.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the niki fangirls are gonna love this one, the niki haters maybe not so much, sorry not sorry. the reposts and comments are so greatly appreciated my loves, your feedback means the world and keeps me motivated! please enjoy chapter three!

Aside from the slight talking to from your father when he had come home about an hour later, with a soft reminder to just let him know next time, the night trailed off to be particularly uneventful after the video call with Amanda had ended.

The next morning, you’d hopped into the shower first thing, suddenly feeling all the more grateful for the list of shower supplies you had no doubt Amanda had gone to the trouble of ordering and sending out to you, as they’d been waiting for you ready to go in the shower caddy on the first day.

Soaps that smelled like honey and facial exfloiator had seemed to be exactly what was needed to make you feel recharged and invigorated, washing away the sour emotions of last night.

Reminding yourself of the meditation tracks your therapist had sent to your phone as you stepped back out of the shower, you took the extra time to blow dry your wet hair, putting it up into a claw clip before changing into a comfortable set of grey lounge wear.

Today was a day that was whole heartedly for you, you knew your father was out today, so the entire house was solely your own for a few sweet hours.

Having initially began the day with a coffee and a quick fifteen minute guided meditation out on the porch, just as was recommended, a womans soft breathy voice guiding you through breathing exercises and wellness techniques that you were only half paying attention to.

Your reflex was to grab your phone and post your regularly scheduled promotions for whatever sponsor you were set up with for the day, but here you were, no pressure to post anything, no schedule to follow.

In short, you felt like you had too much free time to do anything with.

Standing on the porch looking out into the driveway in the distance, you could only huff and walk back inside, looking for something that you could fill your day with.

There was only so much old coffee to wash off of the mugs on the sink, polishing them to perfection was enough to waste away a whopping seventeen minutes, you’re only other option to sit on the plush couch and flick on the tv on the wall.

Sitting cross legged, you flicked through a few channels, nothing but older sitcoms played out on the tv stations out this way, maybe a local ad here and there.

As you flicked once more to another channel, the sound of the halfway point of a song began, realising you’d flicked onto the MTV of all things, surprised they even aired it out this far.

Within seconds, you recognised the song to be one of your own, the music video playing along with it, the skintight outfit you were wearing glistening while you danced, two other backup dancers imitating the movements behind you.

You could remember filming this one so clearly, the green screen you’d been made to dance in front of a clear memory, now superimposing you against a backdrop of what you guessed was meant to be the top of a building.

Inbetween the shots of you dancing and singing, they were followed by snippets of you splayed out onto a silk sheet on a bed, the little black nightie they’d put you in leaving little to the imagination as you made bedroom eyes into the camera, just as you were directed to.

It was hard not to cringe, you didn’t even hate the song entirely, the lyrics were just empty against what could have been a half decent hook.

Words of desire towards nobody in particular, singing about how much you loved some imaginary person and how badly you needed them.

The next shot seemed to be you in some sort of leather leotard with gold details, walking through a crowd of people in just as odd outfits dancing along to the song you were lip syncing against.

Unable to watch anymore, you flicked over to the next channel not even caring much for what was on there anymore, even if it was just so that you could have some background noise.

The feeling of your phone vibrating next to you was a welcome distraction, even if it was just a notification from the weather app.

Oh. This was much better than the weather.

A text message, from an unknown number, that didn’t remain unknown for long as you actually opened the message, reading keenly as you found yourself sitting up straighter.

‘hey, its niki. i hope you dont mind, your dad gave me your number before he left last night.’

Even thought you ached to check whether or not he’d actually asked for your number, or if your dad had simply offered it, which did actually sound like something he’d do to be polite to one of your old highschool friends, you resisted, some part of you trying her hardest to remain composed and play it cool.

Is it weird if you respond back too quickly? Would he know you’ve done nothing all day except stare at your phone and cringe at old music videos.

Tapping the back of your phone against your hand impatiently, you allowed at least a minute or two before you even looked at the message again, feeling the slightest bit giddy.

Finally allowing yourself the privilege of typing back a message, you’re teeth sunk into your bottom lip just a little bit as your nails tapped lightly against the screen.

‘oh hey! that’s ok, we probably should have exchanged numbers anyway, considering, haha.’

Unable to help yourself, you screenshotted the message, along with your response, sending it straight to Amanda, already knowing that she would want to be the first of all people to know.

Watching the text you had sent her turn green, as well as the small ‘read’ icon coming up from the bottom almost immediately, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the facetime request all ready popped up onto your screen, the photo you took of Amanda when you were out to dinner spanning across the screen.

Opening the call with a soft hum sound, Amanda’s face came into view, a grin on her face rivalling that of the cheshire cat.

From what you could see, she was in her gym clothes, her hair in a low bun and a fresh sheen of sweat on her face as she walked to the locker room.

“What did i tell you.” she spoke as soon as she was alone in the locker room, shaking her head at you in the way she always did when she was proven right.

“Ok but like, this doesn’t mean anything solid yet.”

Your response only made her smirk more, her head turning as she opened up the locker containing her bag.

“Clearly he wants to give you something solid.”

Letting out a cackle, your head flying back slightly as you stood yourself, walking to the kitchen and placing the phone on the window sill so that you could make another coffee as you talked.

Before you could continue, you heard your phone vibrate, looking straight at the screen and squinting as you read the message that popped up.

Hearing the vibration through the face time call, Amanda’s wide eyed looked only made you grin more, putting a hand over your mouth to laugh as she placed her airpod in her ear to get ready to exit the gym.

“What’d he say!” she begged, waiting impatiently as you opened the message and read it silently. “I want you, baby, come round to my house so I can bend you over my kitchen table.” Amanda’s poor impression of some kind of latin accent and her comically deepened voice only made you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, thats not what it says.”

Finally reading the message, you couldn’t help but hop in place a tiny bit and let out a small little giggle.

“He’s asking if i’m gonna be at the rodeo on Wednesday, his dad and him are gonna be running his food truck there.”

As Amanda let out a sound of glee, she held a finger to signal to you to wait a second as she opened her car door and got inside, positioning the phone up on her dashboard as she gripped the steering wheel of the parked car.

“So, first of all, you’re going” she began, already taking charge as if she was planning every little detail out in her head to the upmost significance. “And second of all, you will be calling me the night of to pick a pair of jeans that makes your ass look irresistable.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled up a mocking salute, unable to say no to any of Amanda’s orders; To be completely fair, she knew better thank you about most of these things, having always been the one you came to for advice.

She felt untouchable to you sometimes, like she just had everything figured out, even if you knew in your heart of hearts it wasn’t true.

There had been more than enough times where she’d been vulnerable to you in the same way you had to her, the time’s she’d taken care of her niece when her sister had to go through some treatment at the hospital, the flowers you’d helped her pick out.

It was so often that she was looking after you, so coming around to her place to help her with some dinner and a helping hand with the fussy little seven year old girl had been something she’d barely even had to ask.

“Ok girl, i love you, but i have to get ready to head back home, i’m having Kaycey over again.”

Nodding understandably, you gave her a smile as picked up the phone, using your free hand to run your fingers across your scalp, a small yawn coming out of your mouth.

“Tell her i said hi.”

Kaycey was adorable, but full of stubbornness, the pair of you slowly worked out what made her tick, how she preferred to watch old Bratz movies you’d watched when you were younger, as opposed to Bluey. As the facetime finally ended, the small chirp from your phone signalling the disconnect, you finally spared a look out the window, noticing the beginnings of rain falling from a now darkened sky, the first time it’s rained since the first time you arrived back in Wyoming.

Leaning against the wall as you held your phone back up, you continued typing out your response to Niki, assuring him you wouldn’t miss it, that you’d come up and say hi, even requesting the promise of some free food as a lighthearted joke.

Putting your phone down on the counter, you allowed yourself a moment to step outside, the pittering of rain already starting to sound out against the tin patio roof;

Just as you’d used to do all the time as a child, you took a deep inhale into your lungs, the unplaceable smell of the rain making your mind come flooding with nostalgia.

You’d had no idea just how good the smell of Wyoming rain smelled until it had been so long since you’d even been around it, finding yourself at a weird sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced for a long while.

-

When the night before the rodeo finally came, there’d been a steady stream of messaging occurring with Niki, messages exchanged reminiscing over highschool memories, asking about how his mother was doing and him gushing about how happy she was about the photo.

Graduating from texting to snapchat should have definitely been the first sign, or at least Amanda thought it was.

Soon enough you were receiving stupid little selfies of him grinning while stood behind the bar, captioned with things such as ‘it’s so dead here, don’t how know many more glasses i can polish’.

It was hard to pretend like you weren’t kicking your legs like a little girl whenever you received one of his absolutely adorable selfies, sometimes at home, sometimes at work.

It was on the off chance that when he’d asked how you were doing, you had a photo of a towel on the door, mentioning needing to take a shower in a bit.

The following snap you’d received from him only about a minute or two later had you with your jaw slack.

A cheeky grin on his face, obviously aware of the nature of the photo, there he stood in all his glory, his arm reached above his head to rest his hand on the doorway above him, his shirt riding up just enough so that you could see the beginning of a line going along his pelvis, a sneaky little hint of olive skin poking out.

For a moment you felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, the way you had to put a hand over your mouth to hide the small laugh of disbelief at his sudden boldness.

The caption didn’t help by any means, only agreeing that he himself also had to shower, the mirror in the bathroom providing just enough of a shadow so that he was slightly less in view.

At first, it was hard not to feel at least a little bit of panic, debating what exactly you could send back, whether or not you wanted to match his energy, return the bone he had thrown your way.

Brief consultation with Amanda has proved more than helpful, advising that an innocent enough little selfie in your pajamas laying on the bed was more than enough of a response, while still hinting at something more.

By no means were you about to jump into sending a nude to your old science partner, but there was certainly some little kick out of being subtly flirty, you definitely missed the feeling of being desired, to be chased, it was invigorating.

It was in all honesty refreshing.

As you placed your phone back face down on the side table, there was a level on anticipation to be found, even if it was late; knowing you were gonna see him tomorrow and that you’d had a pair of jeans hanging on your door along with the stetson your father had just let you keep.

Everything coming together made it hard to sleep at all.

-

With your father’s agreeance to drop you off at the rodeo, even if he wasn’t attending himself this time, he’d seemed please you were taking the initiative to go somewhere by yourself, musing about how he’d been invited to a poker night with some friends anyway.

Assuring that he’d have his phone on the entire time if you needed anything, he’d waved goodbye to you from the window of his truck, a pleased smile on his face.

The task of actually weaving through the crowds was daunting at first, but slowly you became used to the feeling of turning your body from side to side as you progressed forward, allowing yourself to move in the same rhythm as everyone around you.

There was definitely so much to see that had changed since when you used to go to the rodeo as a kid, more games for the kids set up, so many more different food options available, it was a weird, but not unwelcome change in the slightest.

Watching a group of kids throwing darts at the balloons set up on the wall in front of them, it was hard not to smile, your arms crossing over your chest and watching one of the smallest ones lining up their shot, concentration clearly ethched on his chubby little face, before he threw, a pop sounding out as he cheered with his friends.

Well that was just a little bit adorable huh.

Pulling your purse tighter to your shoulder, you’d hoped your choice of outfit was plain enough so as to not stand out hugely, the denim flare’s on your legs paired with a slightly cropped tee, simple enough, you’d hoped.

The smell of all the fried food only became more tempting the closer you got, being reminded of one of the reasons you’d even come out to the rodeo by yourself in the first place.

You kept your eyes peeled, trying to remember Niki’s description of the food truck that he’d shared over text, as well as a rough idea of where it’d be parked.

It was the bright yellow that initially caught your eye, followed by the small line following to the window lit up by fluorescent white light, only to finally land on Niki, there, in all his glory, a short sleeved grey shirt and apron around his neck.

He seemed so swept up by orders, handing food out of the window and yelling out orders with each docket printing out seemingly at an unforgiving pace.

You recognised his father, along with one other stranger, likely just another cook that worked at the restaurant, grilling away, working at a pace that made you nervous on their behalf.

Smiling to yourself, you approached patiently, waiting for the line to go down until you eventually got to the front, the anticipation killing you each time you’d step forward.

Just as professional as always, you heard Niki yell out a quick “Just one second!” as he hadn’t turned his head to look at you yet, punching an order into an ipad with the concentration of a nuerosurgeon.

When he’d finally looked down at you, you’re smile greeting him, it was quickly reciprocated, his eyes widening as he leaned forward slightly out of the window.

“Hey you! You made it!” he started, turning to look at the dockets printed and hanging above the grill, seemingly checking to see how it was all travelling before he turned back to you.

“If you give me like, five minutes, ill come out and hang, just gotta wait for the rush to finish.”

He was so sweet about it, seeming apologetic as if you weren’t the one he was preparing to halt his work for. Nodding, you gave him a thumbs up, going to turn before you heard his voice once more.

“Pendeja!” he yelled with a laugh, shaking his head when you turned back around “what do you want?” he enquired, gesturing to the chalk board on the side of the truck “on the house.”

“Niki, no, i can’t-”

Your protest was interrupted by a wave of his hand.

“Shut up and tell me what you want.”

God his smile was so gorgeous, even when he was telling you to shut up.

Letting out a sigh as you tilted your head, it was hard to concentrate on anything written on the chalkboard next to his head.

“Just surprise me.”

Finding a spot to the side was easy enough, settling yourself down on one of the many tables that had been set up as a place to eat, you could only wait in silence, finding yourself unable to do much else aside from checking your phone occasionally, pretending to be interested in the time.

Just as promised, after about five or so minutes, you could Niki arriving from the distance, two plastic plates in his hands, apron now discarded you didn’t know where.

Your arm extended out to wave at him, smiling brightly as he came to sit across from you, sliding the plate of food in front of you.

Only now that he was across from you did you realise that he was also holding two glass bottles under his arm, grabbing them and setting them on the table between the two of you, a satisfied sigh leaving his throat as he gestured to what you now realised was a corona.

“For you.” he spoke, nodding to himself, seemingly not noticing the way your face fell only slightly, still trying your hardest to maintain a smile.

You had absolutely no clue how to actually explain everything, the reason you couldn’t touch anything even slightly alcoholing, on top of how you might explain it to him without making him feel petrified at having offered you a beer of all things.

Opening your mouth to speak, you could only let out a small sound, seemingly having no clue as to how you would phrase it.

Noticing the look on your face, his eyebrows rose, concern seeming to cross over his features as he looked down at the spread he’d brought for you.

It felt rude to decline the drink he’d brought for you, no doubt from the fridge of the food truck himself, even worse if he’d actually bought it for you.

“Everything ok? Is it the food? I didn’t make it if thats what you’re wondering.”

His attempt at brushing it off with humour made you feel better in all honestly, a soft exhale of laughter leaving your lips as you leaned forward and hung your head slightly.

Looking back up, you gave him an apologetic look.

“No, the food looks amazing, it’s just..” part of you felt petrified to even touch the bottle, images of you drunk in the street in heels and a sparkly outfit while paparazzi hounded you coming to mind.

Keeping your voice low, you kept it to a simple “I don’t drink.”

Niki’s eye’s widened, his arm immediately coming out to grip the bottle, pulling it to his end.

“Shit, im so sorry.”

The fact he felt bad for something he didn’t even realise killed you a little, yet he seemed to shift the mood back over pretty quickly, sending you that same grin he’d sported in the bathroom photo.

“More for me.”

As you sat and ate, your discussion seemed to range from an array of different topics, old school memories that you were able to laugh about all the way to him explaining all the different times he’d had to kick people out of the bar.

All good things must come to an end evidently, your stomach sinking a little bit as the topic of yourself was brought back into discussion.

“So how long do you think you’re gonna be back in town for?”

The question was obviously innocent, but it only made that ever present anxiety in the back of your mind grow ten fold. The long answer was that you had no idea, would you just hide out here till you had no career to come back to?

Live off of the royalties of your songs for the rest of your life? Not likely.

As much as you wanted to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist past this small town, you knew there was still record studio executives waiting on you, of course the timeline of your recovery was in your hands, the scandal could still keep your name in headlines for at least a little while longer.

But eventually you knew in your soul they were going to start pulling out when you started dropping off the charts, fading into obscurity.

In the god’s honest truth you hadn’t even thought about it that deeply yourself.

“Absolutely no clue.” you laughed out, holding your hands up and shrugging your shoulders; you didn’t want to go into the details with Niki, you didn’t really wanna burden anyone with the details really.

“I guess this could be a good place for some inspiration, maybe write some new music while im here.”

You didn’t even know yourself if that was true, the inspiration in you had been long sucked dry, when your team started bringing on ghost writers and producers, assuring you that the money was worth the creative integrity.

Deciding that this conversation was doing probably more harm than good to your inner dialogue, you rose from your seat, gathering up the plastic plates and swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“I think i’m gonna go watch the bull riding.”

It definitely was a little bit rude, but the food had been long finished and you knew that there was only so long Niki’s father was going to tolerate him being away from the truck for so long.

“And you.” pointing a finger at him as he stood, placing his hands in his pockets

“Need to get back and keep helping your father out.”

Holding his hands up in a surrendering manner, he only nodded in agreeance with you, the smirk on his face carrying just as much mischief as it always seemed to.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do what i’m told, but only this time.”

Niki returned the gesture of a finger pointed at you as he began to walk backwards, shaking his head as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you round, Pendeja.”

Watching him turn to jog back around the corner to where the food truck was, you could only let out a small huff.

There was definitely an inner turmoil at play within you, that was for certain.

Niki was such a sweetheart, and clearly there was a mutual attraction shared between the two of you, but the petrifying fear of intimacy within you, much less whatever it was exactly that eas starting to bubble between the two of you, seemed to be taking precedence each time a little bit of progress was made.

Even now as you continued your walk towards the bull riding stands, finding a place to sit inbetween all of the other people that lined up to see some cowboys get flung, you were unable to stop the slight frown from cementing itself on your face.

The idea that you could get in the way of yourself that badly was infuriating, but then the idea of jumping straight into another man’s arms so soon after such a messy breakup was just the same.

Hell, the wound was only about four months healed, you still occasionally saw your ex’s face coming up on old mutual friend’s social media, it was nowhere near enough time to just brush something like that aside, right?

When do you know when it’s because you actually want something like that, and not just yourself desperately seeking out the comfort of trading one man out for another?

As the event began, that same familiar rock music blaring out of the speakers just the same as last time, you occupied yourself with watching men getting flung off of thrashing bull’s backs.

Even then, it’s hard to be distracted by self pity when you’ve got something so absolutely entertaining in front of you.

The stupid rodeo clown was even enough to have a laugh leaving your throat.

As fun as it all was to watch, the universe decided that it was particularly enjoying fucking with you tonight, considering that you’d forgotten one big fundamental detail at the bull riding that was currently on.

That detail, that important little smidgen you’d conveniently forgotten?

Rhett Abbott was coming on next.

It was the first time you’d even heard his name since the restaurant, much less seen him in person, having been so distracted by the prospect of meeting up with Niki, you’d completely forgotten about his existence all together. You tried to force yourself not be invested, truly, wanted to continue the air of not caring if he lived or died, considering that was obviously how he felt about you.

Yet when the horn rang out and you immediately heard the sharp clanging of hooves on metal as the gate was swung open, for some reason you just could not look away.

The bull was relentless, seeming to thrash itself in a change of direction as much as possible, determined to get what i considered to be nothing but an annoying flea off of its rump.

As much as you cursed the ground he walked on, hated the way he looked at you with an air of superiority. God, as much as you hated him for starting the nickname tweety bird in highschool.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t doing a damn good job. You didn’t have to like him or even particularly enjoy his company to see that.

You could literally hear the cheers of the crowd growing wilder the longer he stayed on the bull for, that anticipation of waiting to see whether or not he’d get flung off before his eight seconds were up.

In some weird way, time seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet ultra fast all at the same time, with every millisecond that you didn’t hear the buzzer making your heart rate increase.

As soon as it rang out, like a choir of angels sent from heaven itself, you let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding, letting go of your purse handle which was now sporting little moon shaped indents from how hard you were gripping it.

The roar of the crowd around you was palpable, your silence pertaining more to your absolute shock, your mouth hanging open slightly.

As he finally allowed the bull to shake him off, being helped to his feet hastily by a handler as the rest worked at getting the bull back through the gate, you could see his chest rising and falling even from the distance you were at.

Adrenaline was a powerful thing, you knew that better than anybody, as you watched Rhett Abbott begin to bang on his chest like some sort of primal warrior, it was palpable.

His eye’s scanning the crowd hadn’t initially had you off guard, obviously he was enjoying the resounding response to his victory, continuing to bash his fist against his chest.

Even when his eyes landed on you.

As if set off, seeing you in the crowd, knowing you’d witnessed what just occurred, you weren’t sure if it was ego or something else entirely.

But you could have sworn he was smirking.

With a final bang to his chest, your vision might have been tricking you, but had he just nodded at you, a single, sturt nod before he’d turned to jog back to the gate, jumping it as if it was nothing.

You’re head tilted, eyes widening and brows furrowing.

Exactly what the fuck did he mean by that one?

Whether you were meant to be insulted by that, you had absolutely zero clue, the only thing you were certain of is that whatever it was, it was most certainly meant for you.

-

Left thoroughly confused by whatever it was that had just been shared between the two of you, you dispersed with the rest of the crowd when the rodeo was swiftly coming to an end.

Now noting the lights from games that were no longer on, as well as the now dwindling number of people around, the show grounds were suddenly seeming a lot quieter.

You were definitely tired, no doubt about that, hell, it was nearing almost midnight.

As much fun as it had been to go out by yourself for the first time in ages, the task you were now faced with of getting home was already proving itself to be a daunting one.

Exiting into the now nearly empty parking lot, you stood by the entrance and pulled out your phone, tapping the name ‘dad’ in your contact list and putting the phone to your ear.

Soft ringing was all that you could hear, feeling your heart drop a little bit as it continued, all the way up until his voice mail began to play.

Sucking in a sharp and nervous breath, you hung up and dialed his number again, waiting with a nervous breath, reassuring yourself that he’d probably just put his phone down somewhere and that any minute now he’d pick up.

Yet as his voicemail continued once more, you already felt a lump in your throat as panic began to set in.

Trying two more times evidently wasn’t a big help, doing absolutely nothing to remedy yourself.

Pacing back and fourth by the entrance was doing little for you, running your free hand along the seamline of your jeans not helping in the slightest as your heart beat hammered in your own head. As your own thoughts began to get to you more and more, you subsided in your attempts to call your father, nothing the fifteen percent battery life left on your phone, if he tried to call you back, a flat phone would do absolutely no good.

Yet as about ten more minutes passed, no buzzing from your phone, you were now cursing softly to yourself, feeling tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you rummaged around in your purse for some sort of miracle, anything to feel like you were doing something other than just standing there about to cry.

“What the hell are you still doin’ here?”

Initially, you jumped at the sound of a voice behind you, turning to see who it was however, only made you want to sink further and further into your little pity party.

“Fuck off, Rhett. I really don’t need this right now.”

Any attempt to hide the way your voice wobbled was futile, turning your head up to the sky to try and blink your tears out of existence as you let out a shaky exhale.

“Hey, fuck you. I was just checkin’ to see if you were okay. Christ, don’t worry about it.”

His response only made your lip wobble more, your head hanging as you heard him walk past you, the gravel crunching under his boots, growing softer as he walked towards his truck.

Desperation was a powerful thing, top it off with you on the verge of a panic attack wondering how the hell you’re going to get home that doesn’t involve walking and becoming coyote food.

“Rhett, i’m sorry.” you wobbled out, the sound seeming to stop the cowboy in his tracks, duffel bag hanging off his shoulder as he turned to watch you walk towards him.

“Please, I know you fuckin’ hate me and god knows I don’t know why. But I can’t get home, my dad was supposed to pick me up and he’s not answering me.”

Almost as if you could quite literally see him deliberating, he looked across at you, your puffy eyes and wobbling lip seeming to be enough to appeal to his better nature, whatever the beef seemingly shared between the two of you.

“Fuck sake..” he whispered to himself, letting out a huff as he unlocked his truck and opened the driver side door. “Get in.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you scurried around to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door and moving a few things off of the passenger seat before sitting down and closing the door.

Trying to compose yourself as he got in next to you and shut his own door, you could hardly even focus on how you were now sitting in the truck of a man you apparently hated.

“I can’t take you to your pa’s place.” he started, his tone already laced with annoyance at the predicament he had found himself in and somehow agreed to.

As he spoke, you waited him to finish, already not loving the idea of not being in your own bed tonight, but anything was better than being stranded out here at night.

“It’s the exact opposite of where I live and I’m fucking exhausted.”

You couldn’t blame him in that regard, you were just as tired if not more, feeling as if you could even fall asleep on these seats, as uncomfortable as they were.

“But, I have a pullout couch you can crash on, just don’t make too much fuckin’ noise and i’ll take you home in the morning, gotta head out that way anyway.”

Nodding, you were in no position to say otherwise, and you knew you were already on thin ice anyway, arguing against him could result in him rescinding his offer of transport all together.

“Ok.” you spoke, trying to calm yourself down and relax knowing you were gonna be safe for the night “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know i’m there i promise-”

As you spoke, he sent you what could only be described as a warning look, tired and exhausted eye’s telling you all that you needed to know.

“Starting now.” you finished, buckling you seat belt and keeping your gaze out the window as his truck pulled out of the parking lot.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @foreverchangingmind . @tsukikyo . @marsupialnoises . @iknowrocknroll . @astromilku .

[hansungie01]

Call Me Back? // h.j.s

Genre: Smut, Eventual Angst

Word Count: 5k

Contains: Fratboy!Jisung, Female reader, oral sex (female receiving and brief male receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, cum swallowing, use of recreational drugs, mentions of alcohol

A/N: So I’ve decided to make this into a short little series, so here is part 2!

Maybe: Jisung: Hey, it’s Jisung, from the other night.

You couldn’t respond. What were you even going to say? And how the hell did he even get your number?

“Oh hey, it’s great to hear from you! By the way, sorry for hooking up with you and then walking out in the morning with no explanation! My bad!”

No, you couldn’t. It was better to just ignore his message, and move on. It was only a hookup after all, and that’s how these things are supposed to go, right? You hookup, leave, and then you move on with your life.

And so, you shut your phone off and went back to what was really important - your studies. You opened up your laptop, pulling up your latest study guide from your desktop and reviewing your notes.

Until it dinged again.

Your head snapped in the direction of your phone, expecting to see Jisung’s phone number flash across the screen again. You felt your whole body relax once you saw that it was only your friend Brianna, the one who had persuaded you to go to the party in the first place.

Bri: Hey girl! Sorry I didn’t reach out to you sooner, I’ve been super busy lately :(

Bri: Anyways, I’m free today. Maybe we can hang out, catch up a bit! I haven’t seen you in a few days!

She was right, you hadn’t seen her in a few days. Since the night of the party, to be exact. It wouldn’t hurt to go out and see her for a little while, and then you could go back to studying afterwards.

Y/n: Hey! Sure, only for a few hours though, I have lots of studying to get done.

Bri: Of course you do. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop down the road from campus in about 20 minutes then?

Y/n: See you then!

———————————————–

By the time you finally got to the coffee shop, your friend had already arrived. She was easily recognizable; her dark red hair and bright sweaters always made her stand out from the rest.

She waved you over in her direction, pointing to the drink she had already bought for you. You grinned as you approached her table, seating yourself in the chair across from her.

“Hey! Thanks for the drink, I’m surprised you still remember what I like after all this time”, you joked as you reached over to grab the drink from her end of the table.

“Yeah, yeah”, she smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at you. “Anyways, how have you been?”

“I’m well. Studying as much as I can for our upcoming exams”, you replied. “How about you?

How’s the studying going”

“Good, good”, she nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s going good”

You squinted suspiciously at her change of tone. “You haven’t started, have you”

“Ok fine, I haven’t. But I’ll be fine, I’d much rather have fun during my college years”

Bri had always been the type to prioritize fun over studies. Even in highschool, she had always chosen a good party over preparing for exams. It always seemed to work for her too, since she somehow still managed to maintain decent grades, enough to get her into the same college as you.

You were never like that though. Since elementary school, you always had to work harder than the other kids in order to keep up academically. That meant skipping sleepovers, staying up late, and even prioritizing your grades over your mental health at times. It was exhausting, but at least it kept you from failing any classes.

“Speaking of that”, Bri spoke up again. “I didn’t see you at the party later that night, where’d you run off to? I tried to find you afterwards, but it was like you had disappeared”

The party, of course. It was at this party that you met Jisung for the first time, and would eventually end up in his bed the next morning. You knew telling her this would shock her, since you weren’t the type to partake in hook ups normally. But there was no way you could keep it a secret forever - she was your best friend, and you didn’t want to hide anything from her.

“Right, about that”, you looked to the side, holding onto your drink close to you for comfort. “I,uh”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear you continue. “Yes?”

Your voice grew quiet as you confessed what had happened. “I may have spent the night with someone-”

“You slept with someone??”, your friend suddenly shouted, earning a few weird looks from some of your peers in the tables around you.

You felt yourself shrinking in embarrassment, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, especially for something like this. Your friend seemed to notice this, and apologized instantly.

“Oh god, I’m sorry”, she said, bringing her voice down a few notches. “I just got excited! Y/n slept with someone! I mean, we’re in college, lots of people do, I just never expected you to do that kind of thing. You never came across as the type to do hookups, you know, since you study all the time and when you’re not studying, you’re working. And when you’re not working, you’re sleeping. And when you’re not sleeping, you’re watching Netflix..”

You tried not to take offence to her rambling. It was true, this sort of thing wasn’t something you’d typically partake in. In fact, this was your first hookup ever.

“Yeah, I guess I just got really drunk, and so was he, and then we bumped into each other, and well, yeah”, you felt awkward even explaining what happened, trying to find the words to explain it.

“Ooooh y/n!!”, Bri said, now swinging her free hand in excitement. “Did you get his name?”

“Mhm”, you hummed. “It was Jisung”

“Jisung??”, your friend stopped moving, eyes widening the moment she heard the name. “Like Han Jisung?”

“You know him?”

She nodded. “That was his party the other night. Him and his friends all live together and throw them like every weekend. Every time I go to one of them, Jisung is always stupid drunk and doing some dumb shit with his friends”

None of this new information was shocking to you - Jisung looked, acted and spoke exactly like a frat boy. Like the last kind of person you thought you’d be associating yourself with.

“I’m surprised he hooked up with you”, she added nonchalantly, taking another sip of her drink.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her statement. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that”, she waved her hands in front of her as if dismissing your concerns. “He’s usually the type to hook up with those preppy, snotty party girls. You know, the typical college brats. You’re not like that, so I’m just surprised”

“Well it’s not like he had very much time to get to know me, for all he knows, I could be”, you responded, crossing your arms in front of you rather defensively.

“True, but you don’t look like it”, she continued. “He probably saw your beauty from a mile away and thought ‘ah yes, that’s the one I’m fucking tonight’”

When you heard her drunk Jisung impersonation, you couldn’t help but burst out in laughter.

Your friend always had a knack for making people laugh with her impressions, they never failed to brighten the mood whenever needed.

You both took a few moments to calm down before continuing the conversation.

“Did you talk to him afterwards?”, she asked, still gasping for air after laughing so hard.

You shook your head. “No, but he texted me. I still don’t know how he got my number”

“He texted you?”, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Damn, must’ve been some good sex if he’s coming back for more”

It was good sex, or at least what you could remember. You hated to admit it though, that maybe he thought the same thing. But you shook off that feeling for now, not wanting to give yourself a false understanding of what he was thinking.

“Oh stop it. He’s probably just texting me to thank him for that night, that’s all”, you rolled your eyes. “Besides, he’s probably got plenty of girls he could be hooking up with instead”

“I don’t know, y/n. Maybe he wants more of you”, she winked playfully, emphasizing the last word. “I would be messaging him back, if it were me. That boy is fine as hell, I mean, have you seen his arms in those muscle t-shirts that he wears?”

“Ok yeah, sure he’s cute”, you confessed shyly. “But I don’t know how I feel about messing around with a frat boy. Just sounds like a recipe for disaster”

“Whatever you say, y/n”, she said. “If it were me, I would definitely be messing around with that”

———————————————–

For the next few days, you contemplated that text message. You thought about what your friend Bri had said, and how maybe, just maybe, he really did want to hook up again.

But was that really what you needed? You still knew next to nothing about this boy, and by texting him back, you might just be getting yourself into more trouble than you’d like. Not to mention, you still had finals, and the last thing you wanted to worry about was a boy.

But at the same time, maybe he was just planning on thanking you for that night. It was only a text, and if it were something important, he probably would’ve told you in the message.

Your mind was conflicted - you were torn between taking the chance and texting him back, or deleting his number completely and moving on with your life. But of all the things you were uncertain of, you knew one thing for sure: there was only one way to find out.

And so after much deliberation, you finally decided to text him back one quiet evening during one of your study sessions.

You picked up your phone, opening up his message for the first time.

[6:45pm] Y/n: Hey

You placed your phone back down on the table, taking a deep breath as you waited for a response.

Less than three minutes later, your phone dinged again.

[6:47pm] Jisung: Hi

[6:48pm] Jisung: What are you up to rn?

What are you up to? Oh nothing, just spent the last few days debating whether or not to respond to your message, that’s all.

You weren’t about to tell him that though, instead opting for a casual response.

[6:51pm] Y/n: Nothing at the moment, why?

[6:52pm] Jisung: Cool.

[6:52pm] Jisung: Can we meet?

And there it was. You bit your lip nervously as you read over the text message, trying to decide just what to say. Was this really a good idea?

But just as you told yourself before, there was only one way to find out.

[7:00pm] Y/n: When ?

[7:01pm] Jisung: Now works, I can bring you to my place.

Now? What was so urgent that he needed to talk to you now?

[7:07pm] Y/n: Alright

[7:08pm] Jisung: On my way!

[7:08pm] Jisung: **omw

Gotta love autocorrect.

———————————————–

20 minutes after sending him your address, Jisung texted you back to inform you that he arrived.

Sure enough, when you looked outside your window, there was a black car parked right in front of your place. You didn’t know why, but your heart was beating fast, anxious to talk to him again. A good anxious or a bad anxious, you didn’t know. But nonetheless, you opened the door to his car.

“Hey”, he nodded towards you. “Come in”

“Hey”, you responded as normal as you could manage, climbing inside and shutting the door beside you. He sounded casual, just as though you and him were nothing more than college friends.

Upon seating yourself in the car, however, your eyes caught sight of something that made you second guess what the hell you were doing.

Jisung, trying to suppress a smirk, but doing a horrible job. His mouth was only partially covered by his palm, his other hand gripping onto the steering wheel as he drove down the road. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jisung biting his lip, playing with his lip piercing.

Something was telling you that maybe, this wasn’t going to be an ordinary meet up.

———————————————–

As soon as you arrived to his place, you were met with the overpowering smell of alcohol and weed. The smell alone would’ve been tolerable, had you not also seen the mess of bottles and trash surrounding his place. Looking over, you caught sight of what you assumed to be the aftermath of one of Jisung’s parties - a box of domino’s pizza and an array of empty red solo cups left out on the coffee table next to the couch. He couldn’t have cleaned up a little bit before inviting you over? That wasn’t why you were here though. You were here because Jisung needed to talk to you.

“You want anything to drink? A blunt?”, he asked, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a thin white-looking stick along with a small lighter.

You shook your head abruptly. “No, no, I’m good. I don’t do that kind of stuff”

“Whatever you say”, he shrugged. Holding the blunt with one hand and lighting it with the other,

Jisung took a hit, exhaling the smoke without a single cough. He definitely wasn’t new to this.

“So..”, you said awkwardly, looking around the room and shifting in place.

Jisung stood in front of you, sticking his free hand inside of the pockets of his pants. It wasn’t until then that you really took in his appearance. He was wearing a grey hoodie and ripped skinny jeans, and his nails had been painted the colour black, unlike the night before. His hair was noticeably tangled, as if he had tried to style it with his hands alone, causing the strands to fall freely in front of his face.

“So”, he looked at you with a smirk. “Why’d you leave me so soon?”

“What?”, your head snapped back in his direction. You didn’t expect Jisung to get straight to the point like that. He chuckled, taking another hit before responding.

“Well, you left me in the morning. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you”, he paused for a moment before continuing. “Didn’t get a chance to tell you how much fun I had”

You pursed your lips, not really sure how to reply. Was it wrong to leave him that morning? You figured that’s what everyone did, you didn’t know people actually stayed the next morning and talked.

“It was just a one night stand, Jisung”, you spoke up after a few moments of silence. “There was nothing to talk about”

Jisung took one final hit of his blunt, tossing the bud onto the ground and crushing it with his shoe. He knelt his body down in front of you, looking directly into your eyes. You could really smell the weed coming from him now, stronger than any other smell in the room.

“Yeah? If it was only a one night stand”, Jisung tilted his head. “Then why are you here right now?”

You scoffed in annoyance. Truth was, you still weren’t really sure why you had come back after only a few days. Something was reeling you back in, but holding you back at the same time. He hadn’t even told you what he was calling you over for. And yet, you agreed - although you weren’t certain why, whether that was because your friend had convinced you, or that you were curious about what he wanted from you. All you knew was that Jisung was in front of you now, standing with the most smug expression you had ever seen.

“You’re the one who texted me in the first place”, you tried your best to sound as confident as possible, but by the way Jisung chuckled at your words, that seemed to be less than successful.

“And you agreed”, Jisung seemed to have read your exact thoughts, knowing exactly what you were thinking just by looking at you. He took his hand out of his pocket, gently placing his fingertips underneath your chin and lifting your face up so you would look directly at him. “So don’t try to act tough with me. You can admit that you had fun too, that you’d love to do it again”

You nearly laughed out loud at his cocky remark.

“Yeah you wish”, you spat. “Listen, if you just brought me over here so you could belittle me, then I’m going h-”

“Maybe I do”, Jisung interrupted, causing your jaw to snap shut. “Maybe that’s why I got your number, because I wanted to fuck that tight pussy of yours again.”

You felt the impact of his words go straight to your core. Jisung could tell too, because his gaze fell down to your thighs once he noticed you subconsciously squeezing your thighs together at his filthy confession.

“Oh I can tell you liked that”, Jisung mocked, looking back up at you. “Didn’t you, baby?”

“No, I didn’t”, you argued back, trying to hide the fact that Jisung’s words had turned you on instantly.

“No?”, Jisung tilted his head to the side again, his face drawn out in a fake pout. His fingers went to gently caress your lips as he watched you let out a shaky breath. “Wanna say that again for me?”

You huffed, accepting your defeat. As much as you hated to admit it, Jisung had you wrapped around his fingers within a matter of minutes.

“Okay”

“’Okay’ what?”, he raised his eyebrow at you.

You sighed before answering. “I liked it”

“Yeah I thought so”, Jisung glanced down at your lips as his thumb continued caressing your lower lip. “You don’t have to lie to me, baby. I want you just as bad as you want me”

You nodded, although you weren’t paying much attention to his words as you were to the lips that spoke them.

Before long, he leaned in, letting his lips connect with yours for the first time since the other night. You instantly relaxed into the kiss, bringing your hand to rest against Jisung’s cheek as you felt yourself falling entirely into his touch.

Jisung soon climbed over top of you, pushing you backwards onto the couch with his lips still pressed against yours. His body found its way in between your legs, in a position that was quite familiar to the both of you.

Jisung dragged his lips down all the way to your chest, and then along the centre of your stomach, making you shiver at his touch. His lips brushed against the sensitive areas of your tummy, before gliding down to rest at your thighs. He began leaving love bites on the flesh of your inner leg, eliciting a soft gasp from you that made Jisung hum against your skin.

Jisung then pulled his lips away for a moment to gaze up at you.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten a taste of you yet, have I?”, he said, rubbing your thigh gently as he spoke. You shook your head, not recalling a time where Jisung’s face had been between your thighs like this.

“I’m not sure, only one way to find out”, Jisung smirked once more and reached up to yank your shorts from your waist, tossing them over his shoulder.

“Fuck.”, he cursed at the sight of your core directly in front of him, already soaked from his teasing, and all for him. “You look fucking delicious”

He felt himself harden in his own pants, reminiscing on just how good your pussy had made him feel last time. With one last glance, Jisung brought his face down against your core.

The feeling of being inside of you had felt amazing, but this? This was a whole other level of enjoyment. Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut the moment he could taste you on his tongue, letting out a moan of pure enjoyment. Jisung, with his eyes still closed, proceeded to swirl his tongue and lips all around your core, lapping up your juices as if you were a meal he just couldn’t get enough of.

He pulled away then, just enough to be able to speak.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t get to taste you. There’s no way I would’ve forgotten this, you taste so fucking good”, he said, borderline moaning the last words.

You giggled at his words, quickly being cut off however by Jisung’s tongue reattaching itself to your core. You let out a loud moan, Jisung’s eager motions doing wonders on your body. It truly felt like heaven.

You looked down as Jisung quickly became desperate, practically making out with your still wet cunt and making the most obscene sounds. The feeling was indescribable, and Jisung’s passion was only adding to your pleasure. It was as though he was desperate to see you cum for him, this time sober and completely aware of what he was doing. He wanted all of you on his tongue.

In order to fulfill that desire as much as possible, Jisung quickly slipped two fingers inside of you, long enough to soak them up with your juices. Once he took them out, he slid his hand underneath your shirt and all the way up to cup your breasts. He pulled your bra to the side, enough for his fingers to make contact with your already hard and sensitive nipples.

Your breathing picked up once you felt his fingers rubbing wet circles around your nipple, and by instinct, you reached down to grip onto his hair. The stimulation added to the pleasure you were already feeling, and within a matter of minutes, you knew you were already close.

“Jisung, I’m gonna cum”, you moaned, warning him that if he didn’t move away, you’d be finishing all over his face. Instead of stopping however, he gripped tightly onto your thigh withone hand, holding your legs apart as he began sucking harshly on your clit while his other hand continued rubbing quick circles around your nipple. “Oh my god I’m so close”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me already?”, he groaned against your clit, the vibrations sending you further on edge. “Cum then”

Your body naturally jerked up into his face as you rode yourself into your high, and you swore you could see stars. Jisung didn’t attempt to stop you from moving while you came, and let you grind your cunt against his tongue while his hand kept a tight grip onto your breast, his way of bracing himself on anything his hands could grab while you fucked yourself on his face.

Jisung lifted himself up once you finally stopped moving, climbing up to kiss you on your lips and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Before long, he disconnected your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Now I remember…”, Jisung sighed while looking into your eyes.

Your lips drew out in a tired smile.“Wanna show me what else you remember?”

“Oh you’re naughty”, he smirked before bringing his head down to your neck, grinding his growing bulge against your wet core and drinking in the sounds of your whimpers. “Didn’t expect that from a pretty little thing like you”

At what was quite possibly the worst time, you heard his cellphone ringing. Jisung kept going however, ignoring the obnoxious ringing sound in his pocket.

“Jisung, I think you should get that”, you said, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to get him to stop.

“It’s just my roommate,” he replied. “They’ll end the call eventually”

But they didn’t. The ringing seemed to go on forever, until you both found it almost impossible to ignore. So with an annoyed huff, Jisung pulled himself off of you and reached in his pocket to answer whoever had called.

“Hey man”, he tried his best to sound normal, although his breathing was noticeably heavier than usual. “What’s up?”

Jisung was silent for a moment while the person on the other end talked.

“Nah, I can’t. I’m busy right now. Can you get anyone else to pick them up?”

Another pause.

“Busy with what?”, he looked over towards you, running his hands in his hair. “Just.. doing some house cleaning”

You rolled your eyes, of course he wouldn’t admit that he had a girl over, especially not right in front of you. You didn’t care too much about that though, you just wanted him to get off the phone so you could have him all to yourself again.

“No I’m being serious, I’m cleaning. Don’t laugh. Yeah yeah, I’ll get them later, okay? See ya man”, ending the call, Jisung tossed his phone to the side with a frustrated sigh, before climbing back on top of you.

“Fucking cockblock”, he said as his lips continued where he had left off. “Now, where were we?”

“Hm, you were about to do some house cleaning”, you sighed, moving your head to allow his lips more room.

“Yeah, you’re the ‘house cleaning’ I was talking about”, he mumbled, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he spoke.

You giggled. “Then shut up and do it”

Jisung smiled again as his hand began to travel up and down the side of your body, running his fingers along your skin.

“Don’t be mean, baby”

Jisung placed his free hand on your thigh, holding your leg apart as his hips began to grind harshly against your core. You squirmed, since that was all you could do with Jisung’s hand holding you down.

Taking his hand off of your thigh, he stripped himself of his clothing, tossing them to the ground beside him. He leaned forward again, grabbing onto his length and rubbing it against your entrance.

After some time, you finally had enough of his teasing. “Jisung, please”, you moaned, trying to grind your hips up against his cock.

“But I thought you didn’t like it?”, Jisung mocked you from earlier. You knew exactly what he wanted to hear, but you hated the fact that he was going to make you say it out loud.

“Jisungg”, you whined, causing Jisung to smirk at your neediness. “I already said I like it”

“Say it again”, he urged, still teasing your entrance with his cock.

“Fine”, you huffed. “I like it, Jisung”

Jisung thrusted his hips forward, just barely enough for the tip of his length to slip in. “Again for me”

“I like it, Jisung”, you replied immediately, quickly growing impatient. “I just need to feel your cock again, please”

“I know you do, baby”, Jisung cooed, pulling his hips back before thrusting them all the way forward. He let out a groan, the feeling of being inside of you for the first time in a while was almost too much for him to handle. He missed this, and he could tell that you had as well.

You rolled your head back in pleasure as his hips soon sped up. The stimulation was beginning to make your head feel fuzzy, as if you were melting beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re just so good”, he groaned as he fucked you deep, looking down at you to watch your face contort in pleasure. “You’re taking me so well, just like the last time”

You loved hearing his voice, the way it suddenly got so much deeper and raspier whenever he was fucking you. Hearing him say such filthy things to you in that voice only made you wetter, which made it easier for Jisung to fuck himself into you.

Cumming on Jisung’s tongue not long ago had your body feeling more sensitive than usual; you could already feel your orgasm approaching quickly every time you felt Jisung’s cock hitting your most sensitive spots.

You warned Jisung by reaching up to grip his arm, and he quickly got the message. Speeding up the pace of his hips, Jisung wrapped his right hand around your hip while his free hand gripped tightly onto the bedsheets below him.

“Cum me for baby, I know you’re close”, he breathed, the words just barely intelligible from how fast he was moving. “Show me how much you missed this”

With one final moan of his name, your walls tightened around his cock as your orgasm washed over you. You held your grip on Jisung’s bicep as your head dropped back against the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, you chanted while Jisung moved his free hand from you hip to your thighs, riding you through your orgasm while your legs shook uncontrollably in his embrace. “Fuck Jisung, I can’t”

Jisung continued fucking you, now chasing his own release.

Once your head stopped feeling dizzy and you found the strength to move, you lifted your head up to look at Jisung, just in time to see him pulling his cock out of you so he could cum on your stomach instead this time.

But you had another idea, and so you quickly scooted your body down so that his cock was directly in front of your face, his knees on either side of your shoulders.

“What are y-”, Jisung eyes widened once you wrapped your lips around his cock, finally realizing what you were doing.

“Fuckk y/n..”, he groaned with his hand still stroking his cock. Immediately after, Jisung threw his head back as he came inside of your mouth, letting his release shoot down your throat and on your tongue.

Jisung hadn’t planned on making you swallow his cum - and he definitely hadn’t expected you to do it at your own will. But he had to admit that watching you lazily sucking on his tip and moaning in pleasure while you took all of his cum, was so fucking dirty to him. Just how he liked it.

You looked up at him as you took his cock out of your mouth, licking one last time across his slit to make sure you had gotten every last drop.

“Fucking hell”, he breathed out, looking down at you. “You’re so good”

———————————————–

It wasn’t until you shut the door to your apartment that it hit you: you’d just fucked Jisung for the second time. In the heat of the moment, you’d done something you’d initially told yourself you’d never do again.

You still knew nothing about this boy, except for the fact that he was the definition of a college fuck boy. Maybe you’d regret doing this, maybe even end up crying. But you couldn’t deny,

Jisung was a good fuck.

And maybe that’s what you needed, someone to help relieve your stress every once and a while.

Maybe that’s why even after questioning what the fuck you were doing, you still agreed to see him again, still responded to his text message the next day when he told you he had a good time.

There was no harm in that, right? People do this all the time, it’s nothing new.

As long as neither of you caught feelings for one another, everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

[urlocaldesertdweller]

(Ant) Tenna x Co-host!Reader

Headcannons (Containing Fluff and Suggestive!)

A Duo is better than a Solo, they say!

It’s Mr Ant Tenna’s TV Time, alongside his most and only favored Co-host, You!

Although you dont really share the introduction sequence, you definitely share the stage with Tenna.

Tenna introduced you with a loud cheer of your name “OH…Y/n!” and you’d burst out from the curtains with a strut and a bow. You wear a similar outfit including the bold color scheme or red and yellow/gold. (You match like a couple) The crowd loves you just as much as the charming Ant Tenna himself.

From the height difference to the personalities of the two of you made the duality of your host jobs just as fun as the games themselves! Boy did the crowd love it.

It’d be hard NOT to give in to it, especially when it dragged in more audience. More profit!

Professionalism is always assumed between two co-workers let alone two hosts. It wouldnt be until later on by episodes through odd actions between the two of you made audience question and stew up potential rumors of you and Tenna having a secret relationship! Oh the spice of it all!

From Tenna telling you: “Please Y/n! Enough with the formalities! Just call me Tenna.” Still on public screening…

The playful banter between the two of you would go on and on until it was comical and the crowd would cheer to continue on.

And dont get me started on the piles of names you’d call eachother. Darling, Baby, Honey, Sweetheart, Sweetie, Love, Dreamboat…

Although the names were said in quick fashions before moving on to a very continently distracting game with the contestants, some people caught on.

Even at the end or start of the shows Tenna would give you smalls gifts. Although they seemed to be normal things like pens, 1# Co-Host mugs, T-shirts, and coffee with color on his screen cheeks.

You and Tenna would often look at reviews of your shared show for any critiques and comments to work on, only to see the many upon many rumors posted about the not-so-secret relationship between the well known host Ant Tenna and his co-host.

As the show goes on, more and more people mention it. From people in the crowd to even the contestants making quick quips with smirks winks and all, interrupting the program. And sparking whistles and cheers spark in the room.

Despite both of you being used to being put on the spot. Either of you would flush with embarrassment while the other would stutter to explain.

(Tenna would usually be the silent one before going into his stutter spasm like how he encounter Spamton) While you’d mostly speak for him as the show suddenly cut to a commercial break.

You both shared his office for breaks, after work, before work…and honestly anytime you both aren’t working on stage. Which was another rumor coming from an actual worker. it was true with literal proof. The proof being a frantically taken picture of both you and Tenna rushing into his office.

Although it was true, you both still denied it to the ground.

It was becoming tense between you and Tenna, hiding in his office, you and him are both disheveled from running away from the press. Every-time you share a look it ends with a quick looking away into a corner.

You weren’t sure if this romantic rodeo could go any longer. You know that Tenna had been expressing his feeling through his small actions, but despite his large personality…

You would be the one to push for it.

…

…

…

Damn it all.

You strut towards the sweating Tenna like how you strut across the stage everyday as muffled press can be heard. Its time to make this thing become reality.

Tenna doesn’t notice you walking over as he tries to fix his antenna which seems to have gotten bent.

He notices and questions when you grab his hand and lead him to sit on his desk giving you more to work with. The iconic shiny red coat of his tightens with every deep breath of his.

You step between his long legs.

He watched you from above, slowly connecting the dots in his head. He jumps when you grab hold of his tie and give it a good tug…

He yells some of his comical words, force of habit from being on show half of his life. As he cranes his head down even lower to meet your face. He smiles even cracking a joke about how crazy it’d be if the press walked in on the two of you…

You confirm with Tenna that you dont care anymore with the rumors, assumptions, teasing, everything.

As you place a comforting hand on his thigh, you go on your toes to reach his lips in for a kiss.

“Oh mama..”

Its short, you feel a fuzziness on your lips. You want more.

He adjusts on the desk and places a hand on your neck and chin. He wants more to, you can see it with the dopey smile on his screen.

“Oh my co-host. You love me.”

You push for a deeper kiss and you catch him off guard with a muffled noise that soon turns into a noise of pleasure and satisfaction.

You feel his gloved hands move lower and lover to lift you onto his thighs for better angle. The kiss deepens, a hand of yours naturally snakes to push his coat off and he groans.

Besides listening to Tenna shift and grow more desperate you hear knocking and occasional talking of multiple people.

The press, in a way, you want them to walk in and see the Tenna make out with his co-host.

You get desperate, you want to ruin Tenna. You push into into the desk making with a yelp of surprise makes any loose paperwork slide off. The crowd behind the door grows more impatient, banging occurs.

God Tenna looks so hot beneath you. He looks at the door then at you clearly nervous. You calm him down, actually you only made him more turned on with what you did.

You push your body against his, a hand grips his antenna firmly making his body arch into your with drawn out moan, the other hand undos his tie. All this as you shove your tongue into his mouth.

He whines, trying very hard to not bite into your tongue with his fangs.

A leg of yours slips from his pants and falls into his crotch making his writhe in your arms and moan graciously.

The door slams open and people take in a second to realize what they bursted in for.

They watch their favorite Co-host grip Tenna’s antennas as he disheveled and dry humps co-hosts knee.

Most take pictures and then quickly leave. The show is going to be more popular than ever.

Duos are better than solos!

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Language barrier

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings: smoking, cussing

Chapter 4: Slow day

-------------------------------------------------

The sky was positively gloomy that day. Not quite dark enough for some people to predict that it might rain, but just enough for any gloomy teenagers to take rather unnecessary photos and show it to their social media.

Stone stood outside G.U.N., the building still casting a long shadow despite the clear, sunless weather. From where he was standing, the building loomed over him like some impending doom, either silently observing him from a distance or up close. A death warning, Stone liked to think it that way.

People exited and entered through the main entrance, chatting their meaningless lives away about their pets and romantic partners. Some stood at the side of the entrance for a while longer, relishing in their conversations before being pulled away to perform their duties. Stone spotted a few of his colleagues, even some old friends from back in the academy. They didn’t try to acknowledge the fact that he was there, not even sparing a single glance at him. Stone felt relieved and grateful about that.

The days seemed longer when he worked with the doctor. The constant excitement, the continuous incoming experiments, Stone was always next to Robotnik. Today was exceptionally slow, however. No new projects, no reports from the commander and the doctor had been avoiding him ever since the hour he came in. Stone understands that a genius like Robotnik would need to keep his mind constantly running no matter what, just like every other genius man that had ever lived, fictional or not. Though, Stone would be lying if he didn’t feel disappointed from not getting even a small shred of attention from Robotnik.

Stone sighed heavily, tilting his head back to let it hit the wall he was leaning against. His hand itched to grab the cigarettes in his pocket. He had tried to give up that habit, knowing it would only serve to ruin him further. If the bullet wounds and gashes across his body was any proof of it.

Fuck it, whatever.   

His resolution dissolved as his hand flew to his pocket, quickly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a lighter he kept in his right breast pocket. The nicotine filled his lungs, burned the back of his throat and clouded his mind with false calmness.

Back then, Stone never intended to pick up smoking in the first place. The only reason he hadn’t completely given up the habit yet was the memories that kept flooding back to him every night he went to bed.

Maybe smoking was a safer alternative than taking his pent-up anger on actual people, lest he gets a restraining order or end up killing someone he cared about.

Stone closed his eyes and relished in the way the smoke curled around him, coming in and out of his nostrils. The world around him faded into muffled white noise, only serving to keep part of his mind in reality while the rest drifted off to some unknown world.

“Đừng có hút thuốc, thằng ngu. Mày mà sắp chết thì tao giết mày trước.”  A voice called out to Stone, undoubtedly the doctor’s.

Stone cracked open one eye and then the other to see Robotnik standing beside him, one hand in his pocket while the other held a to-go cup of presumably coffee. The doctor looked calmer if no less irritated than all the other days. It almost surprising to see the doctor not in his lab during this time of the day. It was reaching noon, just an hour away from lunch and conveniently when Stone gets his break.

The doctor, to say the least, was more dressed down than Stone had ever seen him. The long trench coat that Robotnik usually wore during the even days of the week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) were presumably left at the lab. His tie was crooked to one side; one ungloved hand shoved into the pocket of his pants. His shades were also gone, leaving tired and irritated eyes to bore into Stone’s ‘big doe eyes’, as Robotnik called them. Other than those small details, nothing was out of place, all in their perfect glory.

Before Stone could turn and answer Robotnik, the cigarette was pulled from his lips and tossed over one shoulder. All that the agent could do was stare dumbly after the swift movement, seeing his cigarette being thrown like that gave him mixed feelings. If it was anyone else, Stone would’ve lashed out at them, maybe even strangle them if he was having a particularly bad day. But this was the doctor doing it, staring at him neutrally without breaking eye contact as if to get some kind of reaction from him. The agent’s eyes followed the ungloved hand that threw away his cigarette, watching it retreat back into the pocket of Robotnik’s pants like a scared animal.

Stone didn’t react verbally, but his expression was enough for the doctor. Mouth slightly agape from where the cigarette was previously held between his lips, eyes still dumbly looking off to the distance where his cigarette was tossed. His right hand hovered by his side, unsure of what to do with itself now that the nicotine stick he had been sucking on was gone.

“Tao không có thích cái mùi của hút thuốc.” Robotnik said gruffly. “Tao mà bắt mày hút nữa là tao đuổi việc mày luôn.” The words slipped out so quickly that Stone was unsure if he even heard what the doctor had said. At the end of the sentence, however, it sounded like the doctor slurred on his words on purpose.

“Doctor, I can’t understand that.” Stone stated nervously and hesitantly, his right hand now rubbing the side of his neck instead of hovering there by his side. Although he managed to catch some of it, his scrambled brain was a bit slow today.

Robotnik gave him a glance and huffed, leaning back against the same wall as Stone, eye contact now slowly becoming a foreign concept to him as the doctor’s eyes drifted away from his own. Stone kept staring after him, now returning to picking out all the details that were usually considered unusual for the doctor.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes.” Robotnik eventually translated, eyes now focused on the cooled coffee within his cup. “And I better not catch you smoking again.” He sounded awfully calm, which stirred up something in Stone’s chest.

“Of course, Doctor.” The agent replied with a smile, still waiting for the doctor to look at him again.

Why was he even waiting? It was already starting to feel weird just looking at the doctor. He should’ve just looked away. Staring at your boss and waiting for some kind of physical response is highly creepy and weird.

When Stone finally looked away, feeling his face warm up a little out of embarrassment, Stone swore he saw a slight turn of Robotnik’s head as if the doctor was just waiting for Stone to stop looking at him so he could.

The thought made him smile unpromptly, head slightly tilted up to smile up at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Robotnik still stared at him like he was a test experiment not yet giving a firm conclusion.

“You don’t have to pretend, Doctor.” Stone spoke softly into their silence, eyes averting their attention from the cloudy sky to look at the man he adored.

The slight flush came quicker than Stone expected, witnessing the reddening of the doctor’s ears wasn’t something he expected. Robotnik immediately turned away to look in a different direction, the to-go cup already gone from when Stone wasn’t paying attention and shoving both hands into his pocket.

“Shut up.” Robotnik’s voice sounded soft, not anywhere close to the threatening tone he would use whenever someone shamed him for something.

Stone just smiled and nodded, averting his attention completely to avoid making the doctor feel more shameful. Which, in all honesty, the agent didn’t even know his doctor could feel shame.

Wait, no. The doctor, not his doctor.

Stone shook his head mentally to get rid of the fact that the doctor was ever his in the first place. Sure, he was the doctor’s personal assistant, always at his heels to comply to any and every order given by the genius, but that doesn’t mean the doctor considered him an equal. Maybe he never would.

Sighing, Stone closed his eyes and relished in the fact that Robotnik was here, close to him and sharing this moment with him as well.

Several thoughts flooded his brain, mainly pointing out the obvious situation and making mental notes to tell Robotnik about any other business they need to handle later on into the day.

One thought did surface and sounded louder than the others, however. A smile tugged on his lips, threatening to grow into a stupid grin if he didn’t stop himself.

“Läkaren är min lika mycket som jag är hans.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ooooh, can you guess which different language dialogue is my mother tongue language?

Translation (in order):

Vietnamese:

Đừng có hút thuốc, thằng ngu. Mày mà sắp chết thì tao giết mày trước : Don't smoke, idiot. If you're dying, then I'll kill you first

Tao không có thích cái mùi của hút thuốc: I don't like the smell of cigarettes

Tao mà bắt mày hút nữa là tao đuổi việc mày luôn: If I catch you smoking again, I'll fire you

Läkaren är min lika mycket som jag är hans: The doctor is mine as much as I am his

[lemonpeppermintstickshift]

white lie - f. langdon x fem!reader

summary: you and frank have always been on opposing sides, but one day when a patient becomes too handsy with you, frank lets out a little white lie to save you.

warnings: SMUT (minors dni, 18+ only), not very explicit smut but smut nonetheless, plot with a sprinkle of porn towards the end (still, minors fuck off), patient grabs your arm, cursing, stereotypical pitt gore, no use of y/n, asshole idiots in love, frank has no kids, angst if you squint?, bad medical terminology/logic but let's be real you're not here for that.

author's note: i lied she's here early! this took seven years off of my life but i hope you enjoy :,) my attempt at something with a bit more plot

wc: 6k

The Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center was known to be many things. A teaching facility, a life saving establishment, and an incredibly fucking noisy place. 

It wasn’t unusual to have patients screaming bloody murder, to have the constant beep of machines and dilators ring in your ears, to overhear a pure teaching moment between an attending and a resident. 

However, a unique factor that all doctors in the Pitt could count on contributing to the decibel level were the arguments between you and one Frank Langdon. It was normal, expected even, for the two of you to be at each other's throats. It seemed like you were always disagreeing on something—a diagnosis, bedside table manners, even down to what kind of coffee should be kept in the staff lounge.

(“We’re not getting dunkin donuts coffee,” you scoff.

“Why the hell not?” Langdon shoots back.

“You two have to be fucking joking.”)

On this particular shift, Frank and you stand on opposite sides of a patient bed, throwing harsh glances like they’re daggers. The middle aged woman below you is bleeding profusely in her throat due to a neglected respiratory tract infection, causing multiple issues with her oxygen levels. She’s practically drowning in her own blood. Your first instinct was to do an intubation, but before you could even begin to ask for the tube, Frank immediately shut you down.

“There’s too much blood, we wouldn’t be able to see anything through the camera. Have you ever done an intubation blind?” He interrogates, his gaze cold and sterile. “I’m vetoing it. We’ll have to do a cricothyrotomy instead.”

“I can do it,” you argue back. “A cricothyrotomy is a last resort, you haven’t even tried intubation yet—”

“We don’t have time to play it safe, last resort or not we should be doing the cricothyrotomy.”

You feel the familiar, fire hot frustration bubble in your chest. It isn’t unusual for Frank to fight against you, and it isn’t unusual for you to want to kill him for it.

The two of you go back and forth like this until Robby approaches the room, finally free from his GSW in Trauma 1. His aging face drops as soon as he realizes the scene before him. Annoyance slowly creeps into his expression, sinking into the lines by his eyes as his mouth presses into a thin line, gritting his teeth before speaking. 

“That’s enough.” His voice booms out, causing the both of you to pause mid argument. “You two are wasting time. Make a concise decision. Dr. Langdon?”

“Intubation is too risky.” Frank begins, trying to appeal to his mentor and somewhat friend. “A cricothyrotomy may be a little bold but at least it’ll work.” 

“And you?” Robby turns to face you. “You believe you can perform the intubation?”

“I know I can, Dr. Robby.”

You see Robby consider both ideas for a brief second, tossing them around and considering the weight of his decision. It’s not just choosing a life saving operation, but choosing a favorite. He—and all the student doctors and nurses for that matter—know whoever loses this war will be enraged, silently fuming for the rest of their shift.

“Get the tube. We’re performing this intubation.”

As soon as the words hit your ears, your stomach somersaults. You try to control the muscles in your face as your lips twitch into a smile. There’s a voice in the back of your head that wants to jump up and down and point to Langdon, screaming I won, I won, I won! You know it's unprofessional, but it's rare when you get to win against him, especially when it comes to Robby. 

You can feel Langdon’s anger radiating off of him as he moves out of the way, watching you and Robby prepare for the procedure. You try your best to hide your joy, but you’re sure you fail.

//

After a successful intubation with the help of Robby, you find yourself aimlessly wandering back towards the ED’s TV screen, bumping into Whitaker. The two of you make small talk as your eyes scan for something interesting to busy your hands with. Whitaker reads out a few promising symptoms, but his words fall away into nothing as you scan the room, your eyes landing on Langdon as he walks out of the staff lounge. 

He stares back at you, something dark swirling in the ocean blue of his irises. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. You know he’s fuming, probably imagining all the ways he wishes you would die a slow and painful death so that you’d never interfere with him again. You’ve been on the losing end of this battle before, and you remember just how much you wanted to strangle him when Robby chose his side.

Your stomach flutters slightly as you narrow your eyes, rolling them and trying to focus back on Whitaker. You don’t care if Frank sees. You mutter something along the lines of approval when Whitaker finally chooses your next case, not quite mentally there as you still feel the heat of Frank’s gaze.

It wasn’t always like this between you and Langdon. In the very beginning, you remember bits of indifference, some semblance of mutual respect. You don’t remember what changed exactly, but one day you two went from innocent coworkers to enemies. 

After the change, you remember him being snippy with you, always avoiding taking you on a case, begrudgingly teaching things to you and fighting you on every diagnosis you made. You just weren’t sure why. 

You didn’t bother to search for an answer. You decided you would simply return the energy that was given to you. If Frank wanted to be a dick, you had no problem meeting him halfway. 

You give him no more thought as you trail behind Whitaker. 

//

Hours later, somewhere around 3 PM, you feel a wave of drowsiness begin to hit you. Despite all your best efforts to go to bed on time, to drink caffeine in the morning and maintain unwavering energy levels, you always seem to struggle in the early afternoon. You know if you slow down, you’ll never pick back up again, so you down the rest of your energy drink and flip through the list of patients waiting to be seen. 

Your eyes land on the chart of an older gentleman: Isaiah Vander, 52, complained of lower abdomen pain. 

Based on past experience, you know abdomen pain has the ability to go south very quickly. You decide to charge forth, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst as you lead him back to an open bed. 

“Please, have a seat Mr. Vander,” you smile. Gloria’s been on everyone's ass about bedside hospitality, so you try to attempt to be a bit brighter than usual.

Mr. Vander, a balding and slightly overweight man plops down in front of you. He’s dressed in jeans, wearing some sort of athletic t-shirt with a pair of cheap sunglasses resting on his head. He returns your smile with a large toothy grin, showing off his coffee stained teeth. 

After a short but concise introduction, you begin your assessment. “So, when did the pain in your abdomen start?”

“Last night, a little after dinner.”

“And what did you eat?” You ask casually. 

“So curious!” He laughs in response. “I had two big macs, a large mountain dew and some french fries, I think. I work late a lot, so I had to grab something quick last night. Do you cook?”

You smile politely. “When I can. Now, do you take any medication?” Your mind prepares to cross off a few different diagnoses depending on his answer.

“Would love to have you cook for me sometime.” He responds, ignoring your question. His boisterous laugh rings out into the hall. His warm breath that smells of cigarettes fans your face. Gross. 

You frown, trying not to assume the worst. You know sometimes patients get a little chatty when they’re comfortable, so you try and steer the conversation back to his condition.

“My cooking may give you worse abdomen pain if you can believe it. And, sorry, just to confirm, no medicine?”

“Only viagra.” He smirks. 

Your breakfast bubbles in your gut. You’re taken aback. You forgot what the shock of a situation like this feels like. You recover quickly though, ignoring his comments by giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Is the pain more throbbing, or like a pricking sensation? And any nausea, vomiting?”

“Throbbing, definitely throbbing. Ever since the wife left me I’ve been eating alone a lot, hence the junk food. So maybe that's where the throbbing pain comes from. Maybe it wouldn’t happen if I ate with someone else. If you get what I mean.” He licks his lips lustfully.

You clear your throat, trying your best not to lose your shit. You’ve dealt with flirty patients before, but he seems… grimey. Clearly this guy isn’t dying of a ruptured intestine, he’s just some asshole with a tummy ache. 

“So, again. Nausea? Vomiting?” There's an edge to your voice as you grit out the question through your teeth. Despite your annoyance, you continue to interrogate him—there’s a part of you that’s fearful that if you left now, he would end up dying of a cause you could have prevented—growing more frustrated as the minutes pass. 

Trying to converse with him feels like torture. The conversation is painstaking slow, and for every question you ask, Mr. Vander responds in a suggestive manner, talking about his lonely late nights while simultaneously giving you no information that could help you treat him. 

It comes to a boiling point when you ask him when his last bowel movement was. He laughs and ignores you, stating that it's ‘no business for a lovely lady such as yourself.’ It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. You mentally decide you’ll probably have to hand this case over to someone else. 

“Well,” you start, beginning to stand up. “Thank you for answering some of my questions, another doctor’ll be in shortly to—”

“You’re not staying sweetie?” 

You choke a sarcastic laugh. “It's Doctor. And no, I have another patient I need to check up on.” Not that its any of your fucking business. “Like I said, someone will be in soon to—”

Before you can finish your statement, you feel his calloused hand wrap around your forearm. It’s warm and sticky, and your eyes widen at the contact before you jerk yourself back. You’re about to yell at the man before you when out of nowhere the half shut curtain opens, revealing Langdon.

His heavy footsteps echo on the linoleum floors. His chest is puffed out, his muscular arms crossed over one another as he clenches his jaw. He looks angry. You can only assume it's because of you.  

“Dr. Langdon—” You choke out. You weren’t sure where he was supposed to be, but you’re pretty sure it's not here with you. You want to explain that this isn’t what it looks like. You have everything under control. You would hate for Langdon to hold this against you, to see you weak. 

“And who do we have here?” He says, taking a look at the chart beside you. “Hello Mr. Vander, sorry to hear about your stomach pain. I’m here to help, I’ll be taking over this case.”

You feel your face become hot. Suddenly, you’re worried Langdon thinks you're incapable of handling this. 

“Excuse me, but why can’t she stay?” Mr. Vander responds, motioning towards you. 

Frank replies without missing a beat. “She’s a very coveted doctor. Her presence was requested by an attending, so she’ll need to assist them instead.”

You hear Mr. Vander suck his teeth, sitting up slightly. “C’mon man, I was just starting to get somewhere. Can you leave? Can’t she just finish me up?”

You wince. You can't explain it, but a feeling of dread runs through your veins at the thought of this guy flirting with you in front of Langdon. 

“No, I won’t leave.”

You watch as Mr. Vander rolls his eyes and averts his attention to you. “Well, since you’re leaving, I’ll get to the point. You should get dinner with me.”

“Wow—um.” You choke. “That’s entirely unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional,” Frank starts with a smile, “And I’m pretty sure her boyfriend wouldn’t like that very much.”

“Boyfriend?” You and Mr. Vander question at the same time. Your eyes are wide with confusion. The last time you checked, you were single. 

“Boyfriend, you have a boyfriend?” He sputters.

You’re positive you don't, but the way Langdon is looking at you makes you feel otherwise. Before you can gather your thoughts to respond, Frank is sliding his hands onto your waist, giving them a squeeze. 

“Yep, she does. And as I said, I wouldn’t be very pleased if you took my girl out on a date.”

It’s so quiet in the room you can hear the conversation in the hall outside. Your mind feels a million miles behind. Mr. Vander is so focused on Langdon that he misses the way your jaw drops. 

“I’m sorry man, didn’t realize she was taken.” He apologizes, looking like a child who was just scolded for staying up too late. Shame blooms in his chest, while something much more sinister grows in yours.

Frank takes a seat beside him, motioning for him to lift his shirt. “No worries. Do you mind if I take a look at your abdomen to assess the area?”

As Langdon begins to work on Mr. Vander, the voice in your head is screaming at you to leave, to take the out that Frank has so clearly given you, but you can't bring yourself to stop staring at him.  You watch as he begins to pat his hand on Mr. Vander’s belly, pressing particularly forcefully, watching as the patient groans in pain.

“Whoops.”

He turns back to look at you. “Dr. Robby wants you.”

You try and decipher the look on his face, but gone is the charming Frank Langdon, and only his colder alter ego remains. 

You nod wordlessly, leaving the room. You don't allow yourself to catch your breath until you round the corner. It feels as though the world around you is blurred, blood rushing to your ears and face as embarrassment and something else creeps up your neck. 

Langdon has never touched you before, let alone put his hands on your waist, squeezing them. 

Many inappropriate things cross your mind. You force yourself to shake it off, looking for Robby. When you find him minutes later, he’s deep in conversation with Collins. You hate to interrupt, but you thought he needed you.

“Did you ask for me?” You say as you approach the pair.

“Me? No, why? Did something happen?” He asks with concern.

“No… Langdon said—Nevermind. Must’ve been a mistake.”

You smile weakly before walking away awkwardly, beelining for the nearest bathroom. You shut yourself inside the single stall, locking the door behind you before you begin to pace around the room, the soft sound of your sneakers scuffing the tile echoing off the walls. 

You’re mainly confused. Why was Langdon lying to save your ass? Did he think you couldn’t handle the patient? How did he manage to step in at the perfect time?

Why did his touch make your brain short circuit?

You brace yourself on the sink. You feel pathetic, and you’re sure you look it. Your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror—you look disheveled. Your face feels warm as you bite your lower lip. Get a fucking grip. 

When you feel like you've recovered as much as possible, you silently slip out of the bathroom. You're not quite sure what to do with yourself now. You really don't want to go back and check on Mr. Vander, and at this point, Frank has probably diagnosed him with constipation and recommended him some miralax. 

But, because you can't help yourself, you walk in the direction you came from, trying to see if Frank is still there. You’re not sure what you’re going to say, but you feel like you should say something. Right?

You realize you’re right as you round the corner, Mr. Vander is nowhere to be seen.

Langdon spots you immediately, and you feel every emotion at once brewing in your chest as he begins to stride towards you. Before you can even begin to pick your fight, he catches you off guard with sincerity. 

“Are you okay?”

Your breath hitches. You force yourself to recover. “What the fuck was that?”

“I was saving your ass. You’re welcome, by the way. You clearly needed some backup in there.”

“I was fine,” you retaliate. 

“He grabbed you, that’s not okay.” 

“I could’ve handled it. I was about to rip him a new one before you interrupted.” You toss your hands in the air. For a moment, Langdon looks at you like there's nothing more to discuss, like he finds no other issues with your previous interaction. 

“And the boyfriend thing?” You whisper, afraid of who might hear.

“Figured he wouldn’t back off until he knew you were taken. Guys are gross like that.”

“And my boyfriend had to obviously be… you.” You raise your eyebrows.

He doesn't reply to this. Instead, he rolls his eyes like you’re the crazy one, beginning to walk away. His face reads like he no longer cares, like it was a miniscule thing to say, like his big hands sliding over your hips is a casual morning activity.

“We’re not done here,” you hiss, trailing after him.

His long legs carry him faster than you can keep up. “Having a boyfriend would do you good, I think. Maybe it would mean you’d finally get laid. It’d also probably help the giant stick up your ass.” He hums.

“Oh, fuck off,” You say, gracing him with your middle finger. You want to slap him. You want to grab him by the collar and shake him. How can such a brilliant doctor be such an asshole? He looks at you with his eyebrows raised as if to say, anything else?

You scoff. 

He gives you a smile in return, looking deep into your eyes before continuing on his journey to the other side of the ED. 

//

In an attempt to clear your mind, you kill time outside with Dana on her smoke break. The two of you chat aimlessly about life, laughing amongst yourself about a few wild cases that have crossed her path today. You’re still talking and gossiping about Gloria when Samira runs up to you, asking to speak to you in private. 

At first, you’re worried that maybe Robby ripped her a new one, or that she had a particularly difficult case while you were running around, but the smile that tugs at the ends of her lips gives her away. You’re relieved it's nothing bad. 

“What?” You chuckle. She’s gripping your arm so tight you think you’ll lose circulation. 

“You’re dating Dr. Langdon?” She grins.

Your heart stops. 

“What?” You stutter, “Where did you hear that?”

“Holy shit, I always knew something was there!” Her eyes are wide with joy as she practically screams. She hops up and down with enthusiasm. 

You feel yourself growing flustered. How are you supposed to explain this? No—funny story actually—the man who I’ve wanted to climb like a tree just saved me from a creepy patient and lied about being my boyfriend, sorry for the confusion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to find the right way to let Samira down slowly. You want to kill this rumor before it reaches anyone else, god forbid an attending. The words are on the tip of your tongue when Dana’s voice rings out into the ED.

“We’ve got a stroke case coming in, 5 minutes tops!” 

“Oh fuck,” you mumble, turning to look at her. When you turn back around, Samira’s already taken off like a shot, killing any attempt to set the record straight.

You bite your cheek in frustration. You just hope Samira won’t tell anyone.

//

Hours later, after unfortunately getting projectile vomited on by a pregnant teen, you find yourself standing in front of a familiar machine, muttering to yourself as you try to get a new pair of scrubs. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to return them when you haven’t given me a new pair to change into?” You mumble. 

You’re so immersed in your own troubles that you don’t hear Whitaker and Santos approach you from behind.

“How long have you been dating Dr. Langdon?” Santos starts, shoving you in the shoulder with her palm.

“Holy fuck!” You wince. You turn around sharply and come face to face with the pair. They look at you with stars in their eyes. “We actually aren—”

“But I thought you hated each other!” Whitaker gasps. 

“Well,” you huff, “It—”

“Holy shit… you guys have been in love and fooling us this whole time? That's insane.” Santos mumbles.

“Woah, woah, woa—”

“Congratulations, good on you guys for trying to keep it private.” They both nod simultaneously, giving you their stamp of approval. 

You’re just about to slap the two of them senseless when something else catches their attention, and they run off. 

“Jesus Christ,” you say, rubbing your palms in your eyes. You feel the pressure of a headache nestle its way between your eyes. “What the hell is going on with people today?”

//

Your final straw occurs towards the end of your shift. 

You aimlessly crack your bones and stretch your legs after finally leaving Trauma 1. You had spent the last hour resuscitating a 12 year old after they had a seizure, practically jumping up and down with Mel when the child’s heart rate came back up on the monitor. 

You breathe heavily. You still feel the weight of the little girl’s mother as she collapsed in your arms, sobbing as she mumbled thank yous and god bless yous into your fresh scrubs. It feels good, but it's still difficult.

You glance at the clock, grateful your shift is nearing the end. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. You’ve somehow managed to avoid Langdon all day, miraculously being on opposite sides of the ED at any given time. But despite the distance, you can still feel something in the Pitt has shifted—something between the two of you has changed.

You don't have much time to ponder the odd feeling in your chest before Heather jogs towards you, her hand landing on your shoulder.

“You were great in there,” she says with a soft smile.

“Thank you,” you reply sheepishly. You’ll never get used to the praise, but you’re appreciative of it nonetheless. “I couldn’t have done it without Mel.”

“The two of you are killers, I’m super proud.” She beams. 

You feel appreciative of Heather’s leadership and kindness, she’s always been someone you know you can count on to be on your side, so it makes it all the more difficult to believe the words that begin to come out of her mouth.

“Also… I always knew he liked you.”

“What?” 

“Langdon! That's why he’s so harsh on you.” She laughs. “It makes sense that the two of you are dating, you're so alike. Robby guessed that something was gonna happen with you two. We even started a betting pool. How long have you been keeping this a secret?” 

Her words ring out into the air like bells, each one sending a wave of pain in your head. Your mouth feels dry, your throat feels tight. Your tongue seemingly swells in your mouth, rendering you speechless. 

Before Heather can notice you choking on your own emotions, Kiara walks up to the both of you, a clipboard in her hand and a determined look on her face. 

“Hey,” she approaches the two of you, distracting Heather from your conversation. 

You give her a small smile, hoping you don't look as nearly out of it as you seem. 

“Good to see you both, and congrats on the save. I just heard.” She says to you, giving you an encouraging smile. You thank her before she turns back to Heather, your mind drifting off as the two discuss a patient down the hall. Eventually, they say their goodbyes to you, walking away to discuss information more confidentially. 

You’ve never been so relieved and frustrated at the same time. 

You feel dizzy. All your mind knows how to do at this moment is flop back and forth between being mad and confused. 

You haven’t been able to tell anyone about what really happened today, and you haven’t been able to be honest with yourself about what it all means. Because, truly, why has this thrown you for a loop the way it has?

You head for the staff lounge, praying it's empty. When you enter the room and see it vacant, you shut the door behind you with the full force of your frustration, watching as the drying coffee mugs rattle on the counter. 

You take out your anger and confusion on a plastic water bottle in the fridge, twisting off the cap with such force it almost breaks the plastic. So many thoughts swim in your head as you down half the bottle in one sip. 

You can't seem to straighten it all out. Suddenly, the stunt Langdon pulled this morning seems so tame compared to everyone else’s reactions. 

I always knew he liked you. That's why he’s so harsh on you.

You guys have been in love and fooling us this whole time?

I always knew something was there!

You drop your head on the table, hearing a dull thud.

“What the actual fuck is happening?” you mutter to no one. You’re furious that a tiny rumour has managed to wiggle its way under your skin. You hate how easily it angers you, how easily it frustrates you, how easily the idea of it being truthful sends shivers down your spine. 

“I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.” You remind yourself. You try and think of all the times he’s embarrassed you in front of your superiors, of all the times he's publicly called you out and humiliated you. You remind yourself of his cruelty, of his harsh words and even harsher hands. 

Your mind wanders to his piercing blue eyes and his dark brown hair that falls in front of them. The way they looked at you when he practically ran into the room this morning, taking your breath away.

You try not to focus on it any longer. I’m almost done, you remind yourself. I just need to get through this shift. 

//

You’re not sure how you make it, but somehow your shift ends. 

You’re on autopilot as you pack up, making sure you have your badge, your phone, your bag and everything else that comes with it, including your headphones for the walk home, along with your thoughts on the back burner that you plan to continuously overthink and never get over. 

You try to feel relieved that you’re leaving, to be thankful for escaping the rumours that float around like smoke. But when you find yourself finally walking out of the Pitt, saying your goodbyes to the remaining staff and giving your hellos to the first night shift workers, you don't get very far.

When you reach the brisk outside air, your feet feel cemented to the ground. You’re not sure what holds you back, but you can't bring yourself to start your music, to take the familiar route back to your place. It’s chilly out, and you watch your breath come out in puffs. It dissipates into the air, fading to nothing. You’re just about to chide yourself for being so foolish when a familiar voice rings out into the night.

“I thought you’d be home by now.”

You don’t have to turn around to know it’s Langdon.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Me too.”

Your eyes try to focus on the Pittsburgh streets in front of you. You attempt to control the way your body tenses as Frank approaches to stand at your side, but you find it increasingly more difficult to command your body in his presence. 

“Had a hell of a day,” you continue. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to talk to him right now. It’s odd speaking so calmly with Frank, normally you two would be yelling. 

“So I’ve heard. Apparently, our wedding is in September.”

“Ah. Good to know. I’ll try to make it.”

You’re caught off guard when, unexpectedly, Langdon laughs. You dont think you’ve ever heard such a warm, rich sound before. 

“I heard the betting pool was really big. Bigger than the ambulance one.” He says casually.

You snort. You were brand new when you joined that bet. You remember Frank had chewed you out so loudly in front of Gloria you thought you were gonna cry, so instead of breaking down in the bathroom you bet 50 bucks on ‘drug addict, crash, not in our vicinity.’ 

When you glance up at Frank, you realize how much time has passed since then. You’re both older, more advanced in the medical field, different. The two of you have battled demons no one knows about. 

“Heather said we made a good couple.” 

“I’m not surprised,” He replies. “Robby came up to me to tell me not to fuck it up, so clearly we have a lot hinging on this fake relationship.” 

You laugh at the thought. A beat of silence passes between you two, and for a moment, you're worried this peace may never happen again.

“You were the one who started this mess.” You say, trying to keep the conversation going. Where you want it to lead, you’re unsure.

“I know. And I’m… I’m sorry. Really.”

Frank turns to look at you. You see an unfamiliar emotion swirl in his irises: regret. He’s never apologized to you before, not even when Robby demanded it. You know he must be serious.

“No, I’m sorry.” You confess. “You were doing me a favor and all I did was yell at you.”

“I guess we’re both assholes.”

You toss him a soft smile. It’s weird, talking with him like this, but not unwelcome. You think this is the longest you two have ever spoken without raising your voices.

“I just… It’s so hard to be near you sometimes. You act like working with me is the worst thing in the world.” You say, looking up at him. Your brows crease in such a way that your face floods with sadness, like you’re just finally admitting to yourself that maybe this dynamic isn’t truthful to how you really feel.

“It’s not. I swear it isn’t. You’re a brilliant doctor.” He breathes out. He runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut before continuing. “I just can’t fucking concentrate around you.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up.

“And I’m sorry about the boyfriend thing. I just sort of… I don’t know. That patient was just so fucking handsy and—”

“You saw him grab me?” 

“Yeah. Yeah I, I couldn’t see straight. And I know you can handle yourself, I just really wanted to hand his ass back to him. And, fuck—I’ve really been a dick today—I’m sorry about the whole getting laid thing.”

You laugh out loud, bringing your hand to cover your mouth. “No… No, you were right. I’ve had a stick up my ass all day. All year, actually.”

Langdon laughs with you, and you can see some of his hesitation leave his body as he turns towards you. The two of you chuckle over the absurdity of all. 

“So I distract you? That’s why you’re an absolute dick to me?” You say, feeling brave. You see the way his face flushes and his jaw tightens before he answers. You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to convince yourself this is still friendly territory.

“Listen, I never said it was logical. Nor did I say it was a good excuse. But it’s true.”

You let the words sit between you two as you turn over your response. You’re not sure how blunt you want to be, but the actions of today have pushed you to a place you’ve never ventured before. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy, Frank. All day, all anyone’s told me is how much you like me, how good we look together, how we’ve secretly been in love all these years—”

“Are they wrong?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!” You groan. “I don’t know. Because, really, you’re a pain in my ass. You make me so mad sometimes I want to kill you. And yet, I practically fucking short circuited today when you said you were my boyfriend. So why’s that?”

“And you’re asking me?”

“Don’t you always have the answer to everything?”

You watch as his icy blue eyes scan your face, trailing down the bridge of your nose, the slope of your cheeks, the peak of your soft lips. 

“I got jealous today.” He states plainly.

“Because of Mr. Vander?”

“No. Well, yes, but also today I realized I’m actually not sure if you have a boyfriend. And then I got jealous in case he did exist... Does he?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Okay then.”

The air stills between you.

“Are you still jealous?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you suppose we do to make you feel better?”

//

For a brief moment as you and Frank stop kissing each other to gasp for air, fingers fumbling at the strings of your respective pants before flying back to each other's bodies, you wonder if you’ll regret this decision to end your war.

The two of you stumble into your apartment a few blocks away from the Pitt, lips entangled with one another as you struggle to lock the door behind you.

Frank, being the newfound gentleman he is after your confession session, decided to walk you home for ‘safety reasons.’ Of course, this resulted in you inviting him up, which has landed you exactly where you are now, in your bedroom peeling off your scrubs. 

When you two are fully undressed, your hands fly to his brown locs as he hoists you up on his hips. His strong arms hold you tightly against him before he lays you down on your bed, laughing into your mouth.

“Something funny?” You ask, eyes trailing down his abdomen. 

“Just thinking…I’m basically a genius.”

“How so?” You say, dragging him back to kiss you. His tongue swirls around yours playfully, momentarily losing himself in you before he pulls away, panting slightly. 

“I said earlier today that having a boyfriend would get you laid. And I was right.”

“Hmm… Is that what you are?” You whisper, your voice low and sultry. Frank’s pupils are blown out as they look at you, eyes ravishing your body as you lay bare below him. 

“I want to be, if you’ll let me.”

“I’ll consider it,” you promise. You laugh slightly, but the warm feeling in your chest at the sight of Frank in your bed tells you you’ll never let him go.

For the rest of the night, You and Frank are a tangle of limbs and lips, hands clinging on to each other as he brings you to the edge of atmosphere and back again. He watches the stars in your eyes when his mouth licks at your core, when his dick brushes against the sensitive spot in your walls, when he whispers his dirty praise in your ear from behind. 

You two fall into a comfortable rhythm, working together in sync like you were meant to hold each other. You watch each other with care as your bodies work in tandem, as you aim to please one another. Your name on his lips as he paws at your chest, the softest kisses on your neck as his hips rock into yours. Somewhere in between the clapping of flesh lies the quiet conversations and heartfelt confessions. 

When you two eventually run out of steam, blissfully fucked out and sprawled on the bed in comfortable silence, all you can do to convey your affection is to softly graze his lips with yours, running your fingers through his hair as you fall asleep in his arms. 

//

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[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

the bodyguard | part 11

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Famous!reader AU

After joining Maverick's security team once he left the navy, Rooster had become the best bodyguard around. He never thought too hard about it, he'd go in, protect whoever he was assigned, and leave. The threat against his client never really went anywhere if he was on the job, and he always put it first. All until your assignment came along. Suddenly his biggest threat might not be the stalker watching your every move, but rather trying not to fall for the world's biggest pop star.

warnings: stalker, threats, toxic parent, anything else let me know

length: 3.1k

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Rooster didn’t knock. 

He threw the door open hard, hand already on his weapon, pulse pounding against his ribs. How was this possible? The only people who knew of your location were Maverick, Iceman, and himself. Had they been followed? Had someone let the information slip? 

The cabin looked normal. There was a warm light from the kitchen and the smell of something burning faint in the air. 

As he approached the kitchen, you turned from the stove, startled. “Hey! You’re back.” You smiled brightly, but at seeing his tense shoulders and intense stare, your smile immediately faded into concern, “what's wrong?” 

You were wearing his hoodie again, with the sleeves pushed up, a wooden spoon in one hand and flour on your cheek. You’re safe. 

You’re safe. 

Rooster didn’t answer, instead, he swept through the room in three long strides, checking the windows, corners, the bedroom door. Every instinct in him screamed that something was wrong. That someone was still there. 

And in all the years he’d been doing this job, he knew that his instincts were always right. 

“Bradley?” you asked, more cautious now. 

“Stay there,” he ordered, low and firm. “Do not move.” 

Your face shifted, registering the edge in his voice as you dropped the spoon onto the kitchen counter. 

He moved to the bedroom, clearing it in seconds.

Empty.

Back to the living room.

Empty.

Then the bathroom. 

Nothing. 

But the prints had been real. Someone had been here. 

“Bradley,” you said from the kitchen doorway, quieter now. “You’re scaring me.” 

He crossed to you in two steps and gently but urgently moved you aside, checking the small pantry, the back entrance, the crawlspace access. 

And that’s when he heard it. 

The softest creak. 

Behind you. 

He spun – just as the shadow lunged from behind the couch. 

“Get down!” He yelled. 

You dropped, but not fast enough. 

The stalkers knife sliced out as he lunged, grazing your arm – a flash of red blooming instantly on your hoodie. You cried out, stumbling back, clutching your arm. 

Rooster met the stalker mid-charge, and they collided with a sickening crash, tumbling through the coffee table in a burst of shattered wood. The man was smaller, faster – but Rooster was pure force. He landed a brutal punch, then another, knocking the blade free. 

The stalker snarled through his mask, and kicked out, catching Rooster in the ribs – but Rooster barely flinched. He drove him backward toward the wall, ready to end it completely, but the bastard slipped free, ducking low and bolting toward the back door. 

Rooster lunged after him, but by the time he hit the porch, the man was already gone – vanished into the trees. 

Gone again. 

He was back inside in a heartbeat, dropping onto his knees beside you. You were sitting on the floor, pale, pressing a hand to your bleeding arm. “Let me see.”  

He gently pulled your hand away. The cut was clean, about three inches long – deep enough to scare him, not deep enough to kill you. But it was enough. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, already moving to grab the first-aid kit. 

“I’m fine,” you said, breath shaky. “He just... he came out of nowhere.” 

“I knew he was here.” Rooster tore open a packet of gauze with trembling hands. “I saw his tracks outside. He must’ve slipped in while I was checking the tree line.” 

He cleaned and wrapped the wound quickly but carefully, jaw tight, eyes flashing. You flinched once but didn’t cry out. Maybe it was the shock. 

That had been him.  

For the first time, you’d come face to face with the man that had driven you into hiding. 

“I’ve got you, princess.” Rooster said, voice low. “I promise.” 

You leaned into him, still shaken. “Why didn’t he... try to do more?” 

Rooster looked at the back door, then toward the window where moonlight streamed over the snow. “Because he didn’t want to,” he said darkly. “Not yet.” 

Then he saw it. 

A piece of paper on the floor, half-tucked beneath the edge of the rug by the door. He picked it up slowly, dread already blooming in his chest. 

Four words were scrawled in jagged black ink: 

I’ll see you soon. 

-- 

The silence in the SUV was thick. 

Rooster kept one hand on the wheel, the other near the holster tucked under his jacket. Every glance in the rearview mirror felt like a countdown. He didn’t trust the highway. He didn't trust the car. He didn't trust anything anymore. 

Or anyone. 

You sat curled in the passenger seat, bandaged arm resting in your lap. You hadn’t said much since you’d left the cabin behind – just nodded when he told you to pack light, eyes glazed with shock, hoodie zipped all the way up like armor. 

You hadn’t cried. You wouldn’t let yourself. 

He didn’t know if that was better or worse. 

In a weird way, seeing the guy had made you feel better. He wasn’t some huge, scary monster, he was just a man, a man who could be stopped, shot, arrested.

You didn’t want to hide anymore. 

Outside, dusk had faded into black. The long stretch of highway blurred past you, the city still hours away. 

“He was in there the whole time, wasn’t he?” Your voice finally broke the silence – quiet, but steady, “While I was... cooking... he was there.” 

Rooster nodded once. “He waited for the right moment. He wanted you alone.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” you said softly, glancing at him. 

That hit harder than it should have. He tightened his grip on the wheel. 

“Cabin’s compromised now,” he muttered. “I didn’t want to bring you back to LA yet, but it’s the only place I can control security-” 

“And the only place he’ll look for me.” 

He didn’t argue. You weren’t wrong. “Maverick is meeting us there. We can discuss a plan.” 

You knew exactly what you wanted to do, but you also knew Rooster wouldn’t like it, so you didn't bring it up. Not yet. 

After a long stretch of silence, you muttered, almost to yourself, “I liked the cabin.” 

So did he. More than he should’ve. It had been the one place where everything between you had felt simple. Real. 

“You’ll be safer at home,” he said, though the word home didn’t sound right. 

You turned your face toward the window, watching shadows pass. “Nothing feels safe anymore.” 

He glanced at you, then back at the road. “It will eventually, princess. I promise.” 

But even as he said it, he felt the shift. The rules had changed. The game was nearing its end. The man chasing you wasn't running anymore. 

He was hunting. 

-- 

The golden LA sun filtered in through the blinds of Iceman’s office, painting striped shadows across the wall of platinum records and tour posters. The room smelled faintly of cologne, coffee and the leather couch that had been there since you were seventeen. It was where every major decision of your career had been made – and this one felt bigger than all the rest. 

You sat upright on the couch across from his desk, arms crossed over your stomach. The soft bandage beneath your sleeve tugged when you moved, a reminder of just how real it had all become. Iceman stood near the window, coffee cup in hand, unread emails glowing on the screen behind him, and Maverick sat near the desk. He’d flown in that morning when Rooster called him, said he wanted to “lay eyes on the situation” himself. Now, he was watching you with a steady, unreadable gaze – the same one Rooster had inherited, you’d noticed. 

Rooster leaned against the back wall, as silent as ever. One hand rested on his hip, close to the weapon tucked under his coat, the other curled into a fist at his side. He hadn’t said a word since you’d walked in. 

The room buzzed with a quiet sort of tension, even before anyone spoke. 

“I’m going ahead with the album release party,” you said evenly, but with a defiant spark that Iceman knew all too well. 

Iceman finally turned. “You wanna run that by me again, kid?” 

You lifted your chin. “I've thought about it. I’m not hiding anymore.” 

Silence. Not even a sigh. Just a still, weighted pause. 

You wouldn’t look at Rooster, but you could feel his stare burning a hole in the back of your head. 

Iceman blinked, then looked toward Rooster. “She got cut.” 

“She did,” Rooster said, his tone flat. “And it could have been worse.” 

“Which is exactly why this is a bad idea,” Iceman snapped, walking over to the desk to stand next to Maverick, setting his coffee down hard. “You’re still a target.” 

“And hiding didn’t stop him, did it?” you shot back. “He found me in the middle of nowhere.” 

Maverick shifted in his seat but said nothing. 

“I don’t want to live afraid,” you continued. “We control the venue, the security, the guests. Maybe this is our best chance to end it. Maybe it’s a trap, but at least it’s ours.” 

Iceman exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is your life. Not a press play. You could have died.” 

“I know.” 

“You don’t act like it.” 

“I do,” you said, eyes flashing. “That’s why I want to do this.” 

Maverick’s voice cut in, calm and rough around the edges. “She’s not wrong.” 

Iceman turned to him, surprised. “You agree with this?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Maverick said. “But she’s thinking like a survivor. Not a victim.” 

Your brow lifted slightly. “That’s a compliment, right?” 

Maverick’s gaze flickered to you, steady. “It is.” 

Rooster remained quiet, though his attention hadn’t left you once since you spoke. Maverick noticed, but didn't comment. 

Iceman looked at Maverick beside him, then Rooster at the back wall, then back to you. “You realise what you’re asking.” 

“I do.” 

Maverick leaned back. “Then we plan. Thoroughly.” 

“I want to be in charge of every detail,” Rooster finally spoke up. “Every person near her, I vet. Every entry point, every schedule change, I see it.” 

“You’ll have it.” Maverick replied. 

You glanced behind at Rooster. There was no need to ask if he was sure, or if he even liked your plan. You already knew the answer. 

Iceman folded his arms, still looking like he wanted to argue, but then he caught something – a brief glance between you and Rooster. Your fingers had brushed his arm when you’d walked in together. He hadn’t moved since. 

Something unspoken passed through Maverick’s expression. He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a long breath. 

Iceman didn’t say anything, but he looked at Maverick. Maverick gave a barely-there shrug, the kind old friends use to say we’ll talk about it later. 

“I hate this plan,” Iceman muttered, eyes narrowing. 

You stood. “But you’ll back me anyway.” 

He nodded. “Because I trust you. Even when I wish I didn’t.” 

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Ice.” 

Iceman looked like he could tear up, but he rubbed the back of his neck instead. “Don’t thank me. Just come home safe.” 

Maverick rose to his feet beside him. “I’ll get my team moving. Rooster, walk with me.” 

Rooster moved to follow, but Maverick paused at the door and looked back once. At you. 

“Nice to finally meet you,” he said. 

“You too.” 

Maverick didn’t add anything else – but when he walked out, his hand briefly clapped Rooster’s shoulder. Nothing more. 

That said everything. 

-- 

The heavy security door slammed shut behind them, the noise echoing through the dimly lit underground garage. Rooster followed Maverick in silence, boots scuffing faintly on the concrete. 

Maverick didn’t speak at first. He walked with purpose; his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his worn leather coat. When they reached the SUV parked in the corner, he paused and leaned against the hood, arms crossing. 

“You’ve been quiet,” Maverick said, looking straight ahead. 

Rooster exhaled. “You want to tell me I’m out of line.” 

“Nope.” Maverick scratched at his jaw. “Want to tell you to be careful.” 

Rooster’s brow lifted. 

“When we first talked,” Maverick said, “you were ready to throw in the towel. Said the girl was impossible. A diva. Called her stubborn and stuck up. Couldn’t wait to finish the job.” 

Rooster didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. 

Maverick finally turned to him. “You’ve changed your mind?” 

Rooster looked away. “She’s not who I thought.” 

“Yeah,” Maverick said softly. “I picked up on that.” 

Rooster straightened up a little, instinctively defensive. 

“I’m not judging,” Maverick added. “I just know what this kind of thing can do. The job’s simple until it's not. And once your lines blur, they don’t go back to sharp.” 

Rooster clenched his jaw. 

“I’ve seen it before,” Maverick went on. “Hell, I’ve lived it. And the fallout doesn’t care how good your intentions were.” 

“You think I’ve lost my edge.” 

“I think you care,” Maverick said, matter-of-fact. “And caring makes you slower. Not always. But enough to get someone hurt.” 

Rooster said nothing for a long beat. “You don’t trust me.” 

“I trust you more than anyone, kid.” Maverick said quietly. “That’s why I gave you this assignment.” 

Rooster looked down, then met his eyes. “So what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying don’t forget who you are in the middle of all this. Protecting her comes first – before feelings, before pride, before anything else.” 

Rooster nodded once, tight. “I know.” 

Maverick studied him for another long second, then reached out and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “She’s special,” he said. “I can see that. Just... don’t let it get you killed.” 

Rooster gave a half-smile, humourless. “Bit late for that advice.” 

Maverick’s eyes softened slightly. “Yeah, well. You’re still standing.” 

Then he turned toward the driver’s side door. “I’ll get the team moving. You’ll have full backup for the release party. Just keep your head clear.” 

Rooster watched him get in and stat the engine, the SUV rumbled to life. 

Before Maverick pulled away, he lowered the window and added, “And Rooster?” 

“Yeah?” 

Maverick gave him a look. “Whatever this is – don't mess it up. For her sake... and yours.” 

Then he drove off, tires whispering against the garage floor. 

Rooster stood there a moment longer, the echo of Maverick's words still lingering in the concrete silence. 

He wouldn't mess this up. He couldn't.

-- 

The weeks leading up to the release party were chaos, but tightly controlled chaos – thanks to Rooster. 

The venue was swept twice a day by a rotating team of private security, every entrance monitored, every guest double vetted. You watched him slip into the role with cool efficiency, directing teams, managing threats, ignoring his phone when it buzzed with names from his old life. Whatever he’d been before – pilot, operative, ghost – this was who he was now. The man between you and danger. 

And still, somehow, the man beside you. 

He pointed at blueprints and murmured instructions. His mouth was tight, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t smiled in days. You knew he was annoyed that you’d sprung the release party on him, even if he hadn’t said it out loud. You’d barely spoken in the last few weeks, since he’d been so busy with security and you’d been busy with fittings and rehearsals. There were lingering glances, sure, but you wanted more. 

You missed the cabin. 

One afternoon, Rooster looked over the venue once again while you were in the hotel suite, trying to decide on a gown for the event, under Maverick’s supervision. The suite buzzed with low voices and the faint shuffle of garment bags being unzipped, stylists murmuring over swatches, and assistants zipping in and out with clipboards and coffee orders. It was organised chaos – the kind of chaos you had grown used to. 

But even amid the curling irons and hurried chatter, Maverick stood like a boulder in a stream. Unmoving, unbothered, arms folded. He leaned against the far wall, observing everything with the cool detachment of someone who had seen far worse than a fashion crisis. 

You, barefoot and wrapped in a silk robe, wandered out of the main room and caught sight of him just as you reached for a glass of water. 

“You always watch the room like that?” you asked, tilting your head, a flicker of amusement in your eyes. 

Maverick didn’t smile, not exactly. But something about the set of his mouth relaxed. “Old habits,” he said. “Hard to break.” 

You took a sip, then gestured to the seat near you. “You can sit, you know. No one’s gonna jump out from under the coffee table.” 

Maverick looked at the couch like it might bite him, then finally pushed off the wall and took the offer. He sat stiffly, as if unused to plush furniture. 

“You’re not what I expected,” he said, after a beat. 

You blinked. “What’d you expect?” 

“Louder.” 

That made you laugh. A real one. The kind that softened your whole face. “I save that for the stage.” 

He gave a thoughtful nod, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You’re different than the girl on magazine covers.” 

“I’d hope so.” 

Maverick leaned back. “Fame does strange things to people. Makes them forget who they are, or worse – makes them think they’re someone else.” 

You nodded slowly, a more serious expression settling over your features. “I’ve had my moments.” 

“And now?” 

“I’m trying to have fewer of them.” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “That’s why I’m doing this party. Not just for the album. I want to stop hiding.” 

Maverick looked at you for a long moment. Then nodded once, like something in your answer had passed an invisible test. Across the room, a stylist waved you over, mouthing something about fittings. 

You stood but paused. “You know, for someone who only recently met me, you stare like you’ve known me a lot longer.” 

Maverick didn’t blink. “I’ve known Rooster a long time. I care about the people he lets in.” 

You held his gaze. “That’s not a very long list, is it?” 

“Nope,” Maverick said. Then added, “But you’re on it.” 

Something flickered across your face – surprise, maybe. Gratitude. 

You started to turn away, then hesitated again. “He listens to you,” you said quietly. “He respects you.” 

Maverick looked out the window, voice low. “He always has.” 

“Then maybe when this is over... tell him not to run so fast.” 

Maverick didn’t answer. 

But as you walked away, he watched you go, and this time, just barely, the corner of his mouth tugged into something almost like a smile. 

Maybe Rooster would be fine after all. 

---

A/N: Not many chapters left now eek!!

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[lexiimwah]

Needy for a cowboy

TW - mentions of discipline, slapping, oral sex, masterbation, and dick riding

summary: Joel had to go on patrol with his brother Tommy, but you didn’t like that, You were waiting for a night alone for so long and couldn’t take it anymore so you decide to send him a surprise, turns out he liked it but not in the way you thought.

Joel was gone and you were left home alone yet again, you were waiting for the two of you to be alone together but of course he always gets sent on patrol and you HATED it. You were so desperate for him and he was so blind towards it, at least you thought he was. You tried everything to get your mind off of him, EVERYTHING but nothing would help, you tried baking, painting, watching tv, showering, but everything reminded you of him for some odd reason no matter what it was.

After a while of just sitting on the couch watching the time wanting it to go by faster you decided to try touching yourself. You looked at your saved pictures and started to play with your clit but it wasn’t enough. You tried harder and even sliding a finger or two in. Nothing would help. You looked at the time again and only 30 minutes passed by, you started getting annoyed at everything.

All of a sudden an idea came in your head. You took out your phone and started to take pictures of yourself with your hands down your shorts with nothing on your torso. You selected the few pictures you thought he would like and hesitated to send them, after a minute or two thinking you sent them and put your phone down on the coffee table. You were full of smiles imagining his reaction and response, but after a while of daydreaming of that you realized your phone never buzzed. Your smile faded and quickly grabbed your phone, all you saw was “seen” under the photos. You grunted in frustration but was nervous he didn’t like them, you started to panic thinking he lost interest in you since you guys never had the alone time you were waiting for. You decided to go to your room and sleep to take your mind off it.

HOURS LATER

you woke up from the sound of the front door SLAMMING, your heart dropped. You hear him stomping his way into the bedroom and as he opened the door he took off his shirt immediately, all your eyes were focused on was his abs. you needed him so. bad. “You wanted this so bad? you’re going to get it” He said walking towards you with an intimidating look.

“I’m sorry I just thought-“

“No, I liked it but you can’t do that to me without getting any discipline. You’re lucky Tommy didn’t see that.” He cut you off while unbuttoning his jeans. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

“Go on suck it sweetheart, you wanted it so bad?” He was already hard so no need to get that done, you got off the bed while he sat on the bed and you went on your knees. You instantly went for it but he stopped you by tugging on your shirt, it was his way of asking you to take it off and you did.

You began bobbing your head up and down but Joel wasn’t having the satisfaction that he wanted. He grabbed your head with his hand full of your hair and pushed you down until you gagged. He came instantly in your mouth, he’s been waiting for this moment for so long he couldn’t hold it in.

“Jesus Joel” you said with cum dripping from your lips but we grabbed your mouth shut. “swallow it.” he said holding it shut still and he didn’t stop squeezing your mouth shut until you swallowed. You looked up at him waiting for him to tell you what he wanted to do next. He laid down on the bed.

“Ride it baby” He said waiting impatiently. You didn’t want to though, you were still tired from that nap you took. “Joel I’m tired can-“ he cut you off again. “No. You wanted this. You’re getting it.” you grunted while getting on top of him. He helped you at first with his hands on your hips while you went up and down. You groaned from his dick, it was long and it hit your spot GOOD. You couldn’t help but go faster and Joel liked it, he moaned your name softly as he took his hands off and grabbed your boobs while you ride him. All Joel could think about were those photos from earlier and now that he’s getting what he wants he’s ENJOYING it. He slapped your tit and you hissed in pain, it was a good pain though.

He noticed you were slowing down from being exhausted so he grabbed you and flipped you over so you were laying down on the bed with your back facing him, he grabbed the back of your neck and without any warning he slammed into you. You moaned so loud that he pushed your face into the pillow so you would keep quiet, he didn’t want anyone else hearing your pretty moans they were all his. He kept going not slowing down at all. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. so. long.” He said moaning in between his words. “Trust me… me too…” You tried to respond to him but he could barely make out what you were saying because you were so dick high. “It’s all right sweetheart no need to tell me I know you’ve been waiting for this too.” he said as he somehow got faster, who knows how he did it but he was full of sweat and so were you. You were both so close and full of moans he didn’t care if anyone else heard you anymore he was only focused on making himself and you feel good.

You finally hit your climax.

“Joel…”

“I know babygirl go ahead.”

You both came, full of moans and heavy breathing. he didn’t care about pulling out anymore he just wanted to come inside of you so bad. He fell beside you due to exhaustion and looked at you.

“Maybe I should send pictures more often.” you said in between breaths.

“Don’t. I don’t want to take the risk of anyone else seeing my pretty girls pictures, only me.” He said pulling you closer so he could give you the aftercare you deserved.

[thevalicemultiverse]

If your Muse is getting their preferred drink from a cafe or restaurant, are they likely to take it to go or do they like to sit and enjoy it without rushing?

OOC

No specified muse means I'm gonna answer this for my main three -- Victor, Alice, and Smiler:

Victor: Definitely the type to sit and enjoy it without rushing whenever possible. I can see him getting a hot chocolate or nice cup of tea, taking it to a quiet table in a corner, pulling out his sketchbook, and sipping it while he draws.

Alice: Also enjoys sitting down and enjoying it, though she might not linger as long as Victor depending on what her schedule looks like. If she's got the opportunity, though, she'll sit down with her tea and read a book, or do some drawing of her own, or even just peoplewatch.

Smiler: Feel like they're fifty-fifty on whether or not they'll be sitting down with their drink or taking it to go -- like, they're equally as likely to pop into a cafe when they have some time to kill, sipping their coffee while enjoying the wifi, as when they have places to be and just want a pick-me-up for the trip there. They like the chance to get off their feet and really savor the drink, but they're not opposed to just grabbing it and going about their day either. All depends on their schedule!

List of questions here!

[swytdoll]

IT’S A MATCH!

full nelson. how had you ended up here? squashed together as your tinder date—who was old enough to be your father—fucked his stiff cock into you. you were just looking for a little bit of fun after a few months in quarantine, and instead you found yourself stuffed to the brim whilst being pounded relentlessly. the sound of skin slapping together rang in your ears, the blonde’s groans and pants growing the closer he came. his balls pressed against your skin, blonde tuffs of pubic hair tickling you. his thick length rubbed your insides raw. you had never been fucked like this.

when you’d first seen kento nanami he looked like a gentleman, with his clean-cut hair and well-tailored suit. he looked like a person of status and importance, not the type to be splitting a girl that could be his daughter with his dick. but here he is, balls deep inside your pussy on his expensive sofa.

"you're such a naughty girl, fucking an old man like me," he said, voice thick with lust. "how did i get so lucky, mm? look at you, taking me so well." his cock curved in just the right way to hit that special spot inside you. and each time he pulled out, his fat tip would barely catch your g-spot, sending you into a frenzy, and when he pushed back in, he bottomed out. his large hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you would bruise.

salty tears fell from your glossy eyes. he had you full on fucking crying from the overstimulation, the pain only heightened by your inability to see. your hands were clutching at the fabric of the sofa, trying to keep yourself steady, but it was no use.

your cunt ached. the wet, sloppy sounds his angry cock made each time it slipped inside your abused hole had you feeling filthy, and it was clear that he wasn't going to slow down any time soon. your head was lolling back against his shoulder, your body had long given up on resisting. kento’s grip was the only thing keeping you upright, and if he hadn't had you in his hold, you would have collapsed a long time ago.

a familiar knot was forming in the pit of your stomach, and you were desperate to come. “ha—so wet, f-fuck you feel so good. feel me deep?” his voice was so gravelly and breathless that you almost didn't recognise it, and all you could do was moan. he laughed a little, his chest vibrating as he leaned down to nip at the skin of your shoulder.

this position, his thrusts were deeper. he was able to pull you flush against his cock. you were so full, it almost hurt.

his thrusts had turned erratic, and the room was filled with the sounds of your combined moans and heavy breaths. you felt his pace slow, and he began to thrust with more purpose. the tip of his cock grinding into your g-spot.

the waves of pleasure rolled over you, and your vision went white. you sobbed, toes curling. kento grunted as he fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts even more sloppy as he bottomed out inside of you, coming with a growl. you felt his cum filling you, his hips stuttering pushing the heavy mess further in your cunt.

when you both came down from your high, he pulled out, his cum spilling out and running down your thighs. he released his hold on you, and you collapsed against the cushions with a humph, dazed. too dazed to see the man grabbing your phone from the coffee table, hands idly swiping through your apps. bingo. tinder. too dazed to see him swiftly delete the app.

he doesn't want to share. not you.

[bluetimeombre]

۶ৎ Mess of a man.

| Joel didn’t know why he’d let his little brother convince him a night at the bar was what he needed. But he might need to listen to him more. Smut!

[this is pure FILTH. I don’t know what came over me, I need this out my system and I need Joel in mine STAT. If you’re a minor pls don’t interact, this is not a safe space.]

Warnings; language, drinking, age gap (Joel is in his late forties, reader is 21) masturbation reference, daddy, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (both receiving), over stimulation, come eating?let me know if I’ve missed anything

"Still haven't gotten your dick wet, huh?" was Tommy's way of greeting his brother.

Joel grumbled something, propping his foot on the coffee table in front of him. "Get lost, Tommy."

He'd thought that with his daughter, Sarah, at summer camp he'd get six weeks of peace, get work done, maybe take his daughter somewhere nice when she got back. But he forgot he had a brother and he forgot how annoying he was.

Sure, six weeks without his kid was a perfect and maybe a once-in-a-lifetime to get his dick 'wet' as Tommy put it. But he'd been out the game for years, out of practise. He wouldn't know how or who to approach.

"C'mon, what kind of brother would I be if I let you mope around alone in the house," he said, whacking Joel on the shoulder.

"A good one." Joel took a swing of his beer, watching the sport without knowing what team was doing what.

Tommy turned off the tv and snatched away Joel's beer, getting him up from the sofa. "There's a bar I know where everyone looking to get fucked goes, c'mon."

Joel decided he didn't want to know how his brother knew this place but as Tommy was already grabbing his truck keys and heading out the door. He'd be damned if he let Tommy drive his truck.

Yeah... that was why he was going...

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The bar was already loud when he and Tommy got there and ordered their beers. Joel would have one, maybe another if he was here long enough but then he'd go home and... see to himself if he had to.

It would have been nice to have something for the evening. It had been a long time and his own fist wasn't enough. He had a pick if he needed, he guessed. He wasn't immune to all the single middle aged mom's around him that would talk to him on the school drop off, invite him to one of their garden parties. Even some with rings on their fingers always lingered too long when shaking his hand or asking for some 'construction' advice.

But none of them did anything for him.

Tommy patted his brother on the back as he winked at the lady behind the bar. "See anything you like, yet?"

They'd been there... what? Ten minutes.

Then yes, he saw something he liked and his jaw almost dropped.

Tommy spotted the way he stilled and followed his gaze. "Holy shit."

You were with three girls- your friends, Joel assumed- and a guy hanging onto you, an arm draped around your hips. You were nursing a drink, laughing with your friends, tongue darting out to the straw of your cocktail.

Joel was done. He knew it immediately.

You were only twenty-one, young and beautiful and worse, Sarah's baby-sitter. Sure, his daughter was fourteen but on the late nights he had to work he didn't like to leave her alone.

Enter you. Good grades, polite, always called him Mr Miller like it wasn't the hottest thing. You stayed every night Joel needed to work, you cooked for Sarah, even ensured there was left overs for Joel and Tommy sometimes.

You'd tidy when he never asked, you never drank the beers he left for you. You were perfect.

And Joel knew, the first day you'd baby-sat his daughter over a year ago he'd made a mistake. He knew it when he watched you walk down his porch, when he started offering you lifts home and wishing you'd accept, when he had a wet dream like a horny teenager and it was you under him.

This was some cruel joke.

As if you could hear his thoughts your eyes caught over the noise of the bar. There was shock registering first and then you were dismissing your group to walk over to the Millers.

Joel gulped when he spotted what you were wearing. A tight high collared shirt, your hair pinned and the shortest skirt with heels.

Like a present to be un-wrapped...

"If it isn't the Miller brothers," you grinned.

"Hey darlin'," Tommy greeted first, reaching up to give you a small hug.

Joel's jaw clenched as you hugged him back. But Tommy was respectful, hands staying high on your body. Better than Joel would do.

You pulled away and smiled at Joel. "Mr Miller."

He nodded, taking a swig of his beer as he watched your tongue dart out in search for the straw. Fuck.

Tommy held a hand on your back. "I gotta take a leak, keep him company would you."

Joel didn't know what kind of game his little brother was playing.

"Of course," you smiled, sliding into the seat Tommy had vacated. "Don't I strive to look after the Millers."

Tommy chuckled and winked at Joel as he disappeared into the crowd.

"Hi there," he drawled.

You smiled. Maybe it was the lighting, or the alcohol, but your eyes were darker than he'd ever noticed. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Sarah's at camp," he said. He was painfully aware you knew. You hadn't been around in two weeks because he'd had no reason to ask you. Well, no appropriate reason.

"She enjoying it?" you threw a leg over yours, grazing his leg as you did.

"Think so," he said, "what about you, huh? Enjoyin' your freedom?"

You chuckle. "You know I love working for you, Mr Miller."

"Joel," he corrected you. He took a swing of his beer, watching you watch him.

"Jo-el," you draw out his name.

Something in Joel stirred, his pants couldn't be growing tighter, right? Thank god for the dim lighting.

He cleared his throat. "So this is where the kids hang out these days, huh?"

"I dunno about kids?" you said, leaning your body over slightly. "Am I a kid?"

Joel let his eyes wander down. The expanse of your legs, the skirt riding up your thighs and the way your chest rose and fell with your breath. Then slowly, he trailed back up your body. "I guess not."

Of all those times he'd watched you from the porch, you'd always looked back at him at least once, maybe twice to give a little wave as he leaned on the door. Or when you'd started accepting his lifts home and would always linger in his seat when he turned the engine off, the two of you leaning over the console and chattering a bit longer. Or when it came to staying to watch a game with him when Sarah had gone to bed when he knew you hated sport.

Of all those times he'd never let his mind wander as much as it was not.

"Tommy dragged me out," said Joel, taking more of his beer.

"He dragged you?" you chuckled. "You didn't want to come?"

"I'm glad I did," he said.

You take a longer sip of your drink, nodding. "I'm glad you did too."

Joel watched you a second as you tilted your head, a small tilt to your head. "You wanna another drink?" he asked. He wasn't even sure how much you'd had already. Was all this new look and attitude the cocktails talking?

"I should be good," you muse.

Joel decided in that moment he'd either spend the rest of the night in your company, or go home alone. "Your friends not missing you?" he didn't even want to look back at your friends maybe waiting for you. Or that guy watching you.

You also didn't care to look back. "Let them."

Joel smirked as he brought his bottle to his lips. "Atta girl."

He heard your intake of breath and felt satisfied. Your leg kicked off your other one and had grazed his, going down and down and he was sure you weren't doing this on accident. Not anymore.

"You can't say things like that," you chuckle, shuffling in your seat.

God, your thighs were pressing together tightly. Such a pretty sight...

You leaned over in your seat. "Do you know how many women would kill to hear you say that to them?"

"Well, i'm saying it to you, ain't I?"

You look at him through your lashes and Joel's legs widen to accommodate for the rising need in his crotch. It was wrong. It was so wrong. It was crossing a line. "I think I'll take that drink, if you're still offering?"

Joel nods and waved someone over to get you the same. The two of you talked a little more as you waited, your drink sliding over moments later.

"It must get lonely," you said, fingers dancing around the condensation of the glass. "That house all alone."

It seemed both of you had forgot about Tommy at that point.

The game being played between the two of you suddenly seemed real to Joel. "You tryin' to get an invite over?"

"Maybe."

You didn't miss a beat.

Joel looked at you. People were piling into the bar, music was being played but all he could focus on was you.

Your hand darted out, your fingers grazing his knee.

He looked down at his knee, where you touched him. Could you make out the dent in his jeans. "You know, i'm old enough to be your father."

"So should I start calling you daddy?"

He chocked on his beer. He managed to finish it, smirking to himself. "You got a mouth on you."

"You started it looking at me like that."

Joel rested against the bar. "I'm your employer."

You shrug. "And i'm not at work."

Joel looked around the bar and found his brother making out with a woman at the furthest end. He was sorted. "Why do you hang out here, huh kid?" if what Tommy told him was true he wasn't sure he could handle the idea of you coming here, looking out for someone that wasn't him.

You shrug. "It's a good bar, good drinks, good company usually."

"Usually?" he teased, his hands on his thighs. "You know, Tommy told me some filthy things around this place."

You lick your lips, holding back amusement. "Really?" you stand to your feet, leaning on the bar closer to him. You slot perfectly between his thighs.

His hand danced close to your hip but didn't touch you. Not yet. "People come here for one thing."

"Enlighten me, Joel."

His name from your lips made his brain fuzzy, effecting him more than any beer. But he couldn't do it, god, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Of the counter. Of how good you'd look bent over the counter, tight skirt bunched up at your hips.

But the words failed with him.

It was like you could tell, like you knew every move of his and every twitch.

You take one more sip of your drink before sliding it over the counter.

Joel watched as you got to your feet and worry rose on him. Worry he'd lose all he wanted.

"I'm going around the back, i'm going to be there for two minutes before I call an uber to go home. See you."

You meant it to. He watched you walk off, only briefly waving to your friends as you wove in and out of the people.

You were giving him two minutes to fuck over his life.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You waited, and waited for what you thought was two minutes. Truth be told you didn’t have a watch and lingering around the back of the bar probably wasn’t the greatest idea.

You could tap your foot and wait, rethinking your words and actions and hope that every time the door swung open, it would be your boss.

Joel fucking Miller. What game were you playing? More to the point, what was he doing?

Looking at you like that, carelessly letting his eyes wander as he imagined everything he wanted to do to you? You weren’t immune to his looks, his touches that lasted too long and the way he always watched you walk up to your front door, the engine only roaring once you were safe inside.

But now it seemed- faced with the ultimatum of fucking you or leaving you as nothing but his daughter’s babysitter- he was choosing the latter.

You’d really thought your lonely nights with only toys and fingers for company may have been rectified.

As you push yourself off the wall you really thought-

A sudden strong and rough hand grabbed your wrist and turned you back until you were against the wall and until lips were on yours.

You knew the scent, knew the strength of the body as Joel Miller pressed himself against you, groaning and licking into your lips.

You hands are in his hair, tugging at the curls of black and grey as you let him feel all your body, his arms caging you in and hand dragging down and down and-

"That was three minutes, sweet girl," Joel’s beard scratched your neck as he dragged his lips over your pulse.

You hold back a moan. The music in the bar was loud and the only people coming this way were the ones looking for a quick piss. Still you wanted nobody to stop this. "Wanted to give you a chance."

He nodded into your neck, biting the skin and winning a gasp from you. Joel tilted his head back, searching your gaze that only saw him. "Tell me you want this."

You nod. "I want it."

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb dragging down your bottom lip. He watched, entranced. "You’d let me down anything, wouldn’t you?" He whispered, looking as if he wasn’t all there. That some part of his mind was already fucking you against the wall.

You lower your head until you can reach the pad of his thumb, kissing the tip. "I want it."

"Oh, fuck baby," he groaned, pushing the pad of his thumb further into your mouth. Promises of things to come. "You’re gonna kill me sweet girl."

Your hand ran down his stomach until it meant the tightness of his pants and running up and down until you could feel the press of his length in your palm.

Joel indulged for a minute. His thumb in the warmth of his mouth while your other hand rubbed him right. Then he snapped back into reality as the door banged on the wall.

Not there.

Against himself, he took his thumb from you and grabbed your wrist, alerting you.

"I need your word that if we do this, Sarah doesn’t find out," he said sternly.

You chuckled. "Well I’m hardly gonna tell her I screwed her dad, am I?"

"Hey," he held one finger in front of your face, defying your smirk. "Your word, little miss, or I can drop you off home and you can watch while I take care of the problem you created."

You gulped. Maybe for a moment you forgot it was Mr Miller you were affronted with. Quickly, you nodded your head.

"Good girl," he surged forward and sucked on the bottom of your lip, his hips digging into yours. He groaned as you ground on him, nails digging into his biceps. "Feel wha’ you do to me, huh? You know how many times I’ve had to fuck my own fist and think of you?"

You practically melt at his words, leaning back into the wall. "Joel… please."

"Please what? Huh?" he taunted, rutting his clothed hips into your own, biting down on his lip as you threw your head back, moaning at the sensation. "C'mon, tell me what you want. Be a good girl and say it."

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered.

Joel scoffed. He left his hips against yours. He tutted. "I'm an old man, darlin', you're gonna have to speak up."

"Fuck me!" you all but screamed, desperation turning you into a mess.

Joel grabbed your hand and started to drag you from the alleyway, searching around as if his daughter might pop up out of nowhere.

You couldn't care less, didn't think about the group of friends you were leaving, or the guy that wanted you. Your hand circled over Joel's stomached t shirt, nails scratching as you leant into his side, lips marking up his neck.

"Fuck, baby," Joel groaned as he searched in his pocket for his keys. You joined the search, your fingers searching all around the dent in his jeans. "Fucking desperate, aren't you, huh?"

"Can't wait, Joel," you whisper in his ear, lips brushing, shivers running down his spine as you squeezed his crotch. "Please baby."

Joel grunted. He was practically shaking with the need to fuck you, to feel you against him. To have his hands wander all over you and memorise the way you moaned under him. There was so much more he wanted. Wanted to have you scream, wanted your neck bruised with his love and his back to carry the scratches from you.

He just needed.

"Fuck," he couldn't believe he was being so reckless. Couldn't believe that with a kiss and a grope you had rendered him a horny teenager. "Get in the back, babygirl."

He held open the door and practically pushed you in, climbing over you.

You jumped into his lap as soon as the door slammed shut and Joel chucked his keys somewhere to the front. Your lips worked against his, claiming it as yours and invading an unknown territory. You moaned as his tongue ran against yours and sucked it into his own mouth.

His hands were warm and large as they gripped your ass harshly, a soft slap echoing around his truck.

"You gonna let me slide my fingers into your pussy, baby?" he asked against your lips.

You moaned.

"Hey!" he grabbed your chin, pulling you back to stare at him. Your lips were already red and swollen. "You gotta talk to me baby. You want my fingers? Say yes."

"Yes please," you say, catching your breath. Your chest felt heavy, your pussy throbbing. "Please, want your fingers."

Joel smirked, finger tips brushing under the band of your skirt. "So polite."

The space at the back of his truck was small and cramped but he'd be lying if he hadn't thought about this. Hadn't thought about you in the back of his truck, cock stuffed down your throat or his face buried in your thighs.

All those times he'd taken you back, it had never been as innocent as he would let on.

But having you in his lap, begging for it, practically drooling with just his words, he had a feeling you weren't as innocent as you'd always made out to be.

Joel let the elastic of your skirt slap into place, causing you to jolt into him. As you jolted, he used the leverage of your hips to pull your skirt up and feel under you. "Jesus baby- you're soaked."

His finger slid up the cloth of your panties, collecting the dampness and smearing it.

You gasp as he presses into your pussy, pushing the cloth into you. "Joel please, I asked so nice."

"You did, sweet girl, you did," he nodded, watching as your eyes squeezed shut. "Hey- eyes on me baby, right here." He gently slapped the under part of your chin to get you to look at him as he easily hooked your panties to the side and sunk a finger in.

You hum out a moan, head tilted back.

Joel found the crevice of your neck, dragging his beard against the soft skin and relishing in the red that bloomed. "You like it? You like my fingers inside your heat? God, you're so warm."

"Like it," you nod, eyes shutting again.

Joel groaned low in his throat as he grabbed your chin and forced your forehead against his. "You keep your eyes on me, you understand me. Or i'll drop you off home. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Miller."

"Oh-" Joel sunk his ring finger in until he was knuckle deep. "You're so good for me."

You tighten around the feel of his fingers. He's barely curling them and already you're squirming at the sound of your own slick.

"Ride my fingers, babygirl, gowan' now."

Obediently you started to move, riding his hand. His rough palm moved with you. His mouth remained open in a small 'o' as you wither against him, moaning.

Joel couldn't help the filth that spilled from his mouth. But with every clench you gave around his fingers, you didn't seem to mind.

"So good for me... such a good girl,"

"Dirty too, riding me in the back of the truck you and Sarah ride in."

"Fuck, i've dreamt of this, you look so good with my fingers stuffed inside of you."

At his encouragement you grip his shoulders, moving faster until your skirt is ridging up your hips and the little wisps of your hair are sticking to your forehead from sweat.

His thumb pressed down on your puffy and begging clit.

"Shit- ah- fuck!"

Joel's hips involuntarily bucked up to yours. "You wanna cum, sweet girl?"

You bite down on your lip, nodding and looking at where his forearm- taunt and veiny- disappeared under you.

Joel rested his head next to yours, kissing the sweat at your neck. "Tough baby, you're so dirty. Dirty girls have to do a lot of waiting till they get their reward."

Slowly, he retracts his fingers.

"Look at all this mess," he tutted, looking at how his fingers glistened with your need. He pats your hips, "up."

You fall onto the seat next to him, legs spread and head resting back on the car door.

You watch as Joel lifts his hips, un-buckling his belt as he starts to pull off his boxers and jeans. Your foot danced over to his lap but he impatiently pushes it away.

"You want to cum, don't you?" he asked, sending you a dark look. His hand grabs your ankle as you nod and kisses the bare skin above your heel. "Then behave."

The hand that you had just been riding wrapped around his cock and brought it out.

Your mouth opened as you stared at the beauty of the thing. He was big, bigger than you'd seen and bigger than you'd dare dreamed. He shone with pre-cum and your arousal as he spread what was on his fingers. His hand worked himself up and down as he relaxed back in his seat.

He looked over at you. "Eyes up here, baby."

Your gaze flicked up to him. "So pretty, Joel."

He chuckled and tugged himself. "Always knew you'd like it. God, you've no idea the things i've dreamt."

"Tell me. Please."

Joel leaned his head back, moving up and down his length slowly as he re-called every filthy dream his mind conjured. "Your hands wrapping around me. Your mouth being so warm and wet as you fuckin' choke on it. God, bet your throat's not used to a man's cock, huh? Only used to boys, ain't that right?"

He opened his eyes, peeking at you.

You'd dared closer to him, leaning over. You nodded.

"Bet that kid in there was hoping you'd give him a chance," he went on, his other hand coming up and thumb and forefinger tugging at your chin. "He didn't stand a chance as soon as you saw me, did he?"

You shake your head, shuffling closer into his side.

He jerked your head toward him. "Answer me."

"Only want you, Joel," you tell him.

You lick your lips, eyes darting from him to his leaking cock. The tip was red, begging for attention. "Can I- Can I please?"

Joel stroked back your hair. "Go on then, baby. Have a play." He stretched his arms along the back of the truck and watched to see you move.

But Joel quickly realised you didn't come around to play.

You'd always seemed so innocent- so un-knowing- when you looked after Sarah, when you helped him clean down the kitchen, when he'd offer you lifts back or to stay over you'd always blush and lower your head.

You were lowering it now, throwing your hair back over your shoulder and holding the base of him.

First, you touch him with your lips lightly and he smiles, daring not to think this might be the only time he lets you touch him like this. Your lips are so pretty and pink, swollen and wet from kissing him as you drag them along the sides.

Then you pepper kisses along the skin and start moving your hand around the base.

"You really gonna tease me?"

"Wanna take my time," you mumble into his though, kissing the skin.

Next, your hand cups his balls that were heavy with need. He wasn't exaggerating, it had been years since his last good fuck and no amount of jerking himself off to the thought of you could satisfy him. As your fingers played with his balls, rolling them around and giving them warmth and attention they craved, you made out with the tip of his cock.

You collected his pre-cum with your lips and tongue while still fondling him.

He could feel his shirt stick to him, his chest rising and falling quicker. Shittin-fuck. How was he supposed to last if this was what you were giving him?

"Easy, baby, easy," he eased you, stroking back your hair.

He knew you heard cause you were smirking then opening your mouth and taking him deep, almost all the way in one.

Joel groaned and grabbed the door. "Shit-ah-"

He didn't care if he wasn't far from the bar. Didn't care if anyone tried to get a look in through the fogging up windows. He didn't care if Tommy came by and applauded him for getting his dick wet. All he cared for was the feel of your wet mouth all the way down him, spit drooling down his cock.

You were doing so well and he wanted you to know.

"You wanna take me deep, huh?" he grunted, clutching onto your hair and holding you down. You gagged around him. He chuckled. "I'm not even all the way in there. You got room for more?"

You dragged your mouth up, taking a deep breath and nodding. You wiped your mouth from the mess you made and went in again.

This time, you took him again and again, deeper, bobbing him in your throat until he was a grunting and groaning mess. His hips moved of their own accord, shoving himself in even when there was nowhere else to go.

But the sounds of gagging, of his balls slapping against his own thighs as he moved, of the moans coming out of you were enough to almost having him finishing in your mouth. Almost.

He wanted to, boy did he, but he wouldn't, not until your cunt had swallowed him.

Joel pulled you up, letting you release him with a pop. "Want to be inside, need to be inside."

The truck wasn't the best place but it was the only place he had for you. He wished he could give you a bed, give your hours to welcome him, but Joel needed like he'd never needed. He imagined this is what starvation was, having your treat dangled in front of you.

And you were moving with him, lying down on the back seats, legs accommodating him as he slid in between you.

Joel gently pulled down your panties and stuffed them in the back of his pocket. If he was gonna have to jerk himself off to thoughts of you again, having your soaked panties was the least he deserved.

He glanced down at your swollen pussy and salivated.

Your hand trailed down, circling your clit as you moaned at the time he was taking.

Joel grabbed your wrist, bringing it up to his mouth and nipped at the skin. "Only I get to touch, yeah, babygirl?"

"Yes," you answered, breathless.

Joel loomed over you, bringing the tip of his leaking cock to smear himself over your folds. "Tommy told me somethin' real interestin'. Ask me what?"

"I don't- I don't care about Tommy, right now," you grab his shoulders, trying to pull him forward.

"He tol' me-" Joel strained, his lips brushing yours. It wasn't just your torture he wad delivering. It was his own. "He said people go to that bar to get fucked. Is that why you were there?"

For a moment you seemed shocked to hear it. Then the palm of your hand held his cheek, running over the stubble.

"Worked, didn't it?" you teased.

Joel sunk into you with ease. "Yeah."

He hid his face in your neck as you arched your back into him. 'Take it, take it,' he spoke into your skin, tattooing the words there.

"Joel-" you gasped, holding onto his back. "Fuck!"

"You're ok, baby. You're ok, babygirl," his breath was short. He needed to feel you more, the half way in wasn't enough. "Fuck, you grip me so well."

You gasp, holding him in you. "Need-need more."

"I dunno baby, you think you got it?" he teased.

"Yes, yes."

"What have I said about speaking up?"

You groan, throwing your head back on the seat. "Fuck me, please Joel!"

With a grunt loud enough to be heard outside, Joel sunk further into you. 'Shit, yeah.... fuck,' spilled from his lips as he slowly took himself out of you before sinking in all the way again.

"You feel me?" asked Joel. He held himself up over you because he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna watch you fall apart on his dick.

"Feel it, feel you everywhere," you mumble.

You really did. You felt the soft seats of his truck, smelt him everywhere. The smell of old cologne, cigarettes (though you were sure he didn't smoke) and new wood. It wasn't just his cock sinking into you but his voice as he mumbled filthy things in your ear. His hand dragged down your face, gripping your neck. Not tight enough to cut airways but tight enough to make you squeeze him.

He stuttered, "sh-shit. If you do that again I won't last," he told you. "And I want you to come first."

"Then fuck me Joel," you said, looking up at him.

Joel looked down to where he disappeared into you. You were already rocking your hips into his, desperate for something- anything. His hand pushed back some of your hair as he stared at you with something more than need. Desire. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Wasn't it? Wasn't it everything you wanted since he first laid a hand on your shoulder and led you into his home, welcoming you to his life. "Yes."

His thumb dragged out your bottom lip before his lips were smashing onto yours, wet and sloppy as his thrusts increased.

He moved his hips in and out rapidly, giving you no more time to adjust. It wasn't long before he had to release your lips to breathe.

"Ah- shit!" you yelled.

"That's it baby, be as loud as you like. Let the whole fucking street know who's fucking you," he panted. His hands were at your neck, holding the both of you steady.

"Joel!"

"Shit! You feel so good!"

Joel tugged down your top, not in the mood to care if it rips. It's not like he was letting you back in that bar. He pulled out your tits and latched onto them like a child, nipping at the nipple.

Your hand winds itself in his hair, pulling at the roots and throwing your body into his. You could feel his cock stretch you, the pain mixing delightfully with the pleasure. With every thrust he tipped you closer and closer onto the ledge and as his warm, wet mouth sucked on your nipple, the other hand squeezing and playing with the other, you knew it would be the best orgasm of your life.

"I'm gonna, arg-"

Joel licked around your nipple. "Not yet."

"Joel!"

"Hold it!"

He pushed himself up, holding onto the back of the seats as he used the position to put a foot on the ground and fuck into you harder.

The windows were steamed, your bodies slick with sweat.

The truck was fucking shaking at how hard he was moving you.

You threw a hand out behind you to hold onto the door, bracing yourself as you rocked your body into his.

Joel threw his head back, his neck stretching you and tempting you. "Best fucking pussy out there. And I've been wasting you as a babysitter."

"Yours," you mumble. He hadn't even asked and you were giving him the promise.

His lips tilted into a lobsided smirk as he leaned closer to you. "You mine, huh? All mine? My girl, my pussy?"

"Yes," you nod.

For a minute you can only hear your breaths with the sound of his hips slapping into yours.

Joel's fingers dig into your thighs and bring your leg up to wrap around his waist. "Mine," he all but growled into your chest, nipping at the skin. "Show me. Show me you're mine. Cum."

He thrusted into you hard, his thumb holding your stomach down and playing with your clit until you were coming all over his cock. 'That's it baby... all over me.... there's a good girl.... keep coming,'

Joel fucked you throughout. He had his own finish to reach but watching you fall apart, your mouth open in a silent gasp as your fingers claw into his shoulders.

He cupped your chin, smiling down at you. "You gonna help an old man out?"

You were in no state to, coming down from your highest high.

Joel cupped your ass and lifted you from the seats that were slowly soaking in both of yours juices. "Ah-" he yelled out at the new angle he was reaching, his balls heavy hitting your pussy. "Yeah- there- just there baby."

"Joel!" you yell. "S'to much."

"No it's not," he shook his head. His eyes were screwed up as sweat rolled down his cheeks. "You can take it. You know you can."

Your pussy was throbbing, squeezing him so intensely you didn't know how he was still moving.

You bit down on your lip as you watched him concentrating hard. You test the waters, wrapping your legs around his waist until your entire lower body was in his weight.

"Fuck!" Joel's jaw clenched as he looked down at you, his fingertips digging into the skin of your soft thighs until he was sure bruises would be there for only him to see. "I'm gonna... shit- Where you want it?"

"Inside, please," you mewl.

Joel looked at you, danger in his eyes. "No, baby, we can't."

You nod and squeeze his hips. "I'm on the pill."

The words were heaven to his ears.

You squeeze around him and Joel yelled out, falling atop you as he spilled out inside of you.

"Take it! Take it! Fucking let me- let me in!" he yelled, hips stuttering as he fell into you. One of your legs remained around him but the other he let drop, holding it weakly.

You were sure you were still coming down from your high as his hips stuttered on yours. You could feel every drop of him smear on your pussy and leak out.

Then Joel's fingers danced around the space his cock was softening in you, pushing it all back in.

His brows rose as he looked down, a shaking laugh coming out. "I-"

You didn't want to hear the words that came after. The regret. The 'we shouldn't have' or 'think about Sarah'. You just wanted this moment of feeling held and cared for by Joel to last a little longer.

Your lips move against his slowly, tasting the salt of sweat from the both of you on there.

He didn't push you away, he just held his lips close to yours, in small and attentive brushes. "How do you feel?" he whispered, pulling back enough to look around your eyes.

"Good," you nod, "real fucking good."

Joel chuckled and looked down. Slowly, as not to hurt you, he pulled out.

You moaned at the sudden emptiness in you, lying there to catch your breath and so you didn't have to prepare for regret in his face.

But it seemed regret was the last thing on Joel's mind.

He had no idea what kind of animal was possessing him or just how far his need went. But when he fell back against the door, listening out to the low drum from the bar, he saw your swollen cunt. Red and white. Red from how hard he'd fucked you and white from the mixture of you and him.

Something growled inside of him- maybe it was him- but before either of you understood what was happening, Joel lunged back in and spread your thigs, diving in.

You lurched up onto your elbows, looking down at him. You could see the top of his hair, his eyes closed and you could feel his nose moving around you and nudging you. "Joel, what are you- holy-"

Joel hummed into your pussy. It was heaven on his tongue, dripping into him. So sweet and all you. He'd never felt closer to a person before. Never felt such a need. He was slobbering like a damn dog over your pussy.

"What the fuck have you done to me, huh," he'd pulled back only enough so you could understand his words.

Neither of you were sure if he was talking to you or what laid between your legs.

He opened up your pussy and went in, tongue fucking into you. He was caught between wanting to push his spill back into you and eating you out till you were dry.

"Joel!" you screamed, voice breaking. "You-you can't-"

"I fucking can," he snarled. His face was being pushed into your cunt as he shook it, smearing both of you all over him.

There was nothing you could say or do before your legs trembled and you came all over his beard and lips. You didn't know what to do, whether to push him off you or pull you closer.

Joel held your hips into his mouth and groaned as he took in everything you gave him.

Every flick of his tongue had you shaking. Every time he gripped your thighs you made a noise of pleasure.

Hours might have passed since he first discovered heaven between your thighs before he pulled himself out.

His face was wet with you. It was sinful and like nothing you could ever imagine. "Look at what you've fucking done to me."

You'd made an absolute mess.

[millers-angel]

joel, come on domestic!joel miller x female reader

summary: you're sitting on joel's lap while he plays his guitar. "his hands, big and calloused and so good at everything they touch—the guitar, his weapons... your body." warnings: dry humping, domestic joel, soft joel, lots of fluff (imo), unprotected sex, creampie.

you were supposed to be getting ready for patrol.

the boots are already on, laced up tight, dust clinging to the sides from yesterday. your thighs bare beneath the hem of joel’s shirt — the one you threw on after your shower, thinking you’d only wear it for a second. long enough to find clean pants, maybe grab your stuff. long enough to get your shit together.

but then you heard it.

the low, familiar hum of strings sliding under his fingertips, floating in from the backyard. you knew that sound — could pick it out from a mile away. joel’s guitar. joel’s hands. joel playing like the world’s still asleep and he doesn’t wanna wake it up.

so now you're here. standing barefoot in the doorway for a second before stepping out onto the warm patio stone, boots heavy against the quiet.

he’s sitting in the shade, sun catching the edge of his shoulder, guitar cradled in his lap. his shirt rides up a little when he moves, and you watch the muscles in his forearms shift as he plays. relaxed, steady. there’s a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside him and a mug of coffee gone cold.

he doesn’t see you at first.

you watch his fingers. the way he picks, slow and careful, like he’s carving the notes out of the morning. he’s not playing for anyone. just for himself. and god, you love him like this — when he thinks no one’s looking.

you walk toward him slowly, boots scuffing lightly on the ground. his head tilts a little when he hears you, but he doesn’t stop playing. just looks up with a small, crooked smile.

“didn’t think i’d distract you that easy,” he says, eyes flicking down your legs, stopping at the boots. “ain’t even wearin’ pants, darlin’.”

“i was gonna,” you shrug, stepping behind him. “but then i heard you.”

you slip your arms around his chest from behind, palms pressed flat against the soft fabric stretched over his skin. he’s warm, all sun and sweat and cigarette smoke, and he laughs under his breath, the sound vibrating under your hands.

“mm,” he says. “this why i don’t play as much.”

you kiss the rough edge of his jaw, the place where his beard meets his neck. “you should play more,” you whisper. “for me.”

joel hums, setting the guitar aside so his hands are free to slide over your thighs, fingers slipping just under the edge of his shirt.

“you ain’t makin’ it easy for me to be good.”

“you’re never good,” you grin.

he chuckles, low in his throat, pulling you gently into his lap. “you got ten minutes ‘til you’re late,” he says, hands already wandering. “then we better make it count.”

he gives you two soft pats on the side of your hip, voice a little more serious this time.

“no, baby. you’ve already missed patrol twice this week.”

you groan and hide your face in the warm curve of his neck, your voice turning sweet and innocent. “i don’t wanna go… please.”

joel chuckles, low and amused, hand brushing over your thigh.

“you never wanna go.”

“but today i really don’t wanna go.”

he sighs, but it’s not annoyed. it’s affectionate. he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers spreading wide across your lower back. “i can’t keep hidin’ you out here forever. someone’s gonna notice.”

you smile against his scruffy jaw, then kiss it gently. “you can,” you whisper. “just sayin’. and anyway… i’ve been feelin’ kinda weird lately. tired. and… i don’t know, i’ve had these weird cravings. might be pregnant.”

joel snorts softly, but his hand moves automatically to your belly, warm and protective. “yeah?” he says, teasing. “that what this is about?”

you laugh, but your breath catches just a little when his palm rests there, gentle and sure. it’s probably nothing —just a joke— but the weight of his hand sends a fluttery little thrill through you. something soft and nervous and almost too much to hold.

he leans in, presses a kiss to your temple.

“you’re finishing the duck you promised?” you asked softly.

you’ve asked for a wooden-duck whenever you see him on his workshop upstairs. he’s always making these animals figures.

“yes, babygirl, it’s almost done.”

“you know… if we got a kid, you’re gonna make her toys.” you rubbed your thumb on his beard.

he chuckled. “yeah?”

“make her a little doll house,”

“that’d be cute,” he admitted. “but until that happens—“

“no, i don’t wanna go,” you mumble again, lower this time, like it’s a secret.

he pulls back a little, gives you that look — the one that says he hears you, the one that says he still won’t let you stay curled up in his lap all day. “you have to.”

you pout. really pout this time, big eyes and a tilt of your head, your fingers tracing lightly over his chest.

“what if i go only if you play me a song first?”

joel huffs a laugh and leans his head back a little. “you always say that.”

“because it always works.” you widen your eyes even more. “please?”

he groans, but it’s fake, his mouth twitching with a smile he’s trying to hide. “you’re evil,” he mutters. “can’t say no to those damn eyes.”

“i know,” you grin.

he shifts the guitar back into his lap without making you move, arms sliding around you with ease, fingers finding the strings like they belong there — like you both do. even with you on him, he plays effortlessly, picking something soft and slow, the kind of tune that sinks into your bones.

you don’t say anything for a minute.

you just watch him.

his hands, big and calloused and so good at everything they touch—the guitar, his weapons... your body. the veins that twist under his skin, the silver in his arms, the salt in his beard. his profile in the morning light — those soft lines around his eyes, the faint crease between his brows, the concentration, the quiet.

you love all of it. all of him.

and even though you’re supposed to be out there — armed, alert, moving — all you can think about is this. this moment. this song. this man you’d let ruin you a hundred different ways just to hear the sound of his voice when he calls you baby.

you swore you could control yourself, but not like this. not when he's practically poking on your slit. you wiggled your hips just a little, but enough for him to feel what you were doing, for him to know what you were doing.

he didn't stop you, though. if anything, joel loved when you grind your hips on him, he loves when you're the one who look for pleasure.

as he played, you kept griding your hips until you started to feel how something gets bricked up beneath you and his voice started to get more raspy. he left the guitar for a moment and moved his hands to your waist.

"you don't get enough, do you?"

"joel, please—" you plea.

his free hand slips to your inner thigh. "this isn't saving you from going to the patrol,"

you nodded. "yes, sir." you put your hand on his. "just touch me, please."

he wouldn't let you go. not alone. not if you don't want to. he would cover all your patrols if he has to, just to make sure you're safe without complaining—he never does.

it's not just about keeping you safe, though that's part of it. it's that he likes coming home and finding you there. barefoot in the kitchen, shirt way too big on you — usually his—sleeves rolled up while you bake something sweet, humming under your breath like you're playing house. like you're already his. and now that you told him you might be pregnant—whispered it with a soft laugh and your lips against his scruffy cheek—he can’t stop thinking about it. the image of you round with his baby, fussing at him to fix something while you stir batter with one hand and rest the other on your belly. the quiet, soft domesticity of it suits you. he can already see it—your sleepy smile in the morning, his hand drifting to your stomach like it belongs there, the life you’re building tucked warm between you. it doesn't scare him like it used to.

he can see you playing his little housewife and it suits you.

he was already moving your panties to the side, while the other hand was undoing his pants while you kept moving your hips. joel's grip on your hips tightens as you continue to grind against him, his eyes darkened with lust.

he moves one hand down between your legs, his fingers brushing against your slick folds, teasing you even more. you sway your hips, this time, in order for him to touch you properly.

joel chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you need him most.

"someone's impatient," he says, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks again.

"i could do this all day, you know. drive you crazy with just my touch."

"i gotta go on patrol, joel," you make a sound. "please, don't make me beg."

"aw, poor little thing," he knows what he's doing.

"please," you pout.

"oh, don't give me that look," he says, his voice a raspy of amusement and arousal. "you know damn well you don't have to beg. i'll give you what you want."

he slides his fingers between your legs, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties. you soft moan. he shifts underneath you, positioning himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against you.

joel watches your face as he slowly pushes into you, his eyes filled with desire and a hint of amusement even more when you whine.

he starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one driving a moan from your lips.

joel's hands move to your hips, his grip firm as he holds you in place. he can feel your body against his, your thighs on either side of him, and he can't help but appreciate the view.

his eyes roam over your body, taking in every inch of you, before they settle on your face again.

"you look so beautiful like this," he says, his voice low and rough. "sitting on me, taking me so well."

"don't stop," you whimpered.

his hands moves to your breasts, his fingers gently pinching and squeezing your nipples. he starts to move his hips in time with his fingers, thrusting up into you at the same time as he teases your nipples, sending shivers all over your body.

joel's fingers move faster, his touch growing more possessive as he continues to pleasure you.

he moves one hand down to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he thrusts harder, his pace increasing.

"and these," he says, his thumb circling your nipple. "these are so sensitive. you're right, maybe you are pregnant."

you chuckled, biting your lip. "shut up,"

"you and i both know you want that. you love playing house," he growled. "might as well just give you what you want."

joel's breathing becomes more ragged as he feels you getting closer to your release. his fingers continue to work your nipples, his thumb circling faster and faster, driving you closer to the edge

he freed your swollen breast to grip your hips with both hands, guiding you up and down his cock. he always manhandles his girl as he pleases. this time was no different, sepcially when he saw you coming, seeing your face full of pleasure was the most precious thing.

joel's control snaps as he feels you reach your peak, his own orgasm hitting him like a wave.

"fuck," he gasps, his hips stuttering as he thrusts up into you one last time. "i—"

his fingers move faster, his grip on you almost bruising as he spills inside you, his body shuddering with pleasure.

you’re exhausted, boneless, your body humming with the afterglow and the ache he always leaves behind. you don’t say anything. just sit differently and lean forward and rest your face in the crook of his neck, rubbing your cheek lazily against the scruff of his beard.

he doesn’t stop you — never does. you do it every time, like it’s instinct, like you’re trying to mark him back.

“mm,” you hum, barely audible, your lips brushing his jaw before you press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. not sweet. not sappy. just… yours.

joel looks down at you. all flushed skin and heavy eyes, hair stuck to your forehead, mouth still parted a little from how good he just made you feel. you look almost innocent like this. tired and pliant and too soft for the world waiting outside.

he doesn’t say a word. just slips his arms around you again and lifts you with ease, your bare legs dangling as he carries you inside the house. holding you like something sacred

you don’t resist. you let your head fall against his shoulder, assuming he’s just trying to help. getting you to the bedroom quicker so you can pull on your clothes and grab your gear. always thinking ahead, always efficient. it’s what joel does.

but instead of setting you down, he nudges the door open with his foot and walks you straight to the bed, lowering you onto the mattress with care like he’s afraid you’ll break.

you blink up at him, eyes still heavy, voice rough. “just give me five minutes,” you mumble, shifting to sit up. “i’ll be ready.”

joel doesn’t move. just stands there with his arms crossed, looking down at you like he’s already made up his mind. “you’re not goin’.”

you frown a little, confused. “but you said—”

“i know what i said, love,” he cuts in, voice low but firm. “but i’m not lettin’ you go if you don’t wanna. stay in bed.”

you pause. then your mouth curls, slow and smug like you just won something. joel rolls his eyes the second he sees it.

“don’t look so proud of yourself,” he mutters, tugging the blanket up over your waist. “this is the last time.”

you hum, already curling into the sheets. “mhm. it always is.”

he huffs a soft laugh and leans down to kiss your temple, scratching his beard against your skin on purpose just to hear you whine. but he still pulls the curtains closed, still makes sure you’re tucked in like you’re something worth protecting.

and you let him. because you know he’ll never really say no to you. not when you look at him like that. not when you ask so sweet.

♡｡ﾟ🐇｡⋆｡ ﾟ🧸⊹ ࣪ ˖♡