#and then when i got my new car i immediately scraped the side of it on a fence so it is now named george after the weasley twins

[itslottiehere]

mors tua, vita mea — h.s

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know, i know, it’s been a while, but i truly hope this story makes up for the lack of writing! i’ve had so much fun while writing this, and i hope you’ll like it as much as i do <3 please, let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblog, in your tags, or in my asks! if you enjoy the story, please consider reblogging! it really helps me and also make me want to keep going!! without further ado, happy reading! <3

— inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift.

cw: angst, a bit of kissing, some swear words

word count: 6.5k

gif by @londonharry

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—

the backstreet was dark, a few spots of light showing her the way to the car she hid before the heist took place. before chris could know that there was only one way that night could have ended, and that was with him locked up. 

she had been planning this for months now: their biggest heist, her biggest betrayal. 

she wasn’t sentimental about it at all, it was just pure business: she knew the cops were closing in on them, so she had to leave before shit hit the fan. simple as that. 

also, chris was becoming way too attached to her as it was, so it was really a two birds with one stone deal for her: she had always made it clear that their “relationship” was nothing more than work, but sometimes the nights in the safe house got boring and lonely, and the company was appreciated. 

still, a few nights of sex didn’t mean there were feelings involved or anything of that sort, and no matter how much chris said that he “got it”, she noticed the changes in his attitude, how protective of her he became, how his touch would linger for a second longer, how he would double and triple check with her if she got wounded, how he would always make sure she was safe before worrying about his own safety.

how he made it so easy for her to manipulate him.

the poor thing never saw it coming. the pink lenses of infatuation making him painfully oblivious to the fact that he was never gonna see her again. 

both her and the outside world, from her calculations: the cops would find plenty of evidence on him, in the safe house, that would tie him up with a pretty little bow and send him off to prison for god’s know how long, all the while making him the perfect scapegoat for her. 

she couldn’t know if chris would rat her out, — although she thought it not likely, given the lovesick puppy look he had ever since they slept together, — but even if he tried to, she made sure not to leave any trace of her identity in any document, in anything that had to do with any illegal activity. 

and even if she did, they wouldn’t have found her: the identity she used wasn’t hers, and she was gonna stop being the person chris knew as soon as she drove away, her new id card safely stored in the pocket of her jacket, the old one burnt to a crisp.

the soles of her shoes were scraping against the gravel, the ground wet from the light november rain, while she jogged to what would bring her into a new life, a new start. she had to get out of there, immediately. 

what she wasn’t expecting was a dark silhouette appearing on the other side of the alley, seemingly jogging towards her. 

fuck, fuck, fuck.

she was so sure she had locked the exit door on the back, so how did chris manage to get out? he would have had to figure out she was planning on framing him. 

if that was the case, this wasn’t gonna end well.

she opened up the door to her car, ready to bolt, when the unknown figure spoke slowly: “wait.”

that was not chris. the voice was deep, rough, and the way he pronounced just one single word made chills run through her body. 

or maybe that was just the adrenaline of it all, the fear of getting caught betraying her partner by said partner. 

“wait.” the figure spoke once more, getting closer to the car. “i need a lift.”

what the actual fuck? did he take her for an uber driver or something? 

she scoffed and got in the car, keys inside the ignition, ready to drive off.

which couldn’t be done since the tall figure decided to stand in the middle of the alley. 

she couldn’t really honk, not when the alarms inside the building were about to go off and the place was about to be stormed by cops. she had to leave, and if she had to run over him, then so be it.

she put her foot on the gas, put in the first gear and was very much convinced that the man would decide to move out of the way. 

but she had no such luck.

his hands hit the hood of her car, hard, while she pressed on the breaks with all her strength in order to not make him flat on the ground. 

so much for survival instincts, she thought.

“were you really about to run me over?” the man spoke — his figure now becoming clearer since he was nearer than before. a lazy smirk cut his face. “mmh. i like you.” 

and just like that he was opening the passenger’s door, seating down and buckling his seatbelt. 

she was utterly shocked, what the hell was going on, why was he- “who the fuck are you? and what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing in my car?”

the man chuckled lowly, casting two deep indents in his cheeks. “oh wow, they didn’t tell me the owl had such a filthy mouth.”

the name made her eyes go wide: the owl. working in the darkest hours of the night was her distinctive trait, hence the nickname she chose for herself while doing business. 

“‘m harry, by the way. don’t have a cool nickname like yours yet, but perhaps i should find one. what about the puma? what do you think?”

she scoffed, looking straight and finally driving away. “well, harry or the puma or whatever you wanna be called-”

“harry is just fine.”

“alright, harry, would you mind telling me why the fuck are you here?” her patience was wearing thin and she really didn’t want to lose any more time on this.

“oh right, sort of forgot to tell you, didn’t i? okay, well, my dear owl- hold up, don’t i get to know your name? i told you mine.” he turned his body to face her. 

judging by the deep frown of her eyebrows and how set her eyes were on the road in front of them, he assumed he wouldn’t get it that easily. 

“well, doesn’t matter for now. so, back to where i was: i have been checking you out for a while, saw your latest works and was very impressed. i’m in need of a partner, and from what i saw tonight, so do you.” he spoke, and in the far distance they could hear the police sirens and spot the blue and red lights: everything was about to go down.

harry coming to bother her on that particular night was really somewhat karmic, wasn’t it? she screwed over her partner, so fate had to bring an annoying man in her plans, once again. she cleared her throat, her tone dry.

“how did you know what i would do?”

harry turned once again towards the road. “i knew the police was closing in on you, so i thought that if you played your cards right you may have the chance to get away, and the better escape plan would have been to ditch your partner.” the man in her passenger seat stretched his legs, his arms raised up, his voice coming out a bit strained. “word on the street was that tonight something was going down, i thought to check it out to see if it was actually gonna be you. my lucky night, i’d say.”

harry had heard plenty about the owl’s operations and was extremely intrigued by her. the plans were intricate, but incredibly well thought out, and often went down without a hitch, and the chosen artworks to be stolen being invaluable masterpieces made it all the more admirable. he knew as soon as he saw one of her biggest heists go down so smoothly that he desperately wanted to be in business with her, so he began keeping tabs on her, which brought him in that alley, that precise night.

he didn’t expect to be so entranced to her. 

sure, he was in awe of her plans and the way she carried on her business, but he was struck by her. even more than her looks, it was the confidence she radiated from her stance, her set gaze, her clenched jaw, that was what drew him in immediately. 

he knew she was trouble, especially given her line of work. but it seemed like he couldn’t help himself to fall under her spell, and that was saying something, since she tried to run him over not even 20 minutes prior. 

oh, poor harry didn’t know what he was getting into.

she wasn’t dumb, nor blind: harry was a treat for the eyes, and obviously way more prepared than chris ever was. still to that day she couldn’t believe he didn’t see it coming, it was all so clear to her. she was sneaky, of course, but he must’ve had some clue, right? or well, she guessed that what people say is true: love makes you dumb. 

harry was another league, though. he kept track of her, which must’ve not been easy since she always took so many precautions to keep everything on the down low; he discovered her plan and also understood that the better route for her was to ditch her partner. 

he definitely had more experience than chris, and that could be an advantage: for once, she could have someone to bounce ideas off of, and since harry managed to find out her ironclad plans, it means that something wasn’t as hidden as she would’ve liked, and having him could help with that.

when she started her business, she swore that she had to be the one calling all the shots: being the perfectionist she is, she couldn’t relegate the responsibility of something so important like a heist to someone who wasn’t herself. she decided to get a partner — enter, chris — just because sometimes it was physically impossible to do it all on her own. that didn’t change the fact that he was merely a mean to an end, he had no voice whatsoever in planning anything, and not once had he complained about it, nor he had any reason to: the money was good, and once he even got to win her affection — or well, what he thought could’ve turned into something more — he was good with doing whatever she wanted.

she had the feeling it wasn’t gonna be like this with harry. 

or well, at least not that easy. 

“that was impressive, not going to lie. it mustn’t have been easy to keep track of my movements. so, bravo.” she spoke, her eyes quickly glancing towards him.

a smirk took place on harry’s face, the praise of such a pro stroking his ego. “it was, but very much worth it.” 

his voice was smooth like silk, and even the dumbest person walking on earth could’ve felt the flirty undertones of his words from miles away. 

she quickly thought about it, a new plan. a new, better plan.

“okay, pretty boy. if you can keep up, i can think about being partners. that is, if you prove worthy of my time.”

“deal.” he smiled, and again the dimples on his cheeks made an appearance. “pretty boy, huh? should that be my badass nickname?”

“still better than the puma.”

that night marked the beginning of a new era, four years of the most lucrative, crazy, exciting heists the both of them could have ever imagined.

and over the course of those years, the inevitable and not so unexpected happened: they fell for each other, and they fell hard.

endless night of planning, scheming, and building trust with each other turned them into real life bonnie and clyde, absolutely drunk on adrenaline and love. 

it was definitely not something she had planned, not something she had wanted either, but there was no denying chemistry: sometimes, things just happen, and you have no choice but to let them run their course.

harry was just as smitten: he was hooked from the beginning, and fought hard to win her over from day one. 

it started as a ‘business partners with benefits’ kind of deal, a way to ‘pass the time’, — at least for her, harry was already harboring feelings for the woman — but it bloomed into something more, somewhat organically. 

he still teased her that she became soft for him when he got injured during an escape: the rope attached to the top of the building didn’t hold up harry, who suffered a bad fall. his shoulder was dislocated, and she had to be the one who had to put it back in place, since hospitals weren’t really an option, and harry couldn’t ignore the look she held in her eyes, as if even just the thought of hurting him was physically hurting her.

he didn’t expect it, definitely not from someone like the infamous owl: she showed no remorse for her actions, no feelings for the first six months of them working together, and he made peace with the fact that that was just the way it was gonna be, but was pleasantly surprised when that revealed not to be the case. 

the world knew her as a scheming, logical woman, but harry had the privilege of being her soft spot.

he was always a pretty open guy, not scared of having big feelings or of falling in love. he had already felt it in the past, he just wasn’t prepared to experience how powerful it could feel with the right person: what he felt for her was something out of a novel, a perfect mixture of infatuation, almost obsession, adrenaline and maybe insanity, and it was so incredibly addicting.

the last heist was a perfect success, their biggest bag as a matter of fact. the artwork they managed to steal had taken months upon months of planning, but it all went down incredibly smoothly: 7 minutes, in and out, exactly like they had wanted. they were already far when the police arrived, harry behind the wheel, driving their getaway car.

with chris, she had never let him drive, ever: she had to be in control of everything, of every little aspect, probably because she never fully trusted him. but she did trust harry, wholeheartedly so. 

the drive to the dingy motel wasn’t too long, the night chill enveloping them thanks to the lack of a roof on their car. the adrenaline was running high still, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and leaving a kiss on harry’s smiling lips, their grins quite too big to properly kiss each other. but it didn’t matter, the feeling was all the same, the rush quite impossible to describe to someone who never felt it.

harry disconnected their lips, not before leaving a quick peck once again, and looked back to the barely lit country road ahead of them. 

“very risky to distract me like that right now, sweetheart.”

“couldn’t help it, pretty boy. you’re just too damn good-looking.” she smiled at the nickname, and harry did too: it stuck ever since that first night, and harry definitely never complained. 

“c’mon, we’re almost at the motel.” harry’s hand took its rightful place on her left thigh, softly squeezing the flesh, awakening a storm of butterflies and inviting them to bat their wings in her stomach. she rested her hand on top of his, gently toying with his rings.

the motel neon sign was missing a few letters, its occupants nothing less than unsavory, but she didn’t care: she wasn’t one to be scared in the first place, much less with harry by her side.

once they got to their room, she locked the door and quickly found her back pressed into it, harry’s lips straight on hers. she knew what was coming, it happened every single time after a hit: the euphoria of a successful heist was a very powerful aphrodisiac.

harry’s lips pressed slowly against her own, he was in no hurry now. after he felt her body relaxing in his hold, he moved onto her neck, and smiled against her skin when he heard a shaky breath falling from her lips after he sucked lightly on the spot he knew would drive her crazy. 

her hand went immediately into his hair, tugging on the curls she loved to play with at every chance she got, while the other travelled down his torso, heading towards his belt.

knowing where she was going, harry detached his lips from her neck and looked at her: flushed cheeks, her eyes — his favorite feature of hers — slightly glazed over, her lips full and a raspberry colour. he smiled at the sight.

“sweetheart,” he murmured. “sweetheart, hey.”

“mmh?” she hummed, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the expanse of his tummy and chest, pressing her lips in the dip of his throat. 

harry hated to have to tear himself away from her and her touch, but a shower was in order, and also making her wait made the whole situation way more intriguing, her getting antsy waiting for him really did a number on him.

her forehead rested on his chest, a small whine falling from her lips when he felt him trying to move away from her, which made harry chuckle. he softly pressed a kiss to the top of her head, slowly walking backwards towards the restroom, but her arms refused to leave his body, so she was stumbling along with him, her cheek still smushed against his chest.

harry reached behind his back to untangle her arms from his waist, not without her protesting. he leaned in and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “be right back”, before leaving the room.

she felt drunk, as she usually did whenever harry was in near proximity, but there was nothing she could do about it.

she laid down on the dingy bed, eagerly waiting for her lover to be back and, to kill the time, she decided to turn on the tv.

what she saw sobered her up real quick.

the news were reporting a robbery at a famous gallery, two figures with their dark hoodies up filmed from a camera at the end of the alley.

a camera both she and harry failed to notice.

they were lucky the camera was at the opposite end of the dark and unlit alley, and caught just a glimpse of their backs, but this wasn’t good. this was not supposed to happen. 

never, in all her years of planning, had she forgot to notice a camera, and the fact that this happened with their biggest heist made the blood drain from her face. 

she tried her hardest to lower her heart rate and to focus on what the newscaster was saying: two suspects, no faces identified, probably left by car, all the other cameras in the block were somehow off during the escape — somehow actually being the work of one of harry’s acquaintances — and the police had no leads for the moment.

all things considered, it wasn’t bad at all.

so why couldn’t she seem to catch her breath?

the bathroom door creaked open, a bit of steam filling the room. harry stepped out, a towel hanging on his lower half, his body glistening with little droplets of water, hair matted and still dripping a little. 

he had a dopey smile on his lips, which soon fell once he noticed that she wasn’t ogling at him as she usually would when he stepped out of a shower.

“hey,” he called out to her, “something wrong?”

she didn’t even notice that harry had walked back into the room, so she slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. her head quickly turned towards him, as she just as quickly turned the tv off.

“of course, yeah.” she smiled. “missed you.”

“could’ve joined me, you know?” he grinned, “never would refuse a beautiful lady like you.” he got closer to her and pressed his lips softly against hers.

she reciprocated the kiss, disconnecting it quite a bit earlier than harry would’ve liked, and murmured still close to his lips, “can we cuddle for a bit?”

harry’s hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs slowly stroking the apples, “yeah, of course. want my shirt to sleep in?”

she excitedly nodded, staring at his back while he retrieved a shirt from his luggage.

sleep came quickly to harry, his arm holding her tightly against his chest, comforted by the feeling of having her safe in his arms.

she still couldn’t quite catch her breath.

.

harry woke up to an empty bed: the creamy rays of sun beamed through the worn blinds, rousing him awake. as he did every morning, he reached for her, looking forward to hooking his arm around her waist and feel her snuggle against his chest. but that day, his hand touched a cold piece of comforter instead of the warm, soft body of his girl.

his eyes opened immediately, trying to adapt to the light, his brows furrowed as he knuckled his eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. his slightly startled heart stopped once he saw her seated at the little desk the room provided, typing away on her computer, wrapped in his sweatshirt with her hair still damp from the shower she probably had just taken.

way too focused on adjusting the last details of the meetup with the buyer for that same night, she jumped when she felt two strong arms engulfing her.

“morning, love.” his morning voice was a gift straight from heaven, it never failed to make her feel warm and cozy. “don’t like it when i wake up without you.”

she could hear the pout on his face, and she smiled at the notion that he was so affected by her absence. “good morning, pretty boy. just had to take a shower and finalize the details for the drop off with the buyer tonight.” she turned around and looked at his still half closed eyes. she tilted her head up, puckering her lips a little, “kiss?”

harry didn’t miss a beat and laid his mouth on hers, moaning softly at the contact.

she hadn’t lied per se, she had to do all of what she said, but she also couldn’t stand lying awake in that bed for one more second: she had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, the video of them on the news flashing continuously in her mind. 

so she tried to focus on work, to get things right before they could go wrong. 

the day went by as usual, the two of them laying low, preparing for the meetup with this anonymous buyer. the sum of money this person was offering was definitely mind blowing, and there was no way they could turn it down. 

in the late afternoon, they left the motel to reach the location given to them: it was a rundown warehouse, obviously abandoned, and they were under strict orders to arrive at 8pm on the dot, to leave the car outside the main gate, and proceed by feet till they arrived to the container with the number 258: that was where they’d find an employee of the buyer. 

it was all routine, they almost never handled a deal with the buyer directly, and they understood the reason. she and harry never exchanged names as well, for safety reasons, or any other details, just informations about the drop. 

at 7:50pm, they were parked outside the warehouse. the chill of the desert air made the hair on her arms stand, a shiver running down her spine. 

“cold?” harry asked, after he noticed her shudder. it wasn’t that cold at the moment for him, and it was probably gonna be worse once the sun was set all the way, but nonetheless he put his jacket on her shoulders, his big hands running up and down her upper arms to give her some warmth. 

she smiled at the gesture, and tilted her head up, “thank you.”

he reciprocated the smile and took her hand, in the other one holding the bag containing the stolen piece of art. “of course, darling. now let’s go, wanna be back in that motel bed as soon as possible,” he cheekily remarked.

they walked hand in hand till they found the container 258, and knocked three times, as instructed. the shutter was pulled up, a man dressed in a suit, who looked to be in his forties, appearing behind it.

“welcome, you must be the sellers. please, come in.” the unknown man spoke, and she and harry made their way inside.

harry laid the bag carefully on the table, beside a briefcase, previously set down.

“thank you, sir. as per your request by email, the-”

“actually,” harry interrupted, “you didn’t speak with me. she,” he pointed to the girl beside him, who had a stony expression, “is the head of the whole operation, so if you want to explain something to someone, you can do so with her.”

this was also something they were both used to, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. if only they knew they were actually talking to the owl, they’d probably kiss the her shoes.

the deal was over in 5 minutes, the majority of which was spent with the two of them counting the money, making sure every penny was in that briefcase. after confirming so, they barely said goodbye to that sexist prick, and went back to their car.

the drive to the motel was quiet, but not uncomfortably so: harry’s right hand took place on her left thigh as usual, while her arm was stretched behind his headrest, playing mindlessly with his curls, scratching his scalp lightly. 

“hey, pretty boy.” she called, a soft smile on her lips.

harry smirked at the nickname, he couldn’t help it, “yes?”

“i really love you,” she softly said, taking her hand away from his hair and moving it to stroke his cheekbone, “you know that?”

harry couldn’t help but feel his tummy warm up at her words, his cheeks getting a bit flushed. “i do know, darling, but thank you for the reminder.” he snickered, “i love you too.” he said, and took his right hand off her leg to grab her hand, planting a soft kiss to her palm, and to every knuckle. 

once they finally reached the motel, harry turned off the ignition and turned to face her. his hand took a hold of her jaw, and pressed a kiss against her pouty lips. she sighed into the kiss, a thing that drove harry absolutely crazy. 

“what if-” she tried to talk, but was quickly interrupted by harry kissing her again, “we go to the room to-” another kiss, “put down our things and-”, yet another kiss, “then we have a drink at the bar?” she put her hand on harry’s chest to push him a bit further, or else she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence. “if i’m not mistaken it’s right by the reception. sounds good?”

harry nodded, and to seal his agreement he kissed her once again.

after making their way down from their room into the motel bar, they sat down at the counter, harry’s hand on her back while she climbed on the stool. 

the bar was definitely empty, just a couple of old men sat in the corner of the room, a deck of cards between them. 

“two old fashioned, please.” harry asked the man behind the counter.

it was a sort of a tradition, getting that drink after a deal: the first time they did a deal together, he was the one suggesting going for a drink, which she — surprisingly to him — did not turn down. once they reached the pub nearby, she ordered an old fashioned, and asked harry what he wanted, to which he answered “the same”, and it became a tradition ever since then.

“oh wait-” she said all of a sudden, which made harry turn his head towards her.

“oh i’m sorry, did you want something else?” he asked, unsure of even his question, since she had never ordered something else.

she quickly shook her head, “no no, don’t worry, i just realized i forgot my phone in our room.” she stood from the stool, “i’m gonna go get it and i’ll be right back, alright?” after she spoke, she left a lingering kiss on his cheek.

harry hummed and with a little smile, he playfully said, “be quick, i’m gonna miss you.”

she returned his smile, and opened the motel bar door, “i’m gonna miss you too, pretty boy.” 

.

harry didn’t think any of it after ten minutes, she probably got caught up on something online, or had to answer to an email right away and couldn’t wait.

he didn’t think any of it after twenty minutes, thinking she may have had a call to make and it was taking a bit longer than usual. he settled on shooting her a message, asking if she was fine. the message was left on delivered.

but after thirty minutes, he needed to check on her. what if she was sick and he was there waiting for her at the bar like an idiot? what if there was a problem and she needed his help, even if she would most likely never admit it?

he left some banknotes on the counter, and rushed his way upstairs.

once he stood in front of the door, his blood run cold: the door was ajar. 

something was wrong, very wrong.

carefully, he pushed the door, reaching for his pocket knife; once it was open, his eyes darted around the room, looking for something out of place.

the thing is, it wasn’t that something was out of place, it was that something was missing: her bag, her clothes, her laptop, herself, they were all missing. there was no trace of her, as if she had never been there.

“what-” he rushed in, the door left slightly open behind him. he hastily opened the bathroom door, checking if maybe she was there, but, alas, she was not.

“what the fuck is going on?” harry muttered to himself, so confused that he was sure that his movements weren’t even making sense. his head kept turning from side to side, trying to find something, anything to help him understand what was going on.

he was never one to panic, always been a pretty clearheaded guy in every situation he’s found himself in, but not when his girl was involved, and especially when he was totally in the dark about what had happened. 

his eyes finally zeroed in on a piece of paper on the desk.

of course, of course she’d be smart and leave him some sort of trace, so he could find her and get her back.

he stumbled on his steps, his legs wobbling as if made of jelly and with frantic fingers, he opened the piece of paper, which showed just four, short words.

mors tua, vita mea.

“wh-what, no-”, he rambled, shaking his head energetically, choosing not to believe the reality that was downing on him. “no, no, it can’t-” he kept chanting, over and over, but his rambling was cut short.

in his peripherals, he saw the red and blue lights bouncing off the dirty white walls of the motel room, the sound of the police car doors closing and of the steps of the officers coming up the stairs, but the sounds were almost muted, the shock making his ears ring.

the door was pushed open, three officers coming in first, guns blazing, while the others were surely waiting all around the motel, pointing their guns at him through the windows. 

“put your hands up! over your head!”

harry robotically obliged, not in control of his body anymore. 

“harry styles, you’re under arrest. you have the right to remain silent, anything you say…”.

he didn’t hear the rest of the miranda rights over the sound of the faith he had in her shattering, puncturing his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

—

18 months later.

“styles, you have a visitor.”

harry’s eyes opened at the voice of the guard, the ceiling of his cell staring back at him. those were words he didn’t get to hear often, only two other times, and both times it was always a nosy journalist wanting to write a story about a pretty successful art thief. he laid still, pondering whether to go or stay in his shoe box of a cell for the rest of the day.

“styles, get up. i don’t have all day.”

harry dragged his feet along the corridor, and once he arrived to the designated room, he headed towards the seat the officer pointed. once he sat down, he grabbed the black phone receiver, and didn’t even bother looking at the person standing in front of him, his eyes closed already in annoyance.

“look, if you’re another fucking journalist, i’m not gonna say a word to you, so you wasted your time coming here and i’m asking you to leave.”

the person in front of him hesitated, as he heard a shallow breathe on the other end of the receiver.

“hi, pretty boy.”

harry’s eyes had never opened so fast, and his heart skipped a beat. 

no, no, this wasn’t real, this was just his mind playing tricks on him: stupid, fucking horrible and cruel tricks.

the voice didn’t match the exterior: the person in front of him had another haircut, a whole other hair colour, the eyes — the feature he most loved about her — covered by large sunglasses. 

but he knew. he knew it was her: the way her lips were set in her natural pout, the shape of her face, the freckle she had at the right corner of her bottom lip. 

the way his heart was going out of his chest trying to reach for her.

he was supposed to hate her — and he did, he so did — but the way his nickname fell from her lips lit up something in him, something that no matter how much he wanted it to be dormant, it was still there. 

his brain could only manage to ask her the one question that nagged at him ever since that day.

“why.”

he stared at her through the glass, green tired eyes boring into her soul. she knew it was risky, showing up at a prison under yet another false identity, but she knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye one last time. one real last time.

so she swallowed harshly, and opened her mouth, keeping her answers short in order not to break down.

“think about the place where you first met me, harry.” she murmured, while his stony expression was staring back at her. “i had no other choice.”

harry chuckled darkly, a grin so deranged that she felt her blood run cold. this answer of hers opened the gate to all the hatred that had been boiling in him for 18 long months.

“that’s such bullshit, and you know it. you had a choice — you  fucking did — and you made it. you chose to tip-off the police, you chose to leave your name out of every document, you chose to use a fake identity with me as well, and make it impossible to track you; you chose to pack your bags and steal the car, you chose to leave me behind and letting me take the blame for it.” his voice was laced with venom. “i spent 18 fucking months in this cell, with just one question running through my mind, all day, all night, every day: why did you choose to do this to me.”

“harry, i told you, i had-”

“bullshit!” he screamed, a prominent vein on his neck, while smashing his fist against the plastic glass, over and over again. “you ruined my fucking life, and you have the gall to give me that as the reason why you did it? tell me the truth! tell me the fucking truth! you owe me at least that.” 

the volume of his voice and the violence he was hitting the glass with made her stand up and hang up the receiver, scrambling to get away from him before his actions brought too much attention on her as well. three officers had to come in to stop harry from smashing down the glass and jumping on the other side of the window, and had to drag him away whilst he was still fighting with all his strength, his legs kicking and arms flailing trying to be freed, his voice repeatedly shouting just one word, over and over: why.

nine days later, harry found himself moved to a facility of a higher security rank: his violent act during the visit wasn’t an isolated episode, and basically opened the door to a side of harry that he never knew. he never knew such anger in his life.

the guard guiding him stopped in front of the nth same looking cell. 

“bradford, your new roomie is here.” the guard sarcastically said, making harry want to punch his face in, but unable to do so because of the cuffs on his wrists.

the man laying in the bunk barely scoffed and glanced at harry while he was walking into his new “home”.

once the guard went away, bradford turned to harry and looked him up and down, then returned to stare at the ceiling. harry could perhaps even manage to put up with the guy, if he always kept this quiet, but he felt like at least an introduction was to be done, to be the least civil. “‘m harry, harry styles. and you are?” 

his new cellmate groaned softly while standing up, putting his legs down from the bunk.

“i’m bradford, chris bradford. and i know exactly who you are.”

harry was definitely dumbfounded, “what? how do you-?”

“your case was all over the news, even inmates got to know about it. but most of all, i know you because i’ve been you.”

harry’s confusion must’ve been displayed clearly on his face, because chris just scoffed and kept on talking.

“we’ve been framed by the same person." he murmured, "and we’re gonna take her down together.”

—

the latin phrase mors tua vita mea, of medieval origin, means “your death, my life” (or: “your death (is) my life”).

beyond the dramatic tone of the literal sense, this expression is used when within a competition or in the attempt to reach a goal there can be only one winner: the saying indicates that the failure of one is an indispensable prerequisite for the success of another.

—

taglist: @a-strange-familiar @stilesissaved @harrysonlylover @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kittenhere @neverstaisfied

–

please, let me know what you think and please, please reblog! thank you so much for being here, it means the world <3 also, just a little fyi, there's no plan for a part 2!

[talesofesther]

play our record, just one more time | ch 1

Eddie Munson x Reader

Series Summary: Your dreams know the sound of his voice, even if you haven't heard it closely in years. His fingertips still tingle when they remember the feeling of your skin, like a poorly healed scar. Or, the story of how you and Eddie fell apart, and found each other again.

A/N: First part of… I don't know how many honestly, this story will literally be me going with the flow, mostly. I will try to keep updates regular, focus on try. In any way, really hope you like it, let me know. <3

Masterlist

1976

"You sure you got everything?" Wayne called out, leaning against the front door of his trailer.

A little ten-year-old Eddie came running from his new room, big backpack bouncing on his back, missing a tooth on his infectious smile. His dark locks just about started to curl around the shell of his ear; "yeah, I did."

Wayne frowned as he looked down at his nephew, one of his hands reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Eddie's shirt. "Did you… is this on backwards boy?"

Eddie glanced down at his chest, muttering a soft; "shit," he dropped his bag on the floor and quickly pulled his black shirt off and on again.

The morning sun stung Wayne's eyes, he rubbed at his lashes with his fingers, still exhausted from his night shift. "I'm not cut out for this," he grumbled to himself.

"Sorry uncle Wayne, I won't do it again," Eddie's small voice was quick to say, looking up at him with his big chocolate eyes.

"Nah it's," Wayne sighed, looking down at the boy, at how he already expected a scolding, "s'not your fault boy, come on," he ruffled Eddie's tiny dark curls and walked out to his car, Eddie tailing behind him.

It would take some time for Wayne to get used to dropping Eddie at school every morning before work, making him breakfast, or patching up his scraped knees and going to school meetings because he was now his legal guardian. He never wanted to be a father, but the poor boy deserved one for a change; plus it did feel nice to watch him run off to school just to turn back immediately because he forgot to say goodbye.

Eddie barged through the school doors with purpose, too focused on finding his best friend to notice the lingering looks of his classmates. He met you just about a year ago, after finding a little note on his backpack of you asking if he wanted to sit with you on lunch instead of sitting alone, and since then you'd been attached to the hip with each other.

He spotted you beside your locker, mismatched socks high on your ankles and a bright purple baseball cap on your head, waving frantically at him and already calling out his name. You always greeted him with a quick hug and a; you won't believe what happened this weekend.

More likely than not, it was just a tale of how your dog ate another shoe. But Eddie loved to hear about it nonetheless.

"So you're staying with your uncle now?" You asked, now walking side by side with Eddie, in no hurry to get to your classroom even though the bell had already rung.

Eddie nodded, hands clasping his backpack straps; "yeah, dad left with his friends one night, and uncle Wayne came to pick me up a few days later, he says I'll be staying with him until dad gets back."

You hummed, your sneakers scratching the recently mopped school hallway, "that's good, your dad was kinda mean, is uncle Wayne cooler?"

"Yeah he is," Eddie beamed, innocent excitement bouncing off of him, "he lets me stay up at night until whenever I want and doesn't cut my hair, he said I can let it grow if I want to. Oh and I think he likes good music too."

"Cool," you chuckled, "we should look through his tapes when he's not home to see what he listens to."

"You can come back with me tomorrow after school," Eddie smiled.

"I'll ask my mom, but I'm sure she'll say yes," your shoulder bumped his as you walked. "It'll be fun."

Eddie slowed his steps when he spotted your classroom door, his smile fading slightly. "I miss my dad though, he wasn't the nicest but I didn't want him to leave like mom."

You stopped walking just short of reaching your classroom, at a total loss of how you should comfort someone but wanting to do it anyway. "Um… I'm sure he'll be back, no one would want to leave you, you're too cool. You should write him a letter, let him know you miss him."

A familiar prickling feeling behind his eyes made Eddie bite his lip, "will you help?"

"Sure, we can do it tomorrow too," you agreed, turning to take a step toward your art class but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Eddie's cheeks turned pink, he let go of you just as quickly as he had reached out. "We- we'll never stop being friends, right?"

"Of course not," you didn't hesitate, words slipping off your tongue easily, "you're my best friend, we'll always be together."

Pursing his lips, Eddie lifted his hand with his pinkie pointing to you. "Promise?" He asked, tone all too pleading for someone this young.

You hooked your pinkie with his, an oath as easy as breathing; "promise."

1977

Only almost a year after the letter was sent, that Eddie's father emerged from the darkness. Wayne was about to kick him out of the house when Eddie walked in. The happiness of seeing his father again spoke louder than the anger of being left alone for a year, louder than all the pain from before.

His father stayed for a week, and even if Eddie's wrist was a little bruised from that one time he almost opened a bag he wasn't supposed to touch, the boy was happy.

He stayed for a week. And then he never came back again.

1978

You saw Eddie cry for the first time when your teacher suggested a father's day project. He had tears silently streaming down his face before he even realized it, you dragged him out of class before anyone could see and make fun of it. He bunched your shirt in his fists and soaked it in tears in the hallway.

From your insistence, Eddie made his gift for Wayne. That was also the first time you saw his uncle cry.

1979

Eddie formed a band with his new friends. You're sneaking into the cheerleading practice.

You don't miss a single one of his band's rehearsals. Eddie distracts the gym teacher for you and tells you to join the cheer team when you get to high school.

1980

You and Wayne put together enough money to buy the burgundy guitar that Eddie had been drooling over for months now.

Eddie gives you your first kiss. It tasted like ice cream, under the sun of a hot summer day and the low tune of I Was Made For Lovin' You playing on Wayne's car. You both laughed afterward, fingers all sticky and cheeks all hot and skin tingling even after you got home.

1981

You and Eddie have your first big fight after he insulted the basketball players. You had just made the cheerleading team; the rumors were already going around about the new girl who was friends with the troublemaker.

Later that day you found Eddie sulking at the lonely picnic table in the woods. You made up; with a bag of his favorite snacks and a cuddle session you never spoke about afterward. A weird weight sits in the air between you after that.

1982, January

A boy asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn't Eddie. You said yes, because it felt exciting, and your new friends said he was the cutest boy in your class.

Your new boyfriend doesn't like Eddie, calls him a weirdo and a freak. The word has a bitter taste, you hate it. But Eddie's all black leather jackets, metal music, and long hair now; and you're all soft pink lipstick, plush cheer pom poms, and weekend partying now. You never tell your boyfriend or your cheerleading friends otherwise, even though you should.

Eddie doesn't like your new boyfriend. He says he's just a stuck-up jock and you can do much better. You don't ask him who would be the better option, even though you want to.

Eddie doesn't sit with you in the cafeteria anymore, he settles for a halfhearted nod whenever you smile his way. He does still give you a ride home and lets you in his room to hear him practice guitar though. It's like he's two different people inside and outside of school.

1982, August

Days in which you don't speak to Eddie at all are starting to become a new normal.

Eddie thinks you see him the same way everyone else does now. A freak, someone to coil away from in disgust. Of all people, you were the last one he expected would do this. Maybe that's why it was so painful. He feels betrayed, so he wears his armor around the person who's seen him in his most vulnerable more than once. It feels wrong. But that's all he knows.

You think Eddie is being petty. You think it's unfair that he can't accept your new friends, that he doesn't want you to hang out with other people or have a boyfriend who just so happens to play in the school's team. You can't help but think that the insults he throws at them, are meant for you too.

You two don't talk much anymore; except for birthday wishes and the few nights you go to watch him play at The Hideout.

Eddie doesn't tell you that he'd never say a single bad thing about you. Not you. Never you.

You don't tell him that he could never be anything other than the sweet boy with chocolate eyes for you.

1984

Eddie is more of a stranger than a friend.

It's foolish, because it's hurting both of you.

You graduated and he got held back, it didn't make much of a difference, you haven't spoken to each other in more than a year.

1986, March

"We have also identified a person of interest. Eddie Munson. We encourage anyone with information to please come forward."

Your spoonful of cereal stopped midway before reaching your mouth as you heard the voice of the chief of police on your television, saying the name of the person who once used to share all his secrets with you, and blaming him for fucking murders.

Before you register what you were doing, you were already dialing Eddie's phone number, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest every time the line rang and no one picked up. When you slammed the phone back on your wall, you felt sick to your stomach, almost puking the little bit of the cereal you managed to eat.

No one knew where Eddie was. You searched, even if you were probably the last person he wanted to see.

Only a couple weeks later, after the earthquakes, after Eddie's name was cleared, you finally had a glimpse of him. From far away you saw bandages on his exposed skin — you wondered what happened, part of you wanted to run to him — and even so, he was carrying a cardboard box over to the gymnasium, helping those who lost their homes in the destruction.

For the first time then, you could breathe again, knowing he was okay. Despite it all, Eddie would always have a piece of your heart.

1986, November

"Absolutely not," you said with an edge on your tone, carrying a stack of freshly returned movies in your arms as you walked around the counter to put them back in place.

Monday's were definitely the slowest day in Family Video, usually, the only thing happening was customers returning the movies from the weekend.

"Y/N please, I've already talked to Keith and after pretty much I and Robin begged on our knees, he agreed to it," Steve tailed behind you, the red neon sign on the back wall shining against his cinnamon hair and green vest, "under the one condition of you watching him for the first days, that's all I'm asking and I'll make it up to you I promise." He finished with a plead, clasping his hands together and giving you his best puppy eyes.

You groaned, leaning back against one of the movie posters on the wall, you did always have a weakness for a pretty boy with brown eyes, "Stevie, it's not that I don't want to help, I just have a lot on my plate already, with the arcade and here." It was true, because you happened to be Keith's cousin, you were the one he trusted most to overlook both places while he was absent, which honestly, was most days. But you didn't tell Steve that he was asking you to watch over the same boy who counted stars with you on an empty lot of the trailer park, the same boy who left a hole in your heart that was yet to be filled. It was all kinds of messy and all kinds of complicated and, of course, it was just your luck that your friends — and coworkers — were now also besties with him. But no one needed to know that, whatever it was that happened between you and Eddie, belongs in the past.

"I know, listen, I know. But Robin and I are gonna help however we can-"

"Why can't one of you do it, anyway?"

Steve huffed, placing one hand on his waist, "some bullshit about how our judgment won't be fair because we're friends, you know how Keith is with these things." He chewed on the side of his cheek for a second, weighing his words, "listen he- Eddie, he's been through a lot, and now that he finally managed to graduate he needs a stable job and… with his history, you can imagine how just about no one will hire."

The wound was still fresh in most of Hawkins, the murders, the false accusations that just about doomed the poor boy, plus the town was still rebuilding, still healing; Steve talks about it as if you didn't know, as if you hadn't seen and worried first hand about it. You don't let it show on your face how much his words freeze your insides.

"This fucking town," you grumbled.

Steve snorted, "tell me about it."

You nag on your bottom lip with your teeth, almost drawing blood. Your stomach is twisting and turning, you're in front of a crossroad and with no idea in which way to turn. But regardless of the road you take, you know it'll be a path you can't walk back from.

Somehow, you think, you've probably made your decision as soon as Steve first asked you. He's right, Eddie has already suffered way too much. You know he won't be happy to see you, let alone work with you, and you're not thrilled about it either. But you made a promise long ago that you intend on keeping.

"Alright, whatever, I'll do it." Damn you and your soft heart.

⋆*☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read Part 2 here

Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie

@loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280 @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading @murnsondock

[lookismaddict]

My First Dream with Hudson Ahn 🧡 (One-Shot 🔞)

NSFW WARNING: This is basically a dirty one-shot at this point. So, be careful when you read this.💀

Bro, I took a nap a few days ago, and I almost forgot where I was when I woke up. But for the first time, tell me why… I didn’t have a dream about Gun this time. I had a dream of… HUDSON… MF… AHN???? BRUHH IM SCREAMIN!!!! EVEN I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. But just imagine, Hudson looking a bit older and matured. He still had that blonde hairstyle, but he had a bit of stubble on his chin and on his upper lip. IG you could say, he got a mustache-beard thing going on for not shaving. Reminds me a bit of Taesoo Ma… (Omg he’s following his teacher’s footsteps. 🤭) Imma be putting this in 2nd-person POV, as if you’re in it. I hope you don’t mind. Also, it’ll get dirty later on so bear with me. 😩✨ (He's so underrated man.)

On a cold chilly day outside, you were being chased around the neighborhood by a group of teenagers whom you have messed with after telling them off for smoking at a young age. They all looked scary and they resembled thugs, wearing black hoodies and masks to cover their faces while carrying steel bats in their hands. Up above, the sun began to set as the sky was starting to turn a mixed shade of golden yellow, red, and pink, initiating the transition from day to night.

While running around the neighborhood, you turned into a sharp corner then ran up to a house’s driveway, since there were a lot of big cars parked in front of it. The closest cars that you’ve hid behind was the newest version of a white Toyota Sequoia, and a tinted black Mercedes van parked parallel behind it. You needed a place to hide temporarily, so you felt for the door handles and tried to see if they were open. Trying the Mercedes first, it didn’t budge at all, so you made your way to the Toyota Sequoia. As if God was on your side, the door managed to open, in which you immediately hopped inside without any hesitation whatsoever. You didn’t think twice about how the car was left unlocked, but you didn’t care at all. You just needed a place to stay clear from those kids. The first thing you did, was locked every door from the inside to make sure that your hiding spot was safe and secured. You manually switched each lock on the doors, including the driver’s seat, the passenger’s seat beside it, and the two back doors. After doing so, you huddled in the corner of the right backseat and peeked out the window a few times. However, on your third peek, you caught one of the delinquents running and stopping in front of the car that you were in. You felt the need to close your eyes and cover your mouth to minimize any sound of breathing from revealing your hiding spot, regardless of you being inside the car. You didn’t want to take any chances of endangering yourself. Although you were trying so hard not to make any noises, you weren’t aware… that the windows weren’t tinted in this car. Only the Mercedes was.

When the kid’s eyes scanned his surroundings for a few seconds, his eyes then spotted the back of your head, that was peeking a bit through the window. The teenager snickered from behind the mask, and came closer towards the car you were staying in. As he dragged his steel baseball bat on the pavement, your body shook anxiously as the sound of that long metal scraping against the cement drove you into peak nervousness. Once you heard the dragging stopped. You waited by counting in your head, until the number lands on 100. 1… 2… 3… Right when you reached your last 100… You gave one heavy sigh before slowly turning around. Consequently, you didn’t expect to meet eye contact with the intimidating teenager, as he started to bash the side of the car aggressively. You ducked onto the floor of the car and hugged yourself, sobbing while scared out of your wits. Lost in the terrifying ruckus of chaos, you suddenly heard a new voice yell from outside of the car.

“HEY, KID! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAR?!”

The shady teen immediately dropped his weapon, and ran off, leaving you in that car unharmed but shaking in fear. From inside the car, you heard the loud ping of the bat hitting the floor, which made you curious for only a second until your mind reverted back to staying cautious, without having to check to see who it was. Although you were sitting below the seats, you saw a shadowy silhouette on the car floor, of someone creeping closer to the car. You heard the person tug at the driver seat’s door handle, and heard knocking on the door saying, “Hey, I know you’re in there! This is the owner of the car!! Whoever you are, you better open the door right now, or else I’ll have no choice but to force you out!!!” You remembered that this wasn’t your car in the first place and, by doing the right thing, you decided to unlock the door in front of you and open it.

When reaching over to unlock the door in front of you, you pulled on the latch to open the door. And as you pushed the door open, everything moved in slow motion. A tall handsome blonde with a bit of stubble who was wearing a long black coat with light brown fur surrounding his collar and front, revealed himself from outside of the door. As your eyes locked with each other, his eyes widened at the sight of you sitting on the floor, sobbing. In shock, he asked in concern, “(Y/N), is that you??? What happened?!” He immediately got in the car and shut the door behind him, locking it afterwards. You wiped your eyes, embarrassed at how feeble you looked before him, allowing him to help you up from the floor. He scooped you up into his arms, and embraced you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder to take in your sweet scent. You shifted your face towards him, baffled at how close your face was to his.

“H-Hudson?! What are you-”

“Just let me stay like this for a while.”

“Hold on, I need to check to see if they’re all gone first!”

As you leaned closer to the foggy window, you wiped a part of the glass to check outside to see if the coast was clear. While checking, however, you felt his arms surround your waist then pulled you onto his lap to force you to look at him. His eyes gazed into yours fiercely, with a serious look on his face. The glint in his intense eyes were starting to scare you, causing you to try and push away from him. Hudson kept you on him, with his hands holding onto your hips firmly, not daring to let you go. Finally, you gave into his strength, which resulted in you asking him, “Why are you doing this?” Hudson maintained his gaze on you as you suddenly felt one of his hands sneak its way underneath your top, caressing your warm back with his cool hand. You gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on your back, which made you flinch at his unexpectedly chilling touch. “I haven’t heard from you in days. No phone calls…” You witnessed his face drew closer onto your neck then felt his lips skim over your soft skin, leaving cool kisses down your neck. Earning a slight moan from you, you clasped your hand onto your mouth right away, afraid that someone passing by outside might hear you. “No text messages…” The feeling of his hot breath tickling your neck made you shiver to the core, as if your body was starting to react longingly to his touches. Hudson drew his head back to take a long glimpse at your eyes again, now staring back at him helplessly while you were panting in aching infatuation. The facial expression on his face remained indifferent, still peering at you spitefully. “How can you do this to your own boyfriend? Making me wait for you to come back to me. Yet somehow, you actually did…” You felt one of his hands release your back, coming to cup one of your cheeks into his hand tenderly. Staring into your glistening eyes due to the golden rays of the sunset, his gaze resulted in a glint of loneliness. He spoke in a low whisper, saying earnestly, “I don’t care if you came here unwillingly or not. As long as you’re here beside me, then that’s all that matters. But if you’re still mad at me because of that argument we had last week, then I’m sorry. I can’t bear to lose you. You really had no idea how much I missed you…” His face closed in on you, until his lips converged with yours. The way your soft lips pressed against his made him yearn for more, suddenly feeling his hand from behind your back to unclip your bra, and his other hand gliding down your pants to feel your heated private. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth, now feeling his fingers pleasure you from underneath. Pulling away from his lips, you asked in a shaky breath, “W-what… Hah… are you… Hngh- trying to… do…?” A hint of lust from him bored into your gem-like eyes, as he warned dangerously, “Your boyfriend hasn’t gotten an apology yet, even though he already apologized on his end. Shouldn’t you do the same too?” His hand prompted to play with your clit, rubbing it in circles, as if he knew how to make your body react to him perfectly. While still clinging onto his neck, you arched your back in bliss, spewing pleased sighs that he loved so much. The hand that was still on your back pulled your bra off, in which you released your arms from his neck for a brief moment to drop your bra onto the floor, only to return around him once more. While mewling in front of him due to how he was pleasing you with his blessed hand, a playful smile formed on his face, saying in a teasing manner, “Look at my girl, all turned on in front of me. You can’t say it, huh? Did you miss me, when I used to touch you like this?” Without warning, his fingers transferred onto your wet folds, massaging them and gaining light whimpers from you. He was just warming his fingers up, ready to penetrate your tight insides with his digits. Feeling his fingers insert themselves into you, you cried out in euphoria as your arms then embraced his entire body tightly, with your head currently burying deep onto his shoulder.

Satisfied by your reactions to him so far, he cooed into your ear, “Oh, you have no idea how much I wanted to see you again. Your face, your body... God, even those sounds that I loved hearing so much... I missed all of that. I know that we haven't done this in a while. I just wanted to show you how much I longed to see you, my sweet girl~" Hudson pumped his fingers into you, making you whine under his touch. Every erotic wail that emitted from your pretty mouth was like music to his ears. It's an addictive song that he'd love to listen to everyday, if he could. He wanted to hear more of those beautiful whimpers of yours, and his eyes craved the sight of your naked body on him again. You eyed him warily, as his free hand grasped the hem of your sweater to pull it up. However, you immediately gripped his wrist and asked him dubiously, "W-what if... people s-see us... doing this...? Hudson stopped pleasuring you altogether, then carefully took out his hand from within your heat. His head turned to his side to view the window next to him, curiously. Darkness was already creeping into the car with shadows shrouding half of his handsome face. Assuringly, he stated, "You don't have to worry about other people seeing us. The sky is getting dark anyways, and it's about time that many people would rather just stay at home when night falls. Besides..." Once he felt your hand released his wrist, he speedily took your hand in his, then brought the back of your hand onto his lips. Kissing it ever so gingerly, he murmured charmingly, "We can go all out. Right here, right now. Unless, you want to take the main event back to my place..." Almost right on cue, you felt your face flushed heatedly, bright red like a cherry tomato. Hudson chuckled at your adorable reaction, gently setting your hand down onto your side. For some reason, you had a feeling that the place where his car was parked at right now, wasn't even his actual home. In return, you shyly avoided his gaze then replied with, "It would be nice, if... we could... share a bigger space... with just the two of us..." It didn't take long for Hudson to understand your wish. With a mellow kiss on your forehead, he gave an apprehensive nod, then answered back. "Of course princess, anything for you. But first, do this one thing for me. Please, I can't take it any longer. I've been dying to see you without clothes again. You're just so beautiful, I can't help but get that picture of you out of my head, while you were away. I'm sorry..." With a sympathetic glance at his eyes, you couldn't help but give into him. Even though you had no clue at what argument he was talking about, you ended up blurting out an unexpected, "I'm sorry, as well... I didn't mean to upset you from what I had done or said to you... I hope you can forgive me too..." You saw his eyes expand in surprise at your apology, then dilated affectionately at your wholesome kindness. At that moment, he thought, how could I be so lucky? Having such a compassionate girlfriend who's willing to go back and beyond for him, for as important as an apology, made him admire you in awe. Eagerly without saying a word, he resumed to help you strip out of every piece of clothing you had on, persistently wanting to inspect every inch of your exposed body. Every curve, every blemish you had, and every scar displayed on you, he wanted to see ALL of you for himself. Selfish as it may be, he knew it all far too well. It was a familiar feeling when it came to you, and it was the only time that he's allowed to be selfish.

Usually, he'd be out and about, protecting the streets of Ansan. It is his responsibility to uphold such an important position as the leader of Ansan Public, and to carry out his master, Taesoo Ma's, will of defending Ansan. Included in his responsibilities, he had an even bigger role of filling in as a crew member for Daniel Park's Allied Crew ever since he had asked him to join. Hudson believed that the work he had was truly exhausting, but it was his duty to fulfill them in the first place. He HAD to do it, or else... who would? As the last of your panties slid down your silky smooth legs and was tossed aside onto the floor by him, his eyes scanned your delicate figure in front of him. Sitting on his lap like that naked, sparked a sense of fiery passion inside of him. His eyes traveled down your entire body. From your captivating eyes, to your lovely lips, to your spotless neck, to your uncovered breasts, to your smooth stomach, to your heat that was also now bare for him to observe... Your exposed self lit up a burning desire underneath his pants, which led him to clench his teeth in sexual frustration due to how swollen his own private had gotten. You could even feel his boner too, poking onto your wet heat from beneath his pants. Blushing a small tint of red on his caricature, he reluctantly looked down at his own sex then proceeded to unbuckle his own belt and unbutton his pants. Once he successfully done so, he unzipped them with ease. Before taking them off entirely, he asked, "Babe, can you help remove them for me?" Little did he know, you'd actually offer to help him out of his pants regardless if he asked you to or not. Meticulously, you got off his lap then helped him out of his pants, gripping onto the sides and sliding them down. Pushing them down himself, he watched you remove every pant leg off of him. Watching them slither off of each leg made your heart beat rapidly inside your chest, fully anticipating the reveal of his hard member. Your core was already pulsating as well, at how excited he had gotten you. His private hasn't been put on display yet, and you're already thirsting to get a hold of him. Hudson could definitely feel the sexual tension between you and himself, with your eyes seething with temptation, while his exhibited restlessness to give you what you've been pining for. His eyes observed you, finally trailing his hands down onto his briefs to take them off. Attentively, you watched as he stripped them off, displaying his entire length. It was definitely at a length that was considered to be “above average”. His phallus was pretty, having slight veins running down the side of his erection and his tip was a pale pink color. His balls were also a sight to behold as well, visibly big and bulging. Granted that he had such a beautiful shaft, there was a bit of hair on his manhood, since he decided not to shave. He really didn’t expect to run into you like this, especially when matters took an unexpected turn for such a hot and heavy scenario.

“(Y/N), come closer. I know that we haven’t done this for quite some time now, and I get it. But, I need you to please me like how you usually do. Can you do that for me?”

Kneeling down on your knees in front of his stiffness, there was no sense of indecision in your lust-filled eyes when you looked up at him with a strong impression of determination. You didn’t want to let him down, so you tried your best to make him feel good as best as you can. Widely, your mouth opened and took in his throbbing tip. Hudson groaned at the feeling of you starting to suck on his head, tongue swirling and all. “Mmm, fuck…” He cursed lightly under his breath, marveling at the scenery of you basically worshipping his cock beneath him. You played around with his rock hard manhood, getting into the rhythm of how things were supposed to go, transitioning to drag your tongue all over his length. From his balls, to his peachy tip, he felt the wetness of your saliva and your hot breath grazing his cock as if your thirst was surrounding him. Not to mention, those eyes… he thought, were just filled with jaded carnality. Hungry eyes, that were dangerously bewitching. The eyes that belonged to a hungry fox, whose been dying to devour him just like how he’d been yearning the same for you. The similar amount of passion that you had compared to him, made his mind go feral for you. His one and only girl, whose innocence had ceased ever since he had seduced you once more in this very car. It somehow made him relieved to see you like this, only thirsting for him. In all honesty, he became worried about how your perception of him might’ve changed because of that little argument you had with him. Is she still upset with me? What if she’s been searching for someone else? Has she gotten tired of me? Did I not fulfill my role as her loving boyfriend? Have I not been spending enough time with her? The jittery thoughts that he had were starting to eat away at him over the past few days. However, he currently doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. No, not a single thing. The only thing that’s important to him now was that you’re here with him. This was already proof enough that you still loved him, since you would’ve already fought your way out of this car if you still held a grudge against him. Just the way you were pleasuring him had helped regain his confidence back, which reassured him that everything will be fine.

Continuing with your naughty blowjob on him, your mouth encompassed him again, but this time your concave sank down onto his cock. While breathing in through your nose, you took in every inch into your mouth cautiously, along with his manly musk from his hardness that made your core throb in excitement. By being the disciplined girl that you are, your eyes began to water due to how huge he felt inside of your moist passageway, sliding down into your throat. The way your eyes were tearing up because of how huge he was, was like a symbolic compliment to him, that only you could give him. With his clean hand, he ardently wiped away the moisture from your eyes to help clear your vision for you. As you felt his solid tip hit the back of your throat, you did not waste any time with the marvelous head you were giving him. You pumped his thick shaft while slurping him up and crashing your lips down onto his balls, creating this nasty symphonic play on sounds that filled the car. Hudson’s breathing hitched, groaning every time you massaged his cock with your talented mouth. With one of his hands, he pushed your silky hair back by combing his fingers through your hair delicately from the top of your scalp, all the way down to the tips of your hair. His eyes wanted to feast at the view of you devouring him even further. He rested his hand on top of your head, giving you encouraging head pats then said adoringly, “Hah… (Y/N), I really missed you. Including your mouth. You’re just so good at giving me head. It always makes me wonder how did I even afford to love someone, as breathtaking as you?” Alongside your sloppy top, you moaned onto his cock, while blowing him up and down. His compliments got you even more turned on than before, wanting him to praise you even more for the service that you’re giving him. Your eyes took a glance at his handsome face, watching him fall deeper into untamed corruption. His sexy grunts made you overjoyed at how well you were satisfying him, earning a small smile on your lips while sucking on his dick. You wanted to lose yourself more to him, and him to give himself in to you as well. The thoughts of wanting to please each other so desperately made this all too good to be true. Hudson felt his own cock twitch at how close he was to his climax, sliding his hand down to the back of your head. “Keep going princess, you’re almost there. You’re doing so well, don’t stop…” Your mouth picked up the pace, trying to catch his high until finally, you felt his dick burst into your mouth with a crazy explosion. His ejaculation was immaculate, which caused you to close your eyes, taking in the delicious taste of his cum on your tastebuds. Giving a huge gulp, you felt his sperm ooze down your throat, all the way to your stomach. When he came down your throat he grunted heavily, looking down at your mouth overflowing through its corners with his own milky seed, and watched you swallow his fresh milk down your throat. If only his own kids would’ve been pumped into you the other way around…

Hudson’s mind spiraled down into a complete mess. As he observed you releasing his dick from your mouth, you gasped for air, trying to recover yourself from all the work you just did from sucking him off. It was no easy feat, but you still got the job done somehow. However, while trying to regain your strength back, you felt him grab you by the underarms and hoisted you up like a doll. Eyes widened in bewilderment for his sudden carry, as he placed you on his lap, right where your womanhood pressed against his warm ramrod. His powerful glance made your whole body weak, sending shivers down your spine from his intimidating libido. When your eyes inadvertently avoided his eyes bashfully, he grasped your chin tightly, compelling you to stare into his sensually dark eyes. Staring at his attractive features, you took the time to observe him.

“You want me too… don’t you?”

Hudson licked his lips seductively before drawing his face closer to your neck, then dove onto your skin, nibbling onto you until he decided to press on a spot to suck on. He loved kissing your neck every time, since he knew that was one of your weak spots. Unlike the previous times that he remembered having sex with you, this time was a bit different. For some unknown reason, he felt the urge to dominate you. To make you his, as much as possible. Even though this was clearly make-up sex for the both of you, he couldn’t resist his insatiable hunger for you. He tried to keep himself intact by treating you right. Giving you gentle kisses, and by taking things slow. But this time… how come he can’t do it? It was like something was possessing him to change. Was this a guilty pleasure of his that he just discovered for himself, only today? While sucking on your neck, your hands brushed against his strong muscular biceps then landed on his shoulders, attaining lewd whimpers out of you during your marking. Unconsciously, you grind your kitty onto his dick and threw your head back slightly, calling out his name.

“Hu… Hud- … son~!”

In response, Hudson’s eyes enlarged at the sound of your succulent voice, moaning his name out for him in that broken tone. He was taken aback since he had never heard you call out his name like that before, but the sound of your voice was as if his name was meant to be called out by you. It felt perfect to the ears. In addition to this, the way you were working your hips onto him was making him go insane. Was this really you? He didn’t want to think of how his favorite girl was now turning into his personal slave, since he didn’t want to lose himself to such sinful thoughts. Yet, just the thought of it brought him to the intense arousal that he’s currently feeling through his dick. Damn it. This is making me go crazy, he thought. Feeling the friction of your drenched pussy on his member, resulted in him to hum in delight. At last, his lips parted from your neck to stare down at the hickey he just created, commemorating himself for the lovely mark that represented you belonging to him. Listening to you sighing in need, Hudson studied your face in fixation. The way you’re working yourself onto him, provoking him to shove his own cock inside of you, made him huff in defeat.

“Forgive me, (Y/N). I don’t think I can last another minute if I don’t feel you right now. You’re making me go insane here. I can’t resist. Fuuuck…”

Immediately, he grabbed onto his girth and positioned himself upwards. You lifted yourself up by utilizing his shoulders for support, to hover over his phallic sex organ. While doing so, you sensed his crown rubbing against your slick, making you cry out in urgency. Teetering, you rocked your hips to match the movements of his rubbing, as you begged erotically, “Please Hudson, put it inside me! I can’t take it anymore… I need you right now~” Hudson gave a baffled scoff at your reaction to his tease, replying with, “If only you could see yourself through a mirror, then you’ll know what you’ve been doing to me. I should punish you, naughty girl…” Consequently, he gave in to his wicked desires, wanting to display his authority over you as your possessive boyfriend. A glimpse of dominion clouded his eyes, as he suddenly told you to, “Hold my dick upright for me.” You knew what was about to happen, and as eager as you were, you obeyed him willingly. Your hand felt for his solid shaft then held onto it upright. But what you didn’t predict, was how Hudson wrapped his bulky arms around both of your legs to spread them in front of him and lift you up above him.

In a deep husky voice, he asked “Are you ready?”

You gave a nod of approval, watching him intuitively, plunging you down onto his cock beneath the both of you. The top part of his cock slid right in with ease into your soaking cunt, winning an instinctive whine of gratification from you while letting go of his manhood, that was already in the process of stretching your insides. Your eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure, in which you bit your bottom lip in rapture from how good he was penetrating your tight pussy. “Ahhh~!!” was all Hudson could hear, as he lowered your whole entire body down onto him. Simultaneously, he groaned in aphrodisia, enthralled by the sensation of his own thickness being squeezed by your own saturated tightness. Also loving the sobs that you were broadcasting in the car, he just noticed how small you were compared to him, since he could lift your dainty body up so easily. He wasn’t sure if it was the size difference between you two, but he found that hidden detail to be quite attractive and enticing. Right when he bottomed out, you felt his stiffness poke your cervix, achieving a pleased sigh from the both of you at the same time.

“Go ahead and ride me, princess. If you want it that badly, then you gotta earn it. Remember, I’m punishing you~”

You then tilted your head down to look at him with puppy-dog eyes, which resulted in him to laugh at how cute you are. After releasing your legs onto his sides, he smoothed out your hair from the top of your head soothingly, grinning at you in mischief.

“No, that won’t work on me this time. Sorry babe.”

At this stage, you really had no choice. Feeling subjugated, you raised your hips all the way up, to the point where his head was the only part of his dick that was still buried into your squelching pussy. Hudson released a hot, “Ugghhh... Shit (Y/N), you’re so tight…" feeling his manhood gliding from your deep soaking heat. You decided to have a little fun with him yourself, as you held your position up there, with your ass hanging in the air. Meanwhile, a smirk shaped itself on your face and your eyes gleamed sensually. Underneath the darkness, the moon rose up in the sky. Silver moonlight reigned down onto your exposed body through the glass window of the car, radiating this ravishing luminescent aura from you. Hudson was mesmerized by your hypnotizing movements underneath the moonlight, swaying your hips back and forth as if you're giving him a lap dance, still connected to you. You kept your tantalizing eyes on him, without glancing at the biker passing by the car for only a few seconds or the cars that drove by without caring about your business with him inside that little space. You didn't care anymore if the two of you get caught at all. It was you and him, alone in the dark together, with your bodies being the only source of warmth for each other. As you continued to tease him, you leaned close to his left ear then gave one long lick on his earlobe then nibbled on him, causing his entire face to heat up under the outline of the streetlights outside of the vehicle. Close to his ear, you could hear his breathing getting heavier, trying to control his composure in front of you, resisting your temptation. You decided to transition to his neck, now shifting your lips on his jaw. Kissing down on him, you heard him groan at your sultry affection. Synchronously, you felt one of his hands gripped one of your voluptuous ass cheeks, while his other hand grabbed onto the back of your head and pulled you away from his neck to separate your lips from him. Your gaze was now fixated on his eyes that were now covered in sexual hostility. Burning deep into your pupils, he brought your face close to his, now staring at you with foreign harshness.

Ominously, he gave you a warning saying, “You better stop playing with me or else you’re going to regret it.”

Hudson let his horniness control his actions now, as he released your head from behind then landed on your other ass cheek with a smack, gaining a yelp of sharp pain to flow through your body. Both of his hands seized your ass solidly, and with one powerful pull, your pussy hammered down onto him by swallowing his whole entire length again. You arched your back in contentment, loving the sensation of him taking control of your body for only a brief moment.

"Ride me."

The demand he just gave you made your cunt flutter inside of you, earning a gruntled mumble at how your sticky walls were beating around him. "Do it now, you slut."

Oh, he had no idea how his harsh words had turned you on so much. You abided to his will, giving him what he wanted all along. Repeatedly, you rode him like there's no tomorrow. With your hands still placed on his shoulders, you pulled yourself up and slammed your divine womanhood onto his love-stick, which made the both of you huff and puff. Exchanging heavy exhales of decadence, both pairs of eyes locked onto one another in gluttony. Having the great urge to wrap your arms around his neck, you moaned out his name multiple times like you were reciting a chanting saying, "Ahhh~ Hudson... Ohhh~ Hudson... Hu-Hud... son~!!!"

While watching you dip yourself down onto his shaft, the filthy sloshing sounds of your walls gripping onto his sex organ turned Hudson's mind into a beastly state, only focusing on the magnitude of pleasure gathering inside him. Every time you became drunk with every pierce of his dick hitting your g-spot, he snickered at your drooling facial expression, saying, "Your mind has been corrupted, love. Does my cock inside you really make you feel that good?" One of his hands retreated from your ass to hold your face by your bottom jaw. A flash of devious intent was presented on his caricature, while you maintained your bounces on him. Adventurously, his experimental side divulged, which led him to degrade you even more.

“Goddamn… The way you were toying with me not too long ago, you were getting a good kick out of it, weren’t you? You sly hustler...”

You felt one of his hands snaked its way up towards your back. His fingers caressed your spine ever so slightly, making you shiver while you kept on pleasuring him with your cunt. When his hand pressed against your upper back, he pulled you in closer to him, as your chest was now pressed against his. You felt the warmth of his body heat emanating from him, even though his upper body was still fully clothed. The scent of his manly cologne from his clothing made you sigh in intoxication, taking in his attractive scent while your own arms wrapped around him even more, trailing your fingers through his blonde tresses from the nape of his neck.

“You’re getting a little greedy there, my love. Wouldn’t it be nice if we experimented with each other like this, for a while? I want to see what I can do to you, now that you’re acting like my favorite little slut~”

You felt his hand from your back travel to the front of your breast, which made your body tingle with goosebumps. When Hudson’s hand held one of your bouncy breasts, he groped it in his hand then started to massage it gently, leading you to moan in his ear in jubilation. Reacting to his stimulation of another sweet spot on your body, your pussy began to pulsate in rapture, causing it to excrete more lewd juices from how aroused he got you. Your body was now in his control, which caused his mind to flood with many of his desires. The thought of getting nasty for each other, was an act of strong and devoted loyalty to him. You really are HIS, and he’d be willing to do anything and everything to make your mind and body remember. By kissing you, licking you, and touching you… he’d do all of that for his one and only princess. The love of his life. He’d give you a hundred kisses or more on your body for you to forgive him, if you asked him to. That was just his way of showing how much he loved you, and how he wasn’t willing to let you go… Ever.

Witnessing you crumble from his groping and how his cock was hitting your cervix every time your drenched heat collapsed onto his member, made him feel a sense of superiority over you. He was unsure if he should feel guilty for treating you differently than usual, but from his perspective, it seems like you were enjoying it. A little TOO much, if you asked him. Your arms wrapped around him and your body pressed up against his was your way of not ever wanting to let him go. Even the connection of your two body parts colliding with one another, drowning in the tunes of sinful juicy elation made you and Hudson feel extreme lechery for each other. Although this was the case, he kept going with his pleasing, now beginning to swirl his thumb onto your nipple, giving it a few flicks here and there. By getting a good reaction out of you, you jolted from the sudden feeling, like electricity shot right through you in a flash. You heaved, breathing out in a tremor, “Hud- … s-son~!!!” Your trembling voice really was his weakness. It was like energy had restored in his body, giving him this extra sense of adrenaline. His touches became rougher, as he started to pinch and pull on your nipple, stealing cries out from your lungs while your sloppy dribbles on his cock got messier by the minute. Hudson’s member even restored its solidity, in which you felt him enlarge and expand your cramped walls even more, stretching them out to its full capacity. As he viewed your disheveled self, he believed that he was looking at a moon goddess. Bathing under the lunar’s dazzling shine, your exposed body was really a sight to behold. Those twinkling rain-drop eyes focused only on his own dark obsidian gems… Those rosy cheeks visible, even when surrounded by darkness… Those soft lips that are far heavenly than anyone could ever imagine… Those curves on your perfect body as if carved in exquisite detail for a commissioned Renaissance statue… Everything about you that he was scanning for himself, were all his. You were all his.

Hudson wanted to praise you even more, for being so divine. Knowing that someone, as stunning as you, who’s been rocked to the core from his own will gets him very turned on. Still vocalizing sexy whimpers from his vivacious plays on your nipple, Hudson’s face drew closer towards your own, until he stopped a few centimeters away from yours. Feeling your panting breath on him, he gave you an order that you wouldn’t think twice about doing.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, my dear slut.”

Almost immediately, you gladly obeyed him, watching his face magnetize towards you. In an instant, his eyes changed to a very primal gleam, indicating that he was about to turn it up a notch. Seeing that you have done what you were told to do, he opened his mouth slightly too, and pulled himself into you for a very heated kiss. His tongue brushed against your tongue mildly at first, until he decided to assert his dominance by roughly pressing his lips to yours and by pushing his tongue deeper into your cavity to explore your mouth. The sucking of your tongues, along with the feverish moans that escaped your mouth with your “Ahhn~” and your “Mmm~” ‘s caused him to pinch on your nipple more. You were already a moaning disaster, yet Hudson’s domineering character decided to shove his free hand down your private and fiddle with your clit, making you sob in desperation for a release. Tears started to stream down your face because of the unbearable amount of pleasure that he was giving you. From his beastly cock, to his talented hands, you were all set for the most intense orgasm of your life.

Already edging in on your climax, Hudson felt your sex ringing around him, spasming out like it was about to burst any minute. Groaning into your mouth erotically, his kiss for you deepened, still wanting more of that sweet taste of your tongue on him. The claps of your ass landing on his groin stayed consistent, not allowing yourself to stop rebounding on his thickness until his tip manages to properly bruise and hurt your insides, especially your cervix. Your arms that were clutched around him loosened, slipping your hands down his broad and muscular back, feeling every muscle that seemed to have made you even wetter than before.

Everything in this setting felt like a fever dream. You and Hudson were unaware that all of the car’s windows were more fogged up than before due to the excessive body heat and air that was being exhaled from the both of you. On top of that, the both of you were ignorant to the fact that the car had been rocking back and forth violently for about two hours now. Even some civilians who were passing by, noticed the creaking car and would point it out in awe.

“Mommy, why is that car moving?”

“L-let’s just keep walking son, there’s nothing to see there…”

Little did those bystanders know, an eventful occasion of sin was taking place inside that car. Hands grabbing, mouths clashing, bodies grinding… It was definitely a sporadic phenomenon to witness.

Within the car, Hudson’s lips parted from yours, since he craved to hear those addictive noises that he loved hearing you announce for him, being the only one to hear them. At that moment, you were screaming at the top of your lungs over the euphoric feeling of ecstasy, clawing onto his jacked trapezius through his coat, trying to find comfort in him for you to ease into your orgasm. He too, was almost at the point of ejecting his own release. Sensing that he’s almost there because of his swelling manhood, his eyes turned to you in preparation for the both of you to release at the same time.

Panting, you wailed in fervor, “Hudson… Hah… I’m… g-going to… cum~!”

Hudson gave the final line, saying in a deep sultry voice, “Cum for me, my dirty little whore~”

On one final snap of your hips, your legs gave up on you as your body fell onto his meaty dick due to your last breath of the little amount of stamina you had left in your body. At long last, your pussy convulsed around his stiff cock, gripping onto it with dire need for his semen to release simultaneously with you. When your muscle contractions released, your vaginal juices squirted right on his hard wood, causing you to scream his name out saying, “Hudson~!!!!” Alongside you, his member felt your walls clamp around his throbbing sex, forcing him to shoot his load into you which led to your uterus expanding in volume. Coating every crevice inside of your tight vaginal muscle with his own thick milky cum, you and Hudson both shuddered from the resolution of your climaxes. While still trying to regain oxygen into your lungs, Hudson proudly kissed your forehead after wrapping his arms around you tightly while the two of remained connected in body underneath.

In adoration, he said impressed, “You did so good, (Y/N). I didn’t think that you’d have a dirty side to you like this. You had me in awe…”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the remembrance of how shameless you were with your actions during your intimacy with Hudson. However, he reassured you by giving your lips a small peck before burying his own head in the crook of your neck while cradling you in his arms lovingly. Sighing, he felt contentment at how he just experienced the most mind-blowing sex in his life. Of course, that person that he did it with was you, and he couldn't think of anyone else in the world who he'd share such passion with. You were his muse, and he wouldn't trade you in with anyone in the world.

Hudson unraveled his arms around you then smiled at your sweaty face, with your cheeks still flushed in deep red and your chest heaving, trying to recollect yourself. "Babe, I'll be driving us both back to my place in a second so I need to get dressed right now. I'm sorry that I have to ask you to get off of me so soon. But don't worry, we'll get plenty of time to cuddle later."

For only a short moment, your eyes displayed a disappointed glimpse, before you had to pull yourself off of him. The mixed discharge that was overflowing out of your cunt and down his balls were liberated from your snug kitty, allowing his love-stick to spring out freely. His cock was coated in all of its sticky glory, glistening in dirty body fluids under the moonlight. Right when you got on your feet, you winced at the feeling of pines-and-needles in your legs from having your legs bent for too long, which stopped your blood circulation to flow through them. You almost fell onto the floor until Hudson caught you by the waist and said, "Woah, that was close. Be careful, (Y/N)." Turning around, you thanked him saying, "Thanks Hud-" Damn. What an attractive sight to behold.

When you turned around to thank him, your eyes trailed down from his face, down to his shaft, that was dripping in all of its splendor. Curious at what you were staring at, Hudson followed your gaze down to his own private, then smirked. He laid out both of his arms behind the carseats' head placements on either side of him with his legs spread out, staring back at you with a playful grin. "Hurry up and toss me my clothes if you want to get out of here quicker. We'll go for another round once we get there."

Snapping you out of your dirty thoughts, you immediately got his remaining clothes off of the floor, including yours. You handed them to him, and once he took them out of your hands, he snatched your clothes right out of your hands then quickly tossed them at the very back of the car. Unable to reach them, you glared at him yelling, "What was that for?!" He smirked at your outburst saying, "You won't be needing those anytime soon since I did say, that we're going for Round Two when we get there." While watching him get fully dressed, you stared at him in distress protesting, "But my-" Suddenly, he tossed you his coat then said cheekily, "Take it. It'll help cover your body while we get there. In the meantime, you're still under your punishment. So, blame yourself for being a bad girl and deal with it. And just stay here in the back for now, it's cold outside." As he unlocked the nearest door to him, he got out of the car to head into the driver's seat. Right when he got himself comfortable in his seat, you took his coat and pulled it over yourself, now wearing it to conceal your naked body. When he started the car, he turned on the headlights, switched the defroster on, and hit the gas pedal. The car drove out of the driveway and down into the street, speeding towards the rightful destination that you both so coveted for.

. . .

When you were heading up to his condo, you awkwardly passed by his neighbors while trying to cover yourself with his coat. It was all fun and games, watching you anxiously greet people who passed by you, on Hudson's end. He was obviously enjoying the sight of you having to try and act normal, when he introduced you as his girlfriend to his neighbors. Good thing that didn't last too long.

The both of you reached the front door of his place, as he unlocked it with a passcode. Right when he opened the door for you, you walked in slowly, feeling your heart hammering through your ribcage, already awaiting what was about to go down. Once you heard the door shut behind you, Hudson did no hesitate to attack you from behind. His hands grabbed onto your waist, spinning you around to lock his lips onto yours wildly, with your arms now flinging over his neck to cling onto him again. You felt his hands glide down your thighs as his robust grip lifted you up from the ground, coercing you to wrap your legs around his waist. As he carried you all the way to his bedroom, your lips never left each other until you both made it to his bed. He threw you onto the bed with such force, that you felt your back hit the mattress with a thud. When your eyes focused on him, you noticed how the room was basked almost in complete darkness, except for the huge glass window beside his bed that welcomed in the presence of the full moon. During his little strip show, you caught a glimpse of his eyes that were now glimmering in pure lust, taking off every layer of clothing that he had. Patiently, you watched him take off his sweater, then his shirt that he pulled over his head, as his toned body is engulfed in lunar light with his rock hard abs and beefy arms. God, he's so hot. May the Lord have mercy for what he's about to do...

"Lose the coat. Tonight, you won't be needing it with what I'm about to do to you."

Blushing uncontrollably, you took the coat off yourself and threw it onto the floor right next the bed. Waiting for him like the good girl that you are, you examined your boyfriend undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Promptly, he slid them right off and tossed them to the side. He did the same with his briefs, as he removed it and dropped them to the floor, without any train of thought in his actions. His mind was already going feral just by imagining all the wonderful things in bed that he wanted to do with you at that very moment. Hudson didn’t waste any time as he climbed onto the bed, creeping towards you like a beast who locked his eyes on his prey. With speed as fast as a panther’s pounce, he grabbed onto your legs then dragged you towards him. A gasp escaped through your lips, as your back laid flat onto the bed while your head was now facing him upwards.

In one command, he said in an imposing fashion, “Spread your legs for me.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

Swiftly, you did so without any signs of doubt. With a triumphant snicker, he held onto your legs on both sides after saying, “Good girl.” He then dug his face into your heat, as he began to eat you out like a starving man. Throwing your head back in bliss, you felt his tongue flick your clit multiple times. The sensation of his salivated tongue uttered pleased moans that were emitted from your vocal chords. Without thinking, you ran your fingers through his hair, grabbing onto a tuft of his blonde tendrils.

"Ahhh~, Hudson..."

In between his slurping and tongue fucking, his thirsty eyes peeked at you from in between your legs, murmuring, "That's right, keep calling my name out. Just like that..."

Resuming his need to devour you, he tightened his grip on your legs and began to vigorously dig his tongue into you, causing you to squirm and squeal at the sensation of his inhumane tongue.

Gasping, you called out in response to his blessed mouth saying, “O-oh god, Hudson~!! Don’t stop~!!!”

Clenching your hands deeper in your grasp on his hair, Hudson obliged to quicken his pace on your sopping cunt by angling his tongue onto the right spot, teasing you out on your g-spot. Arching your back in response gave him a sense of great satisfaction, encouraging him to keep going until your body couldn’t take it anymore. In immense pleasure, you called out to him screaming, “Hudsooooon~!!!!” Your insides pulsed around his tongue, resulting in a shower of your juices to squirt erratically onto his tongue. Leaving you breathless, his face drew back from your pussy, meeting with your eyes critically. With your warm juices still lingering on the sides of his mouth, he licked the corners of his mouth sexily, still maintaining his solicitous eye contact with you. The warmth on your cheeks burned a very bright red, yet even under the moon’s shimmer, it was still noticeable. Hudson shifted towards your side then laid back onto the end next to you.

Leisurely, he got comfortable onto the bed, giving you another instruction for you to follow. “Suck on it.”

Without having to refuse, you crawled in between his legs and got into position. Feeling for his solid member, you pumped his shaft a few times before you teased him right. The direct eye contact you gave him made him tense up in anticipation, wondering what you had in mind. While still maintaining your ravenous eyes on him, you took his member in your hand, then started to lick the side of his cock like a lollipop. A sweet, delicious, treat that only you were in possession of. Winning a few moans from him, your mouth curved devilishly, already sensing that he’s at the brink of losing his wits just by feeling his gonad stiffen into its rock-like form. Enjoying the sight of your boyfriend being pleasured by you, resulted in you feeling a tremendous sense of achievement. “You really are a naughty girl, aren’t you, (Y/N)? But, you’re so good at teasing. I should be careful while I’m around you, from now on…” His praises were irresistible to the ears, which made you decide your next move. Gifting him what he wanted out of you, you gladly took his mouthwatering length into your mouth. This time, you were quite into it. Your hand massages his thickness up and down, while you mouth was in sync. Tongue swirling, cheeks blowing, mouth slurping, it was like a beautiful melody to Hudson. His sexually arousing grunts was fuel for you to continue without stopping, which caused him to smooth your hair out of your face, and hold your head from behind. Your moans onto his cock, making it seem like you couldn’t get enough of how delicious he tasted in your mouth, resulted in his cock to swell. The increase in his size made you gag a bit, but that didn’t stop you from slowing down your pace on his shaft. Curses were spewed from under his breath as he said while panting, “Goddamn, baby. You really do love me, don't you? My lovely little slut~ Mmmm, shit…”

From the way he was vibrating in your mouth, his pulsations were going ballistic from how well you were sucking him off. In that very instance, you went crazy over his cock as well. Driving him insane with the slurping and the “Mmm~”’s coming from your dirty mouth, he tightened his grip on your head, as he hissed saying, “Go ahead and take my cum, you whore. I want you to take all of it, and don’t waste a single drop…” With one final sink onto his wood, he burst into your mouth like a water fountain, showering your cavity with that delicious milk of his, that you loved so much. With a groan, he pulled down onto your hair from behind to make sure that you take all of him in. Down your throat his seed went, swallowing it like the sweet little tart you are. Your mouth stayed there for a minute, feeling his semen travel down the back of your throat and into your stomach, making you feel warm and full in your body. It was time for your lips to detach from his huge prong, untangling your tongue that was wrapped around the base of his sex, you dragged your mouth up towards his crown. Giving his head one long lasting suction of your lips, separating from his peachy tip with a sloppy trickle of your saliva that faded into thin air. Hudson's eyes were glued onto your mouth, entranced at how intoxicating you made his private feel, with just that extraordinary mouth of yours.

Relishing with endearment for you, he sat up straight so he can show you his cute displays of affection. Just the simple touch of his hand grazing down from your scalp to the side of your face, compelled you to lean into his hand appreciatively while admiring his pretty dark eyes above you. In a softer tone, he apologized with, “Princess, I’m sorry for using such vulgar words on you. I got too caught up in the moment. I hope you can forgive me…” Giggling at the sight of how shameful he looked by averting his eyes from you, you couldn't help but think of how adorable he was. Exactly like a puppy, ashamed to even beg for forgiveness. You gently placed your hand on top of his, coercing him to turn his attention back onto you in interest. Bringing it onto your lips, you kissed his hand dearly before pronouncing, "I love you, Hudson", with an angelic smile. A small tint of red overcame his cheeks at your confession of love for him. How precious, he thought. I really am a lucky man. To have someone as loving as her to stay by my side like this... To think that he already had the love of his life beside him brought him great comfort. In return, he replied back saying, "I love you too, (Y/N). I swear, I'm never letting you go ever again." Leaning forward, he scooped you up into his strong arms, then crashed down on the bed with you on top of him. You fell on his sturdy chest and on impulse, your hand smoothed over his chiseled abs, feeling every solid ripple of his fit body. As his buff arms enveloped your body closely, his lips kissed you passionately in pure devotion. Deepening the kiss, you kissed him back while butterflies flew within your stomach, awakening every heartfelt emotion you had towards him. Intertwined with each other, you and Hudson ignited a flame full of passion, which lasted the both of you all throughout the night. Harboring not only this never-ending desire for one another, but also carrying out this infatuation of deep romance...

[maximuswolf]

I think Fortnite is a much better game than I realized

I think Fortnite is a much better game than I realized I didn't really care for Fortnite when it came out. I don't even remember what year that was, but I was not that interested. I'm a Halo guy, love them equal starts, so the battle royale is probably the opposite in that instead of a very controlled 4 v 4 match, Fortnite is a 100 person free for all on a map in absolutely fucking chaos.So, an old friend that I used to play Rust with reconnected with me and she and her boy play Fortnite, and my little nephew does too, so obviously I got in on that, if only because "Uncle Bear" has to prove to his nephew he can game on him in his own turf. I didn't have any figures in my childhood who gamed with me, so its especially important that I tried to at least understand the deeper mechanics. I'm a good uncle like that.Yo why do people dunk on Fortnite?The answer is rhetorical. Fortnite is insanely popular, and that includes kids, and those things make people goofy. Some of the replies I'm going to get here are goofy and I really hope the mod team is up to dealing with that because this is a pretty cool topic.So where do I start?Fortnite catapulted the battle royale into the gaming zeitgeist. Its been done better since, maybe even before, but Fortnite took it and made it popular enough that now, nobody even remembers PUBG, let alone that they sued Epic over Fortnite being a battle royale.Fortnite brilliantly uses pop culture to push its entire concept. The end result is monetization out the wazoo because microtransactions bla bla bla whales etc. etc.So I played about two seasons ago with my nephew, and got to platinum III and then the next season dropped and it was way different (Mad max cars???) and I was like "Oh, it was a fluke, I'm over this game"After playing a few matches this season, no, I was wrong. Epic knows what they're doing.They tear their sandbox up every season and drop items from whatever is the theme, and that's one of the best things about the game. It keeps the meta fresh. I found a jet pack in my last match, realized I could use it to roll unexpected people on the ground, and quickly got very one-sided kills.I thought "Oh, this changes things" and then about 30 seconds later somebody else with a jetpack flew over me and scraped me out of the air. Indeed it does.I haven't played enough to talk about much more than Captain America's shield (CAS for brevity)I had used it a few times. I thought it was cool how you could block with it, throw it, and even sprint with it out. Very cool mechanics. That the crosshair is a star is just proof that Epic knows how to make these things ooze with pop culture.I didn't understand what it was good for exactly. My mind was thinking in terms of the riot shield from CoD. Then I had this engagement:Close quarters, I had a shotgun out. Dude come running with the shield. Alright, I've done this, wait for him to drop guard and plug him. So I fire off a shot to try to make him react, and he obviously blocks it, and then immediately throws the CAS at me which hit me and comes back to him. This exposes him so I am spamming my trigger trying to get the next shot but he gets the CAS back and blocks right as I fire, and immediately throws again, and I kept spamming and he worked me into the ground. Didn't even take damage.That's some solid design. Good kill random stranger.So much of Fortnite's massive sandbox is changing every season, and because of that, even in balancing they just have to make sure nothing gets too OP because by the time the meta has caught up, they drop a new season.Anyways, Kuddos to Epic for making such a great multiplayer experience, they'd probably be more bothered by basement nerds hating on it if it didn't make them like a billion dollars. See ya on the bus! Submitted September 01, 2024 at 08:00PM by LuckyTheBear https://ift.tt/n2uBKaw via /r/gaming

[ghostchasersmagazine]

"Fix the Fixer" from Speed Buggy Issue #7

Transcript under the cut:

"We gotta get to that little clunker, Spanner!" Crash Bumpem growled.

The Big Race was going to be run that afternoon. Crash Bumpem's menacing big black car (#13 of course) was all tuned up, but Crash always wanted a sure thing. He and Spanner looking over to where Tinker was giving Speedy his bottle. Not a baby bottle - a quart bottle of delicious oil that Speedy gulped down thirstily.

"Golly, Tinker, that was good!" Speed Buggy said, then burped politely. "How about putting a little air in my left front tire? I'm a little down on that side."

Tinker wiped Speedy's shiny valve cover and grinned.

"Sure thing, Speedy. Anything for a friend!"

Spanner snorted and jerked a thumb in Speed Buggy's direction.

"That stupid kid talks to the clunker, Crash!"

Crash sneered a real nasty sneer. "Yeah. Neither one of them'll be talkin' after we wipe 'em out in this race. I'm gonna bend that stupid little car into junk and the dumb kid drivin' it will think the roof fell on him!"

Speed Buggy was listening and he was worried.

"Tinker? Crash Bumpem and his ham-handed mechanic are plotting against us. You'd better keep an eye on them."

Tinker nodded. He went over to Mark and Debbie who had gone to enter Speed Buggy in the race. He told them about Crash and Spanner.

"I know, Tinker," Mark said worriedly. "Crash is bad news on a race track. Just make sure he doesn't get the chance to nudge you into the fence."

"I'll watch Spanner," Debbie volunteered. "If he tries any tricks, I'll let you know."

Spanner, meanwhile, had come up with an idea. He told it to Crash, and Crash's evil face got really ugly when he smiled. His teeth looked like they were intended for a shark.

"Terrific, Spanner! Bolt it on. I'll keep watch so nobody catches ya doin' it!"

Spanner crawled the ugly black car. He banged and hammered. Debbie was watching but she couldn't figure out what he was doing. She went back to where Mark was helping Tinker work on Speedy.

"They're up to something, Mark," Debbie said. "Spanner attacked something underneath the car in back. You'd better be careful, Tinker."

Speedy looked worried. "If he isn't, I will be, Debbie. Get in, Tinker. We'd better start warming up."

They ran a few laps. Speedy complained his fan belt was too loose, and they fixed it. Then, they lined up for the start. They went around the track with Speedy in the second row on the rail and #13, black and ugly, alongside him. Crash glared over at Tinker.

"Keep outa my way, kid," Crash bellowed, "or I'll put ya through the fence."

Tinker sneered, but he was worried. The green flag dropped, and they were off around the first turn with #13 trying to jam Speedy into the fence. Speedy braked, and #13 scraped the fence instead. Then Speedy got in behind Crash Bumpem's fast car, and Tinker decided to tailgate their rival until the last lap.

Crash knew Speed Buggy might run second the whole race, then whip out and pass them in the stretch. That suited him just fine!

Tinker got suspicious. Crash wasn't trying to wreck them as they passed other cards. #13 was in the lead and Speed Buggy was right behind him, saving himself for the last lap.

Crash snickered to himself as he looked back. "Wait'll the last lap! Spanner stuck a black, smoke bomb under the rear. When I press the button, that stupid car won't know where they are!"

Then, it was the last lap. On the backstretch, Crash gave a dirty laugh and hit the black smoke button. Immediately, his exhaust seemed to belch black smoke right into Speedy's face. Speedy gagged and coughed, and Tinker couldn't see a thing!

"Do something, Tinker!" Speedy yelped.

Tinker turned out. Crash blocked him, turning out too. The black smoke belched into Speedy who coughed sputtered and coughed.

"Only one thing to do, Speedy!"

Speedy coughed. "What?"

"Fly!" replied Tinker. He learned back, tilting the wheel and Speedy started to rise.

Crash snickered, looking back. The smoke blocked the track. Speedy could never win now. Crash went into the last turn, heading for the finish line.

If he'd loved up, he'd have seen Speed Buggy, tired flattened out into wings. The smoke stopped, Speedy glided down, and Tinker stepped on the gas. Just as they crossed the finish line, Speedy got his nose out in front.

"We won!" Mark and Debbie shouted happily.

Crash pulled into the pits where Spanner waited.

"We lost!" Crash said to Spanner and then punched him in the eyes. Spanner punched him back while Speed Buggy and the gang watched happily.

[khelinski]

Snowpocalypse

To Michelle, the best sister a brother could ever have.  

 And there it was, the ‘storm of the century.’ The one everyone talked about as ‘Snowpocalypse.’ I was just a little tyke when it happened. But I remember it well enough. The one everyone proclaimed, ‘the end of the world, as we know it.’ Everyone freaked out days before the ‘storm.’ It was as if - BOOM – a zombie invasion just exploded or 2012 came a year early. February 2nd, 2011 – Mother Nature decided to give Michigan a surprise of epic proportions. And boy was everyone surprised. But I can’t talk about that day without mentioning the events leading up to that day.

It was all over the news.  

2 FEET OF SNOW.  

COMING TO A GROUND NEAR YOU!

Rated T.C. for…

….TAKE COVER!

Everyone at school was talking about it - the sheer excitement of SNOW. In those days, I loved the snow. Making angels. Snow fights. Building a snowman (or fort). That is, of course, until I learned how to drive. Scraping the snow/ice off the car. In the cold. De-frosting the car. In the cold. Driving in a cold car. From one extreme to another, I went from loving snow to hating snow as I progressed in life!

But in those days, I LOVED the snow. And I couldn’t wait for it. All that powder-substance to play with. As if Mother Nature decided to dump her cold dandruff for our own enjoyment! As my sister and I got out of school, we ran immediately to the house. We both took the same bus together. The neighborhood is like any other neighborhood in the ‘burbs. And our house was nothing extraordinary. Yellow sidings, red bricks - next to two colonial houses built in the 1970s. It wasn’t much, but it was home. All my childhood memories reside in that house.

My sister and I got to the door, opened it with much excitement, and pestered mom into going grocery shopping for the kick-butt snow day. She insisted there wouldn’t be one. Schools usually don’t determine school closings until early in the morning. She even turned on the local news to prove us wrong. To her own horror, school closings were already listed on TV. As luck had a role in our own desired destiny, our school was part of that list. I jumped up and down with so much excitement! My sister followed suit, just to mimic me. She was in that stage of her young life where mimicking every possible movement I made would benefit her in some way.    

“Fine,” my mom said with an aggravated tone. “You guys have no school tomorrow. But I am still not going to the store.”

“Please, please, please, please,” I pleaded. My sister repeated every please I said, but with louder decibels.  

“NO! We have food. Cupboards. Pantry. Fridge. Find it, eat it!” mom said with annoyance and anger.

Needless to say, this was a disappointment. Sure, there was food in the house. In fact, if a zombie invasion did come to pass, or if the end of the world does occur at some point – we are surely covered if we needed to take cover. BUT! This was a snow day. This had its own level of urgency. We needed SNOW DAY food. Or, to be more appropriate, ‘Snowpocalypse’ grub! No matter, we waited till dad came home from work. If we knew anything in our short little lives, dad was always the one to go to when mommy dearest says N, O! And like clockwork, as he came home and as we pestered him, he said in exact words, “that’s a great idea!”

“Now, we have food. Don’t tell me we don’t have any food,” mom shouted in the other room.

“That might be, but we don’t have snow day food!” dad said in defense.

“Snow day food?” mom asked.

“Yeah. I am going to take the day off tomorrow. Spend some quality time with my family!” dad answered.

And just like that, we were off to the local grocery store. Mom pointed out how busy it would be.

“Nonsense,” dad says. “It’s not like the end of the world or anything.”

But to his surprise and mom’s prediction, the parking lot was packed to the max. We parked to what seemed like God’s country and walked great lengths to what appeared to be a full-fledged zoo. Everyone in the store was completely out of his or her mind.

           “It’s like Y2K all over again!” dad said.

We got our cart and fought through the clutter of bodies, aisle-after-aisle. It was decided we should have Chili (a very appropriate snow day meal). Sis and I even got some candy out of the deal (only had to do some ear-piercing whining first, works every time!) We got in line, and waited for what seemed like an hour (of course five minutes in a long line does seem longer in the scheme of things). People in front of us had shovels, salt, generators, a cart full of ‘emergency food’ (water/bread/milk/alcohol), and even that urgent pack of gum. It was insane! Even at a young age, I grasped how crazy people were acting. It really did have that feel of the day before the end of the world.

As we left the store, the snow started to fall. People were running to and from their cars as if it was acid rain! I stuck my tongue out to catch the snowflakes in my mouth. Like clockwork, my sister followed suit. The snow was starting to accumulate on the ground. We got to the house. And would you believe it, it was close to bedtime! My excitement couldn’t contain itself. I stared out of the window, watching the snowflakes fall from the sky onto the ground. What little grass was left turned into white pavement. The white pavement got higher and higher from the ground, creating a winter wonderland landscape. All I can think about is playing in that magical white cold substance, rolling my entire body in the majestic white crystals. Taking a handful of it at a time to make a snow-fort that will become my own Fortress of Solitude. Throwing endless snowballs at any enemy that steps inches toward my fort. I will create a bodyguard snowman in front of the fort, so no unsuspecting and unwanted guests intrude. The distant sounds of shoveling and snow blowing will be my soundtrack for the day. Hehe…the entire backyard was my oyster. And I was going to seize every minute of it. That’s what I dreamt about that night!

What everyone predicted Snowpocalpyse was going to be like, and what ended up being were two completely different scenarios. Not even the weatherman predicted what ultimately came to be. It ended up being a very unusual day and was placed in the record books. 

I woke up to birds chirping. The sunlight from the outside window was completely blinding in every-which-way. In fact, the sunlight rays interrupted my snow-covered-dream. I looked outside, and was bare witness to the very definition of a WTF moment; my mouth was wide in length. I even gasped for dear life. I almost thought I was still dreaming. I had to pinch myself, slap my face, and instantly close/reopen my eyes just to make sure what I was seeing was real enough. The predictions/forecast/assumptions and my entire planned-out snow day, dream, didn’t match up to the display outside.

Instead of 2 feet of snow delivered by Mother Nature herself, I saw what appeared to be a May sunny sky-like morning. Sun in the middle of nothing but blue sky and not a single cloud in sight. The calmness was at a standstill. All the snow dissolved into the water for the grass. Any appearance of Michigan winter evaporated in thin air overnight. In its stead was a Michigan spring day, awaiting its guests to entertain everything it had.

The heat from the sun-blasted through my window-screen. I slide the glass window open and breathed in-and-out the fresh spring air. There’s just something about the early spring air that is pleasurably intoxicating. The air was mild and warm. The next thing I saw was even more of a shocker. Instead of my sister and me running around in the magical snow that was promised to us - my parents appeared to be playing tag outside. They were running around, laughing, smiling, and kissing each other. YUCK!

I got dressed and went outside to join my parent’s madness. The warm sun hit my skin, and my allergies immediately hit me like a semi-truck crashing without warning. But I didn’t mind it. It was a treat to see my parents in a good mood. It has been quite a while. And it was good going outside and not having to wear gazillion layers of clothes.  

We went back inside and watched the news. The weatherman coughed on-air and apologized for the drastic change of weather. Brief video shots of other states that received the care-package of snow were mixed in with sound-bites of various reasons why what we were supposed to get differed to what was currently outside. The weatherman couldn’t even explain it. But anyone that lives in Michigan long enough knows how random and how unpredictable weather can be. It can be spring/fall/and/winter in a single 24-hour day, and not be explained why or how. And that’s precisely what happened. Coincidentally, it was Groundhog Day, and the predictions called for an early spring. No one expected it this early. This was, as they say, record-breaking. The highest temp February 2nd saw in its history in the great city we lived in was 65 degrees, and that was in 1984. Well, ladies and gents – 2011 saw 76 degrees. And I was one of the lucky ones to have experienced it.

Instead of rolling in the snow, I ended up rollerblading. Instead of making a snow-fort, I rode my bike. Instead of throwing snowballs, I threw the good ol’ Frisbee back and forth with dad. It was a day to remember. Mom’s annoyance wasn’t detected at all.  She was out in the sun, reading her current People magazine. My sister was riding her Big Wheel around the front driveway. All the neighbors were out experiencing the same ‘snow day’ I was. Instead of the sounds of shoveling and snow blowing with the occasional colorful adjectives I wasn’t allowed to repeat, or I would get that nasty Zest bar soap in my mouth, I heard the noise of basketballs slamming down on the pavement. I listened to the echoing sound of rotating wheels on bikes. I heard the sound of laughter. Girls next door were in their bathing suits, soaking the hot sun. I wasn’t at that age yet to appreciate such sights! In those days, cooties were still highly contagious!

The day went by quickly. There was a family vote that it wasn’t a Chili-like-day. Instead, dad went to the store and grabbed some burgers to put on the grill. The smell of barbeques was shared backyard-to-backyard like an outbreak. We finished the day by relaxing underneath the sunset. We had a bonfire in the backyard, instead of a fire in the fireplace indoors. We melted marshmallows on a long stick fork, instead of having melted marshmallows in a cup of hot chocolate.

That day was like a preview of what to look forward to in the summer. The freedom summer brings, compared to the constraints of what winter brings. I am not sure why the weather changed so rapidly. That one single ‘Snowpocalypse’ was a one-trick-pony. The next day, it snowed. Not the end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it two-footer. But any signs of early spring disappeared.

Days and weeks went by, and there were a few snow days – nothing like what February 2nd would have been like. Years went by, and there were some memorable ‘Snowpocalypse’-like days. I have kids of my own, who experienced their own magic of snow days. And like myself growing up, the magic dissolves from an opportunity to play in the snow all day to just sleep-in all day! But unfortunately for them, there was never a day like February 2nd, 2011 – a ‘snow day’ not to be reckoned with. The ‘Snowpocalypse’ I barely survived!      

K.H.; February 11-12, 2011.

[wordsandupstead]

Frantic Call

Jay HalsteadxReader

summary: Y/n’s bad day just keeps getting worse, and when she can’t take it anymore, she calls Jay, crying.  words: 1.5k

~

The sound of metal crashing against wood catches your attention and momentarily stuns you. As you turn your head to the passenger side of the car, you realize you weren’t watching that side as you backed up, and you smashed your mirror against the telephone pole outside of your house. Your heart immediately sinks to your belly. 

“I gotta go!” You shout at your phone, despite hearing your brother’s confused questions coming through your cars speaker via bluetooth. He had been practically yelling at you over something that had happened between him and your mom, which is not uncommon. As the middle child, you’ve always been the mediator, even though you’re all adults with separate lives now, things somehow still come back to you, as if they expect you to sort their problems out. 

Putting your car in park, you jump out and rush around to the other side. Your mirror is hanging from a cord, and the paint on the passenger side door is scraped. Part of the metal is caved in too. You force a deep breath into your lungs and try to remain composed despite wanting to burst into tears standing there on the street.

The argument your brother had with your mom left you feeling like things were already falling apart. His yelling was just enough distraction to make you forget to check over your shoulder while backing into your driveway. You always check over your shoulder, except today. 

You somehow manage to hold it together enough to park your car in the driveway properly. As you get out of your car, you glance at your work phone to see a new email from your boss.  

I need that incident report by tomorrow.

That’s all it says. Your workload had increased significantly a few weeks ago, and the constant stress of the day to day at work has been getting to you.  You’ve been making small mistakes that you’d never have made otherwise. There was an incident with a client that you don’t even want to think about, but your boss, as is his job, has no problem reminding you. 

After a moment, a text from your brother comes in. Call me back. And you sigh, standing there in a daze in the driveway, you can barely get yourself to move. 

Between work, your family drama, and now knowing you have to deal with getting your car fixed, you really just want to take a shower and crawl into bed,  but you can’t do that, because it’s 2pm on a Tuesday, and you have an online meeting in thirty minutes. 

Your fingers hover over the contact in your phone. He’s at work, and you don’t want to bother him, but he’s the only person you want to talk to. His voice is the only one you want to hear right now. You can feel yourself holding it together by a thread as you press on his contact and start walking into the house, leaving your poor car in the driveway. 

“Hello?” He answers.

“Do you have time to talk?” You question, unsure of whether he’s busy or not.

He probably senses the urgency in your tone, “Yeah, I have a couple minutes before I have to be in the interrogation room.” 

A part of you knows that since he said he has a couple minutes, this probably means he was supposed to be in the interrogation room five minutes ago, and he doesn’t actually have time. You almost say never mind and end the call, but you can’t keep your composure any longer, and you need to talk to him. 

“My brother got into a big fight with my mom and I was backing up and I hit a telephone pole, and I messed up at work and I’m scared that I’m going to get in trouble.” 

“Whoa, hold on, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, my car’s not.” You respond.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Was anyone hurt?” 

“No, no one was even on the street, it was just me, hitting a stupid pole because I didn’t look over my shoulder because I was distracted because my brother was yelling at me and I was rushing home from work to do the stupid incident report that I should have done by now. And I have a meeting at 2:30.” 

The tears start falling and then you’re fully sobbing. You’re standing in the kitchen, just sobbing as Jay tries to understand everything you just said. You can hear shuffling on the other end, but he doesn’t say anything right away, and you continue crying and mumbling something about your car. 

“I’m coming home.” You finally hear him say. 

“No, you have an interrogation!” You respond, knowing you’ll feel even worse if he just leaves work right now. “

“Y/n, you’re not hurt, right?” He questions, completely ignoring your reminder that he’s supposed to be working. 

“No,” You mumble behind the tears still falling. You force a deep breath and try to slow your sobs. “But I have that meeting. It’s at 2:30.” You repeat yourself. 

“Okay, are you inside?” 

“Yes.”

“Go get a glass of water.” He calmly instructs. 

More tears fall and you shout, “I’m not thirsty. I’m sad!” 

“Please go get a drink of water.” He responds, remaining calm, a complete contrast to you, and you listen, walking over to the kitchen and pulling a glass from the cabinet. 

You put the phone on speaker even though Jay isn’t saying anything. Your sobs slow as you take three big gulps of the cold filtered water from the fridge. 

“Okay,” You say after drinking the water. Your voice is a little clearer and you feel a tiny bit calmer. 

“Okay,” His voice comes through the phone. “Your brother is going to be fine. Your mom is too.” He reassures you. He doesn’t even know what the argument was about, but he’s known you and your family long enough to know this isn’t the end of the world. 

“Your car can be fixed. I’ll look at it when I get home.” 

“You can’t come home now!” You respond. “I’ll be in a meeting by the time you get here anyway, and I have some work to do after too.” 

“I know,” he pauses and goes completely silent for a moment. You assume he muted himself and is talking to someone at work. A few seconds later, he comes back on. “It’s almost 2:30, your meeting is going to be good, and I’ll be home by the time you’re done, okay?” He says, as though he has everything figured out. Even though you know he doesn’t, and he can’t exactly fix things, it still feels good to know he’ll be there soon. 

You take a deep breath and try to regain your composure. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, bye.” 

You end the call and pull your laptop out of your bag to set it up at your desk. You quickly respond to your bosses email letting him know you’ll have the report to him by the end of the day, and start reviewing notes for the meeting. You open up the camera app and check your reflection, just to get a glimpse of what others in the meeting are about to see. Your cheeks are red and blotchy and your eyes are puffy. You have two minutes to fix this. Darting into the bathroom, you immediately try fixing your makeup before removing your contacts and replacing them with glasses, hoping they’ll help to hide your face even though you know it’s pointless. 

You slide back into your chair with just a few seconds to spare and quickly log into the meeting, reading over your notes once more.

The meeting is nearly over, and you’re honestly surprised that you managed to get this far without fully breaking down again. You hear the front door open and then close quietly, followed by light footsteps. Glancing over, you see Jay in the doorway, a starbucks cup in one hand and his work stuff in the other. 

He looks at you lovingly then silently walks toward you, careful to remain out of the frame of the camera. He places the cup down on the desk, mouthing, I love you, before practically tiptoeing away and disappearing into the bedroom. 

Spinning the cup, you see he got your order completely right, and even paid extra for the pumpkin cold foam, something you love but have a hard time justifying the cost of. 

Nothing is fixed, you still have a mountain of work and that incident report due. You still have a broken mirror and messed up passenger door, and a call to return to your brother. But somehow, knowing your boyfriend is home, knowing he left work early because you needed him, and knowing that when your meeting ends in a few minutes you can go to him, suddenly things don’t seem so bad after all. 

[rafescoke]

Obsessed ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: “Till death do us part.”

Warnings: Mutual toxic relationship! Rafe being overly obsessed with reader, heavy smut

A/N: 900 followers wtf ily <33 so sorry if this isn’t my best work :(

(Y/N) laughs as the feeling of his soft lips peppers her lower abdomen. It has always been so exquisite. She almost doesn’t want to let go.

“Rafe!” She sighs, throwing her head back. “We have to go to your sister’s birthday dinner.”

“Just stay,” he replies, trailing his wet kisses down to her thighs. She shivers from the tingling feeling in the pits of her stomach. “We don’t have to go.”

“Of course we do,” she answers, running her fingers through his hair. He groans when he feels a sudden tug, but he likes it.

“I have to make a good impression on Sarah and your parents, baby.”

“They can’t stop me from loving you,” he chuckles, finally parting from her skin and staring up at her (E/C) orbs.

How can someone look so magical?

“Rafe, come on,” she sighs, bending down to plant a kiss on his cheeks. “You can do anything to me tonight.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” she nods, laughing slightly when he goes straight for her stomach again. “If you keep doing this I will leave you hanging tonight.”

He pulls away, groaning. “Okay, okay. Come on. Let’s go.”

Being in a relationship with Rafe Cameron feels so amazing yet surreal. She heard things about him before, how he was having a hard time trying to fight his anger issues and his addiction, but she always felt intrigued by his presence.

Every time she went to a party hosted by some kooks, her eyes will always meet his blue ones.

It felt like fate.

Rafe holds her hands in his as they walk down the carpeted floor to the big table filled to the end with their friends and a few family members.

“Woah, this is a big family,” (Y/N) smiles, tightening her grip around Rafe’s fingers.

“Rafe, you’re early today,” Ward greets, and (Y/N) smiles before Rafe pulls her to his back, as though shielding her from him. She quirks a brow.

“And this is (Y/N), I assume?” He asks, extending his hand out. (Y/N) smiles and wraps her hands around his.

“Yeah,” Rafe grunts, and pulls her back to his side.

“(Y/N), I’m glad you can join us,” Rose appears, her red lips pulled into a warm smile. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

(Y/N) looks up to Rafe, her heart beating. Did he tell them about her?

That’s the last thing she would ever guess from him.

“Hey, nice seeing you with Rafe, (Y/L/N),” Topper smiles, and Rafe watches as he helps her down to her seat. He raises a brow but decides against it.

“Hey, yeah,” (Y/N) replies, glancing at Rafe and back to Topper. “It’s nice seeing you here, Tops.”

Rafe’s hands travel to her thighs, tracing invisible circles whilst glancing around the table. He doesn’t feel like making any new conversations with anyone, and he definitely doesn’t appreciate the way Topper is more chatty with his girl than before.

Since when is Topper interested in the same girl as his?

His grip around her thighs tightens. Maybe it’s the annoyance from watching his own best friend flirting with her. Or maybe it’s the anger coursing in him when she does the same thing.

“Hey, you brought a girlfriend!” Sarah greets, bending down to give Topper a kiss on his cheeks. “(Y/N), right?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) replies, extending her hand to greet the blonde Cameron.

Always the crowd-pleaser, her.

The whole time the dinner sets out, Rafe can’t wait to just get the event over and bring his girlfriend home. He never wants (Y/N) to get closer to his family, and doesn’t intend to. The last thing he wants is for Sarah and (Y/N) to become best friends.

“Yeah, and then guess what?” Topper asks, waiting to drop the punchline. (Y/N) laughs at the enthusiasm, and then shakes her head.

“What?”

“I didn’t even get it!”

“What?” (Y/N) laughs, eyes shut and hands clutching onto her stomach. “You were never this funny, Tops. What happened?”

Here we go again with the Tops. Why is she even calling him that?

Rafe pulls her chair closer to his and whispers into her ear. She perks up from his hot breath. “Let’s go home.”

“We haven’t sung the birthday song, Rafe,” she sighs. “Come on, let’s just wait for another half an hour.”

And she returns back to Topper like he isn’t there.

Rafe stands up, scraping the linoleum floor of the restaurant as he did so. A few family and friends stare at him, but without giving them a glance, he pulls (Y/N) up with a grip around her arms.

“Rafe, ow! What are you doing?”

“We’re leaving, come on,” he grunts, retrieving his phone from the table and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Why? We’re not done yet?”

“Yo, man, what’s up?” Topper asks, being so confused after getting stopped midway of him trying to tell another story. “You haven’t seen the cake yet.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything and continues to pull her away to the exit. She moans from the tug in pain, but her expression is plastered with an apologetic look to everyone around the table. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” (Y/N) yells, prying his arms away from his grip and immediately starting to apply pressure to the pain. 

“I don’t like seeing the way you’re talking to Topper,” he finally speaks, walking straight toward his jeep. He stops after a few seconds, looking back to his shoulders to see if she’s following him, and resumes his walk when her angry face follows him.

“We’re just talking. Rafe, I don’t appreciate you pulling me away like this just because you’re jealous.”

He stops walking and turns back to look at her. “You were practically begging him to fuck you, (Y/N). Don’t you realize it?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Fuck you, I’m not getting into the car with you,” she says, slowly feeling hot tears filling up her eyes.

“You are, and that’s final. Get the fuck in.”

He steps closer to her, trying to get ahold of her, but she’s quick. She moves away, blocking his view of her face so he doesn’t see the tears that are streaming down her face.

He’s got way too far this time.

“(Y/N), get in. Let’s talk about this on the way home. Come on.”

She doesn’t move or say anything, but when Rafe finally engulfs her into a hug, she doesn’t let go. It’s crazy how he’s able to make her feel absolutely worthless yet needed at the same time.

“I’m sorry, baby. Get in the car with me?”

And she goes in after him.

. . .

Rafe has never discarded a girl’s clothing faster than he unclipped the hook of her bra.

(Y/N) sighs, still so sore from yesterday’s activity, but she wanted this more than before.

She had never thought about how hot her boyfriend looked when intoxicated, but after tonight’s party, all she wants is to have all parts of him.

Rafe helps her down to her knees, piling her (H/C) hair up into a high ponytail and letting her fingers wander around the waistband of his boxers. He throws his head back, the anticipation killing him.

“Quick, quick, come on,” he grunts, opening half of his eyes to see if they’ve got an audience. The bathroom seems deserted, and he looks down at her again.

She starts with her kitten licks on his tip, watching as he squirms and his breathing becoming heavier. She likes it like this; she feels totally in control.

“Don’t tease,” he groans, tugging her chin up so she can look into his eyes. “You know better, baby, come on.”

She takes him whole, and he can feel himself hitting the back of her throat. He groans, throwing his head back because the feeling still amazes him every time.

She grazes her teeth against his member, sending vibrations throughout his whole body and he has never felt this amazing before. He groans, stopping her movement with his hands before he could get sent into complete oblivion.

“What’s wrong?” she pouts, and that’s enough for Rafe to pick her up and throws her against the sink. She yelps, but her heart is thumping excitedly.

“Wait, wait, you can’t,” she whispers, holding his prying hands into a halt before he can touch her in the throbbing areas. She bites her lips, “I’m sore, remember?”

“I’m not gonna let you touch me without letting me touch you back,” he grunts. 

He wants all of her.

Please.

“Rafe, we can’t,” she chuckles, turning herself forward so she’s directly facing him. 

“I’m sure you can handle it,” he whispers, pushing her against the door and letting her breath tickles his jaw. He can’t handle another few more hours of not touching her; he’ll go absolutely crazy in any minute.

His hand trails down to her aching core, and he watches as she jolts upright.

“Are you sure you don’t want this, baby?” he coos, “Because you’re wetting my hands.”

 (Y/N) attacks his lips with so much force he topples backward, and Rafe’s back hit one of the stalls’ door. He groans, feeling himself getting harder than ever, and pulls her away with his fingers around her neck.

“Do that again, and I’ll make sure this is the last time I’ll be fucking you.”

Before she can reply to his snarky remark he turns her over so her front is pressed against the door. She groans, cheeks flat against the blue door.

Rafe brings one hand slowly up to her neck while the other trails down to her core, collecting her juices with his fingers before he brings them up to her pink lips. He gets closer to her ears, his own mouth watering.

If she ever thinks he would stop, she’s completely in the wrong.

“So wet for me, baby,” he whispers, playing his fingers against her lips and watching as she struggles to taste herself. “So eager for me?”

“Please, Rafe, do something.”

Rafe groans, his cock swelling painfully. Oh, he loves listening to her pleas and her begs. He can come undone from all of that hassle.

Her own hands grab the one playing with her lips and bring it closer to her pussy, and she sucks in a breath while pressing his fingers into herself. Rafe bites his lips, being so close against her he’s basically fucking her through his pants.

She knows how to move against him, and it drives him crazy. His lips are slightly parted as he watches her fuck herself with his fingers, soaking his own digits with her juices. The bathroom is now filled with her lewd noises, and Rafe wishes this moment will never end.

“People are going to hear us,” she complains, but she doesn’t do any effort to stop his fingers from entering her. She throws her head back against his shoulder, and Rafe uses the opportunity to leave a trail of wet kisses down to her neck. 

“Let them,” he whispers. “Spread your legs, baby, come on.”

She doesn’t do anything, still so absorbed with the euphoric feeling starting to form in her stomach. Rafe groans, hating it when his requests are getting denied, and stops her hands from forcing his into her.

“Why’d you stop?” she moans, half annoyed when the familiar knot starts to dissipate into the thin air.

“You’re getting comfortable,” he replies, and before she can say anything else, his hands quickly pull her skirt up to reveal her glistening pussy under the orange lights of the bathroom.

“No panties?” he licks his teeth, waiting.

“Just making it easier for you,” she shrugs, and Rafe almost comes to his end at the sight of her all smug and proud. He wishes for nothing other than to wipe that look off her face, but he kind of likes it on her. 

Rafe pushes himself into her and hears as she squirms from his size. After so many times they had done the deed, he would have thought she would have gotten used to him. It gives him a certain pleasure when she does the same reaction when he first enters her.

Rafe pushes up one of her knees, widening her up, and starts going at her at a much faster pace. The sex with Rafe always ends up rough, but tonight’s leaves some kind of a different feeling in her.

“You like that?” he whispers, tightening his grip around her neck. “You feel so good around me, baby.”

She doesn’t reply, still so high from the exaltation as she presses herself more against him if that’s even possible to reach her high. She moans against his shoulder, shutting her eyes and feeling her hot tears wetting her cheeks.

“Mhm,” he grumbles. “I know baby, come on. Let me help you.”

Rafe’s orgasm explodes as he lets out the hottest moan ever, filling her up with his seed and feeling her clench around him. 

There is no doubt that this girl is absolutely driving him insane.

And he loves every part of it.

She melts into him as she reaches her high, head thrown back and lips parted, and Rafe involuntarily wipes the tears pooling under her eyes. She opens her eyes once she’s finally regained her balance, helping herself off Rafe and pulling her skirt down.

She places a soft kiss against his cheeks, feeling so tired she can pass out in the toilet. She walks to the sink with Rafe’s arms around her waist, still so unsure if she’s fit enough to walk on her own. 

She looks up at Rafe through the big mirror, watching as he stares down at her fingers under the running water.

“How do you know where I am?” she asks, tilting her head to one side. “How do you know I’m in the club?”

Rafe’s eyes go back to focus on her mesmerizing orbs. After a while, he answers back. “Why? Are you cheating on me?”

“You know it’s not like that, Rafe,” she sighs, closing the tap and pulling a cheap tissue paper from the side. “I’m here for my friend’s birthday party.”

He doesn’t reply, and she bumps her shoulder against his.

“You’re not stalking me, are you?”

Rafe pulls her against him and breathes into her scent, “Of course not. It’s just fate that I met you here.”

She caves in and pulls him in for another kiss. 

. . .

Is it normal to feel watched at all times?

The typing motion stares back at her as she tilts her head at the computer screen. She really doesn’t get it. 

Her phone vibrates against the dining table, and she answers the call without a glance at the name. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey, Tops? What’s up?” She greets, finally cracking a smile after a whole day of being worried over being watched. 

“I’m wondering if you’d like to help me out with a gift I bought for Sarah. You know, since you’re a girl.” 

She stays in her position, her mind fleeing back to a certain brunette she had just kissed an hour ago. 

Would he be okay with this? 

It’s not like she’s cheating on him. It’s just helping a friend out. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be at your house in a few minutes.” 

Rafe has been nothing but a sweetheart to her. There may be some times his issues accidentally slipped in, but she was gentle with him. She caressed him until he was okay again, and they never spoke of it again. 

She glances at the red mark around her arm from Rafe’s grip a week ago, and grimaces. 

“Hey, Tops, sorry I’m so late. I stopped by for gas just now.” 

Topper smiles, allowing her into his mansion and motioning her to the living room. A few gifts wrapped in purple and pink wrapping paper stare back at her, and (Y/N) widens her eyes. 

“Holy shit, you’re truly a great boyfriend.” 

Topper laughs, patting the empty seat beside him and pushing a small velvet box in her hands. “What do you think?” 

“Is this for Sarah?” She smiles, showing her pearly white teeth. Topper can’t help but notice the dimples on her face. 

“Yeah. Do you like it?” 

“Yeah, I love it,” she nods, moving the small box around to get a better view of the ring under the light. “She’s a lucky girl.” 

Two hours later, Topper holds the door open for her as she smiles at him. From a distance away, they look like a couple in love. 

It’s no surprise that a certain figure a few cars away is clenching his fist and jaw whilst staring at the two of them. 

“Thanks, (Y/N), you’re the best,” Topper sighs, pulling her into a side hug. “Give Rafe a hug for me, yeah?” 

(Y/N) laughs, pushing his shoulders playfully and walking down the steps to her own car. “I always know there’s something between you two.” 

She doesn’t feel like driving back home and decides to stop by at an ice cream place to get herself a milkshake, even when it’s already 10 p.m. 

She likes it when she’s all alone on the island at this time of the day as she’s free to do anything she wills. She drives straight to the store, oblivious to the black jeep following her from behind. 

“Can I get an oreo milkshake?” She smiles, watching as the cashier nods and goes back to the back to make her milkshake. She opens her phone, and taps on the first name on her contact. 

Hey, I miss you :) 

A few seconds later, her phone dings. 

Rafe: Did you have fun? 

“Your milkshake.” 

(Y/N) jolts up to the sudden voice, and smiles apologetically at the cashier before getting her drink. 

Have fun? What? 

“You didn’t reply to my text.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Rafe!” She exclaims, holding her hand out for support on the counter. She glances at the cashier, but he seems to be in the back again. “What are you doing here?” 

Rafe looks down at her and god, she has never felt so small than ever. She gulps and places her drink down, because this is slowly starting to make sense. 

“Rafe, are you stalking me?” 

He doesn’t reply, but it’s enough for (Y/N) to turn on her heels back to her car. 

The constant feeling of being watched. The random motions outside of her window and the pair of eyes she felt everywhere when she was out with some friends. 

“Wait, wait, (Y/N)!” He groans, pulling her hands and halting her walk. “Please don’t leave, okay?” 

“How can you do this? Don’t you trust me enough?” She yells. His jaw tightens, and she involuntarily takes a step back. “Rafe, you’re scaring me.” 

“I’m just protecting you, alright?” He grunts, “And what the fuck are you doing at Topper’s house?” 

Oh. So this is what everything’s about. 

“None of your business,” she shoots back, and with a final thrust, she frees herself from his grasp. 

Rafe laughs, wetting his lips. Before she can say anything else, he pushes her against her car door and watches as she squirms. 

“You’re my fucking girlfriend, of course it’s going to be my business.” 

There’s no way out of this, not when everything she’ll say will be regarded as a lie. Unless. . .

“Yeah, I fucked Topper,” she whispers, cheeks pressed against the cold metal surface of her car. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Hm,” he sighs, and flips her over in a swift. She yelps, having to face him directly now, and all of her brief confidence dissipates into the air. 

“Wanna say it again?” He whispers, his lips so close to her skin she can feel his heat. 

She stares into his eyes again, feeling so scared now that he’s got her cornered, but the exciting feeling growing inside of her seems to outweigh all her fear. 

“I fucked your best friend.” 

“Wrong answer,” he answers, and pulls the car door open before pushing her in. 

Rafe’s lips attach themselves against her collarbones as she grunts softly, pulling on his hair and fighting against every energy in her to push him away. 

But she seems struck by his touch again. She can’t let go. 

“Wanna get so smug on me again?” He groans, fingers trailing down to the button of her jeans before he pops it open. 

(Y/N) throws her head back against the seat, so engulfed in the feeling she doesn’t ever wanna let him go. Rafe notices the change in her behavior, and god knows how much it riles him up. 

“Beg.” 

“Rafe,” she grunts, “Don’t play with me right now.” 

Her hands reach for his fingers, but he slaps her hands away. 

“Do that again and I’ll fucking kill you, (Y/N), I swear to fucking God.” 

(Y/N) bites her lips, because a death threat shouldn’t leave her all perked up. 

“Please,” she whispers. 

“You know I’ll take care of you, right? And you’re going to let me take care of you. Can you do that?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Don’t see Topper again—” he tugs on her chin, “—or I’ll fucking kill you for real.” 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she nods eagerly. “Please, baby, touch me?” 

He chuckles and bends to her eye level, watching as she tries to contain herself. 

“Till death do us part?”

“Rafe—”

He grips her thigh, “Till death do us part?” 

“Till death do us part.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

[kdyism]

HIGH TENTSION.

pairing. taeyong x reader

genre + themes. camp!au, rom-com, rivals-to-lovers, pining, tinge of angst, fluff

wc. 10,037 / warn. cussing, making out, mentions of being drunk this is kinda really cliché

written for neo summer hosted by @chittapornswife​

synopsis. the last year returning to your childhood camp, you are now a counsellor and group leader, you and taeyong have a final match for the yearly house cup while trying to figure out your personal feelings towards the boy who accused you of setting the camp cafeteria on fire and pushed you down the camp-side creek.

note from yunan. supposed to be released last summer but too bad i lost my writing skills back then.

PLAYLIST ▸ senseless : phe, pH-1, thinking about you : muzie, sumin, night dream : leebada, (only) about love - demo : grentperez, cry. : kitty purrnaz, woo ah : crush

zero point one.

Your chipped fingernails itch the hem of your denim pants, regret coursing through your veins due to the UV rays burning the sweaty skin under your denim and you are pressed against the burning side of the van designated for the group leaders and counsellors. Sighing desperately, you move your chin upwards to allow your neck to breathe, Yuta driving haphazardly through the straitened driveway towards the administration office right behind the yellow buses that carry the campers. You didn’t know why you agreed to let him drive when you knew he was a sloppy driver, the number of times he didn’t almost kill you in a car would be easier to count than the times he did. 

Narrowing your eyes outside the window, you take in the view of the familiar campsite, Camp Blue Creek is your home away from home. Your name carved on the edge of the administration office reminds you of the time you and Yuta swore to marry each other at the camp after graduating high school. Only God knew that you and Yuta were the most incompatible together because he scraped his name off the next year. However, right beside your name, you glare at the clumsy scratched TY. Those were the initials of the worst part of camp. For as long as you were at camp, he follows like a moth attracted to flame with his loud mouth and unnecessary meddling. 

“Earth to Ms River.” you pull your eyes away from the craving, meeting a stubby hand dangerously close to your eyes. “We’ve all got off,” April gestures to the empty van, you didn’t notice the van coming to a stop and gasping, springing up to slam your neck against the roof of the tiny van.

“Ooff—Becareful, love,” Taeyong smiles through the window outside your seat. “Don’t call me that,” you hiss, rubbing your neck as you stagger out of the van and your denim feels cold, sending a shiver up your spine.

“You okay?” he asks, taking your bag from April and you grunt, pulling the strap from him to which he grins, shaking his head, “Come on, let me help you,” he said, his easy smile makes your blood boil and you roll your eyes, shoving him to the side.

“Don’t act as if we are chummy, Taeyong,”

Maybe you are a little mean to him but you find your bitterness to be justified. Dragging yourself away from him with your bag slinging on your side, you are greeted by a chorus of ‘Hey’ and ‘Hi’ followed by Ms River. Smiling at the group of girls aged eleven to fifteen who tag by your side almost immediately as you walk towards your accommodation at Camp Blue Creek. You spot the platter that reads ‘House River’ and fish out the key to the entrance, “Ready, girls?” you ask excitedly, getting a chortle of ‘yes’s.

Spilling into the room, you settle into the blue corduroy sofa on the side beside the one window in your lodging and sigh deeply, letting a wide grin overtake your expression. “I am seeing a couple of new faces, shall we play an icebreaker?” you inquire, skimming the faces of the girls in the room.

Standing up with a little exaggeration to your movement, you clap your hand and angle your face stating your name in a fancy accent and continuing, “I am Ms River, the group leader of House River and I am a camp counsellor this year, so you can come to me for anything at all,” you beam, twirling around and gesturing the girl nearest to you to speak. Her stark red hair, dyed and fading, immediately makes an impression on you. 

“I am Skipper, thirteen. This is my first year at camp,” she shyly said, sinking back into her seat and you gasp, doing the jazz hands, “Hana, you are her buddy! Finally, you wanted a buddy last year, didn’t you?” you grin, eyeing the girl with feather earrings and a wide smile. You love pairing up your campers with buddies, it was a tradition only House River follows to get the new campers accustomed to the way things are run. You and your buddy are still friends to this day, though April has learnt to be away from you after becoming a group leader herself. 

Hana is a new addition to your house as of last year, her chirpy energy was the thread you hung onto when Taeyong’s presence in the lodging beside yours overwhelmed you. Her ash-blonde hair and dimpled smile always raise your mood, her wanting a buddy comes out of the fact that the other girls already got buddy-ed and she couldn’t get one and was stuck to you, someone way older than her and you were always busy with your duties as group leader slash volunteer. “Hana, sit with Skipper and introduce yourself,” you said, pulling her your way by her hand and grinning her stompy feet. 

“Hi,” she gushes, rapidly waving her hands making you giggle, “I am Hana, also thirteen and I am super excited to make friends!” she said, turning to face Skipper whose cheeks reddened under the attentive eyes of Hana, “I love your hair!” Hana squeals, tying her hands together and squeezing herself beside Skipper.

As you continue with the icebreaker, a knock sounds through the wooden lodge making you jump a little and open the door being greeted by Yuta and his group of gecko boys. “It’s time for us to gather,” he yawns, covering his mouth behind his hand and you glare at him, blinking. “It’s only twelve,” you point, pushing him aside and guiding your girls outside as Yuta follows you along with his group.

“Don’t you have to go help with the arrangements at the cafeteria, camp counsellor?” Yuta inquires, lazily shading his eyes from the sun and watching his boys run towards the largest and least ancient wooden structure in the area, the common eating area that serves subpar food. “It’s not my duty,” you stretch, catching his yawn and sighing.

“I’ve got twenty in my pocket, wanna grab something good?” you glance around cautiously, Yuta nodding at your suggestion, “The closest food chain is Olive Garden though,”

“Let’s buy one spaghetti and share,” you roll your eyes, intertwine your fingers with his and drag him to the discreet pathway that leads to a resting area near the camp though it was like a thirty-minute walk away. Dragging his eyes up as the sun's heat is cut under the leaves in the woods, Yuta mumbles, “Taeyong is here,” 

Squinting to see ahead, you grunt when you spot the familiar baggy white tee and beige cargo shorts he sports. Taeyong's limpy walk beside another group leader, Johnny, sends a rush of annoyance to your head that splits in pain. Shaking your head, you tell yourself to just ignore him. His shiny dyed hair reflects sunlight, his frame being embraced by the view and you hate him, even in a world where it would be just you and him, he would make your blood boil and want to strangle him for breathing. 

“That’s it, we aren’t getting Olive Garden,” you huff, turning back as you threw your hands in the air and Yuta groans, stamping his feet, “Do you really want to eat the shit they serve?” he scoffs, still despite complaining he trails behind you. “I’d rather eat shit. No way am I following him into Olive Garden,” 

But you can’t help the way your eyes linger on him for a second too long when he beams like the world’s happiest person alive right in front of you before you tear your eyes away.

one.

Taeyong scratches his cheeks, a burn manifesting on them as he glances back to find you glaring at him. Inhaling sharply, he gulps letting out a nervous laugh towards Johnny. He knows the reason you didn’t like him because as much as he tries to help you and get on your nice side, first impressions that last for three years aren’t easy to change. 

He remembers the time he told Yuta that you and he kissed and Yuta crying while you were telling him it was a lie, he also remembers the day Yuta grabbed a knife from the camp’s kitchen and slashed away his name furiously from the administration office. Trying to make it up, twelve-year-old Taeyong carved TY beside your lonely name and you swore you would never like the person who lies about kissing people. It was his fault, no questions asked and since then he has never kissed and told (the fact standing that no one knows you have actually kissed him more than once now and no one knows from his side).

“Man, she must really hate you if she won’t even eat in the same place as you,” Johnny muses, a smirk on his face watching his friend’s saddened expression. “You should talk to her,” 

“How can I when she is always avoiding me?” he asks, pushing his hair backwards and kicking against the ground whilst they walk in the direction of the food chain. “Also, I always act so insufferable in front of her. I even won the house cup last year because she wanted to win it, I don’—”

“You just need to show her you like her,” Johnny cuts him off, slinging his arm around his shoulder and nodding thoughtfully as he goes on. “You should do something nice, show off a little and maybe make some moves,”

Taeyong knew this already. The problem was the execution. Johnny sharply turns, dragging him with him back to the camp repeating the words, ‘it’s okay, we can start now,’ a hearty laugh that fills the forest, comforting his doubts and he decides to trust him and asks, “So what do we do first?” Taeyong peers at his friends, biting his lips with wide eyes. 

“Let your presence be known,” Johnny announces, jogging to the cafeteria as the loudspeaker howls calling for lunch. 

The smell of fruity salads and grilled marinated meat is heavy, invading their senses as soon as they pull open the cafeteria’s wooden door and your bubbly laughter infiltrates his mind, eyes searching for the source and you are clapping your hands, side pressed against Nakamoto Yuta and your slightly parted lips curved into a smile, pointing at the girls around your table and he notes that House Blue Gecko has moved their table to be right beside yours. You are always smiling around your girls and Yuta, he knows that the two of you are best friends; ever since his accidents, you and Yuta have never been said to be a couple, no one ever talks about the two of you out of the platonic light. 

“Earth to Taeyong,” he hears, April smiling at him mischievously, “If you stare at her that much, she’ll be creeped out,” she sings, pushing his shoulders down and making him sit at his table.

“Uh, you’re right,” Taeyong shakes his head, capturing your attention by the sound of him slapping his cheeks harshly and greeting his house finally.

“God, he is so weird,” you roll your eyes, pulling your eyes away from him after studying his rosy cheeks that almost make you squeal.

“You’re weirder, you laughed at me farting and burping out ABC’s,” Yuta laughs, pushing your hair away from your face. “Oh, by the way, our lodging is farther from you this year,” he locks eyes with you, pooping a crispy chip into his mouth and nodding, “House Blue Jay is beside you and House Blue Heron took the big one since they won the cup,”

“Ugh, I am so mad, don’t talk about the cup,” you swat your hand on your forehead, exasperatedly looking at the cup that sits in the centre of the cafeteria inside a glass casing and breaking into your view, you notice Hana staring at your left hand’s wrist and you ask, “Hana, you want to ask something?” 

“You got a tattoo?” she smiles, leaning over the table and running her finger across the inked skin of your wrist. “Is this an insect or a bird?” she asks, her eyes sparkling as they pull you in. 

Chuckling at her, you shake your head and explain, “This is not an insect, it’s a bird,”

Yuta smirks beside you and asks, “It’s pretty neat, right?” slapping his side, you roll your eyes and add, “Mr Gecko here dared me to get this if I don’t win the cup. But now, I think this is pretty cute,” smiling down at your tattoo, you momentarily forget what the bird represents and Yuta snickers, “It sure is cute, isn’t it, Ms River?”

 “Oh, ple—” 

“Newcomers and returnees! Welcome to Camp Blue Creek, where we welcome all things blue and enjoy the sound of running water beside the creek!” the camp director laughs, awkwardly meeting your eyes and skimming towards the other group leaders and staff, “Every year we like to collect points and reward our campers with new and exciting facilities for their enthusiastic competition and let’s give it up for last year’s winners, House Blue Heron!”

A flurry of ‘woo’s and ‘boo’s sounds, Taeyong standing up from his seat and clapping for his boys with a timid smile and the C.D asks, “What do you have to say as the winner’s of the Blue Cup?”

“Um, we plan to win it again and remind everyone, who the real winners are,” Taeyong offhandedly comments, his eyes locking with yours and you feel a gush of competition fill you. “Oh, he is challenging me,” you sneer, scoffing as the C.D begins talking again.

“I am so winning that cup,” you declare, the girls of House River watch you and you determinedly grin, “Let’s win ourselves the big house next year,”

two.

“Oh fuck, I forgot they were all sporty,”

The wind blows gently embracing you and your girls while you watch House Blue Heron excelling at dodgeball and Yuta’s house being pummeled. Tying your arms across your chest, you sit on the bench outside the netted ball ground and glance at your girls. You mentally sigh, you wish you could change your schedule but unfortunately, they were set by age group and you run on the same schedule as House Blue Heron. 

“Are we going to play?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at your kids and laughing weakly at their lack of response. “Want to go bracelet making instead? We can sit this out,” you suggest, propping your hands on the bench and leaning upwards towards them and getting a show of hand, obviously they’d rather do that than get slammed by a rubber ball.

Smiling at them, you push yourself off the bench and call out Yuta’s name, gesturing him to the mess hall right beside the ground. Taeyong catching the exchange couldn’t keep his mouth shut and scoffs, asking, “Running away, love?” a shit-eating smirk settles on his face and you curl your fingers in, rolling your eyes. “As if you could do better at bracelet making,” you hiss, throwing your finger at him.

Johnny giggles, breaking the tension as he pulls your eyes towards him and his huge body curling in a shy manner. “Is something funny?” you ask, bending sidewards to observe his shaking shoulders. Vigorously shaking his head, he responds, “N-no, it was my head making a joke and man, I am so funny,” he laughs, tousling his hair away from his eyes.

Sighing at him, you roll your eyes strutting away from them and remind yourself that his friends’ are all probably as insufferable as him. 

The girls keep the door open for you, watching your bitter interaction with the group leader of House Blue Jay and you scoff, you didn't get along with any of the other group leaders other than Yuta and April. You blame yourself because you knew you were picky with friends but even more when it came to people you didn't like, Taeyong being on the top of that list was definitely not accidental. 

You wish you could turn off the part of your brain that was always on him; whether it be thirsting over how sexy he looks under his white shirt or how infuriating he is when his smirk makes you weak all while he is also actively provoking you to a fist-fight. It was the fact you couldn’t just feel one emotion towards him, the influx of emotions instead that he erupts in you—from anger to annoyance to embarrassment to making you blush at your thoughts. He had a power over you that you didn’t want to accept he had, one that wins over your hate for him.

In Yuta’s words, “You are in denial of the fact you might be in love with him.”

You settle your girls in a table and search the materials required for bracelet making, noting the House Blue Jay's boys delicately working their way through the bracelet making. With an easy smile, you walk over to the boys and greet them cheerily, “Hi, boys,” you sit in the empty seat beside them and ask, “When do you think I can have materials for this?” 

“How about after a rafting match with Taeyong this evening?” you hear, Suh Johnny's boyish voice invading your ears. “Yeah?” you chastise him, “How about a n-no?” you fake a stutter, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh don't be like that,” he whines, sitting beside you and propping his arm behind your chair. “Taeyong is a decent guy once you've known him,” 

Pursuing your lips together, you exaggeratedly nod your head and furrow your brows, “Hm, interesting of you to say that. He must really be a nice guy,” you lock your eyes with Johnny and ask again, “We just want the bracelet making kit, when can we have it?” 

Johnny sighs, giving up. “How many bracelets are done, boys?” he asks, and they begin counting, seven done and three in progress. “Well, then give us a few and you'll have the kit,” 

“Thank you,” you smile chastely at him, walking away bur before you could ignore him he says, “You know, Taeyong absolutely sucks at rafting,” 

And that was the beginning of an intense showdown between you and Lee Taeyong, masterminded by Suh Johnny and commentary by Nakamoto Yuta. 

“Heh, you are so dead bro,” Yuta snickers, a smirk on his face. His hawaïen shirt dancing with the wind and the rafts making beats by clattering against each other. “I didn't need your commentary, Yuta,” you grunt, rubbing your hand harshly over your eyes. 

The weather is shitty, your mood is shitty and the entire week has been shitty because a certain cretin by the name of Johnny decided he was going to be more annoying than Lee Taeyong to the point that you would rather his company over Johnny's. “This weather will be the end of my and rafting's relationship,” 

“Don't tell me you're afraid,” Taeyong chirps in beside you, his gorgeous grin swallowing his entire face and puncturing your lungs before you catch yourself and bite your tongue from cooing. “I accepted the match and I am not a quitter,”

“Whatever you want,” Johnny shrugs, “Anyway, we need to leave before the C.D sees,” 

You and Taeyong wear safety pads, turning the rafts over and taking each ore in your hands, Yuta behind yours and Johnny behind Taeyong’s to push the two of you into the shaky waters when the counts stop. “First to go and come back from the other end wins!” Johnny raps, “three, two,” Yuta pushes you slightly snd with the sound of one, you are dropped to the sea. 

Gripping the ores tightly, you use all of your arm's strength to row you forward, eyeing Taeyong's swiftness from the side and the disturbed waves begin to get to you because you weren't a strong swimmer. Holding your breath and pushing forward, you row and row and row until suddenly, with a clang you bump against the little guiding light and your raft loses balance, your weight shifting to the side and you topple over. 

Thankful for the pads, you shake your legs urgently to hold yourself up and Taeyong notices. Grunting, you struggle to swim to the other shore before he rafts beside you but he was there before you were even a mile away from your original falling spot. “Hah, here to make fun of me?” you sneer, letting him pull you up from the waters and he smiles tightly, “Of course not, I think you did your best,” he reassures you. However it only made you more infuriated and as you neared the other shore, you push yourself off the raft and Taeyong quietly shrieks, almost losing balance and a wave hits you as you laugh at him, choking your throat and you push your body to the shore. 

Laying down with closed eyes, you regret giving into Johnny's obvious schemes. You knew Taeyong wasn't a weak rafter and yet, for the sake of winning something you said okay and even pushed the match to a week away to get some practice and yet. You bite your inner cheek and hold your breath, to calm your wavering heart. 

“Oh god, did she swallow too much water?” you hear Taeyong's panicked voice and you flitter your eyes open, locking with him, his face nearing yours even though you were clearly alive and he kisses you softly, almost breathlessly, like a drizzle falling on at a time and watering down the walls of your heart, you push him away, springing up. 

“What was t-that for!” you blush, stammering over your words and Taeyong's expression mirrors you, “W-why'd you kiss me, you bit—” 

“I am sorry!” he cuts you off and moves away from your sight, Johnny's are you okay pulling your attention as he and Yuta (who had an abysmal smirk on) come by with a proper boat and Taeyong avoids your gaze for the rest of the day. 

One thing you were positive about, he totally knew you didn't need CPR because he didn't even check your pulse. 

“Admit it that you enjoyed it,” Yuta said, wiggling his eyebrows and groaning, why did it have to happen in front of Yuta! 

three.

Camp lasts for three weeks before you go back to your regular summer break and prepare to work on your summer assignments and somehow, a week and a half has already passed and another week and a half is left. 

It irks you how attached you were to this place, these dusty, ancient wooden buildings that just sat there and didn't have anything to do with you other than for three weeks every year till now, you didn't know what caused your attachment to it. “Fuck man, I can't believe this is my last year,” you mumble, nibbling on ice scream and leaning against April. 

April sighs beside you, “What will I do without you and Nakamoto?” she asks, blankly staring at the glistening sunset in the waters in front of you. “Yuta will keep coming here,” you lazily said. 

“He won't if you aren't there,” she glances at you, “He might be in love with you,” 

“April, that is so dated,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and staring at the waters. “It's not carbon-dated yet, so it can happen,” she argues. 

“Never, he is like my brother from another mother,” 

“Babe, I am messing with you. Yuta would date a carp over dating you,” 

“Exactly, his taste is questionable,” and with that the two of you go silent again, staring at the shining multicoloured waters, reflecting the sky. 

The two of you are sitting on a bench, admiring the view as the final roll call is done and now all that's left is leaving the kids to sleep. Much of the activities have already been done, five points with House Blue Heron and three with House River. It annoys you the fact it is a two-point difference and you are on the losing end. 

“I want that cup to be my last legacy,” you said dramatically and April nods, “That's some exciting goal,” she smiles, “But what about Taeyong?” 

“Ugh that pest,” you blush lightly remembering the last time you had a vis-a-vis with him because since then your heart has been hammering and your lungs have given up on breathing around him. 

In Yuta's words, “You are in denial of the fact you are in love with him,” 

You call bullshit but it totally made sense. He wasn't any better than before, you always knew he was a nice guy and it was your antagonisation of him that made him be this hated by you. Literally, no one in the world could hate Taeyong and you are pretty sure someone ran a petition to get him personal guards when he broke a bone down a stair because someone was being clumsy. Everyone loves Taeyong but not you. 

Tears bubbling in his eyes, his lashes heavy due to them, Taeyong cries, “Why did I have to fall for her when she won't even like me back?” his words are muffled inside the pillow that he stuffed his face into but Johnny hears it word to word. 

“Don't cry, Tyong,” he pats his back, this is the third time it happened this week. “She is making me cry, I can't stop,” 

Taeyong sobs, his eyes softening and looking at Johnny. “Did you hear she won't be coming back here after this year?” he asks, “This is my last chance to woo her and she is definitely done with my shit now,” Taeyong said, his cheeks stained with tears and Johnny suddenly feels a light bulb moment, taking Taeyong’s hand in his. 

“Let's get you a redemption arc, Lee Taeyong!” 

Said redemption arc came in the form of campfire night for the group leaders, lead by Suh Johnny, commentary by Nakamoto Yuta. 

“He is totally depressed, lonely, heartbroken and thinking he must give up on you now,” Yuta said monotonously, leaning his shoulder against yours and looking directly at the duo of Johnny and Taeyong, who looked way worse off than you. “If this wasn't camp, you would've been wrecked by the TY FC,” 

Perking your ears, you muse, “TY FC?”

“Taeyong Fanclub, obviously. He has the entire school in his palms and the poor boy decides to fall for the one person who hates his guts while being in denial,” he said, his eyes furrowing in an act of sorrow and you jab your elbow into his side, accidentally locking eyes with the boy whose heart you broke (though somewhere in you, you think you broke your own heart by your stupidity). 

“Set up the fire guys!” April calls as she finally makes her appearance and breaks the awkward tension between you and Taeyong's current disposition. “Move your chairs closer guys, it's scary story night! Not avoid the idiots night,” 

Quirking your brows, you let out a quizzical sound. “Yuta is the obvious idiot then,” you said, pushing him off you and dragging your foldable chair closer to the flames that April set up. It was quaintly and very autumn-like despite the summer setting of the camp. “I think you are the real idiot,” Yuta comments, placing his chair beside yours and Taeyong was there on your other side, before you could panic and it was settled in your head, let's ignore the loud heart and Taeyong.

Johnny laughs, clearing his throat and you pay attention to him. The night sky lit by the stars, the crackling fire and the sound of nature made for a beautifully haunted situation you think. “So, there was once a little girl who loved dolls,” he begins, his tone lower than usual cheery fun he spoke with. “You see she has a whole collection of them, stacked one upon another in her room at all times,” 

Yuta yawns, mumbling that it was already boring but you wouldn't believe him because he had a knack for making up weird stories. If you weren't keeping your guard up, you bet John's doll story would scare you for the rest of the week. The story went on, shrieks were heard from April, you and Taeyong respectively then suddenly, the wind blew out the flame earning the loudest scream from you yet, latching onto the person closest to you. “Oh Yuta, I am scared!” you sob, pressing your nose on his shoulder and you get thrown off by the lack of immediate teasing. 

“Um, afraid, love?” Taeyong said, smiling stiffly at you and you pull away, gasping again when Yuta's hair tickles you from beside you and you think, of course, he went to sleep. “You wish,” you pretend, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. 

Johnny announces his leave and drags Yuta with him, telling you to walk back with Taeyong while April finishes cleaning up the fire since she wasn't scared of the dolls anymore. You can't even remember the story but dread clings to you like swear under the scorching sun, you remember why you fucking hate horror movies and especially ones in the dark, in the night. 

“Are you okay?” Taeyong cautiously peeking at you while he walks a distance from you but you still notice the glint from the tear stains on his cheeks and you ask, “Are you okay?” back. 

“What do you mean?” he bites his lips, looking away from you and you mirror him, tying your hands behind your back like him and matching your pace to his. “Did I make you cry?” you ask, he feels an unfamiliarity in your tone but it warms his heart to see the concern. 

“Yeah but it's okay, I will get over it. Plus it makes sense, I mean I kissed you instead of CPRing you,” he brushes it off, shrugging his shoulders and you pursue your lips, watching his subtly uncomfortable stiffness. 

“Sorry about that but I still don't like you very much,” you said, patting his side in an act of comfort. Turning to face him as you arrive in front of your house cabin, you gently smile at him. It might be the first time you smiled at him and he flushed, snapping his head away, in turn making you chuckle. 

Grinning, you feel a cold touch on your shoulder. A shudder runs down your spine and you turn back to find nothing, taking steps backwards and walking into Taeyong. “Did you see someone touch me?” you ask, bumping your shoulder with his, afraid out of your mind. 

“I didn't see anything,” he calmly said, holding you in front of him by your shoulders and you see it, a figure dressed in the checkered clothes of Johnny's story with wet hair and wet hands due to being drowned by her collections of dolls in revenge for drowning them under other dolls. You shriek, throwing your hands over your ears and your turn into Taeyong, whose arms wrap around you immediately, words of comfort pouring in. 

“Shhh, you're okay, there is nothing there,” he softly whispers, rubbing circles on your back. 

“Did YOU see that!” you exclaim, your eyes wide and shaky, trembling all over your body. You grip Taeyong tightly, pressing yourself against him and you whisper, “I just s-saw the girl Johnny told us about!” 

Sighing, Taeyong felt bad. Guilt was thrown at him like hailstone and he hugs you, keeping you snug against him, in his warmth and he calls your name softly. He rarely utters your name, your heart squeezes, like he squeezed the fear out by making your heart flutter but it is only your name, you remind yourself. 

Patting your back, he said, “Sorry but that's was Johnny trying to scare you,”

“What the fuck?” you spat, looking at him confusedly, “For heaven's sake, why did he pick me to scare,,” you grumble, resting your forehead on him. 

Taeyong swallows his pride, rolling his eyes at the whole plan and saying, “It was a redemption arc,” his cheeks are coated red and you press on, “What?” 

“It was a redemption arc for me to get on your good side,” he explains and you scoff, pushing him away. 

“Do you think it worked?” you ask. 

“Now that I revealed the plan, no,” he mutters quietly but you hear it anyway. 

“Well, no,” you said pointedly but you pressed a kiss on his cheeks, “It worked, the redemption arc earned by telling me the truth,” you said. 

four.

Taeyong crossed over the moon when you kissed his cheek and it was all he could talk about for days before Johnny snapped him back to reality with a eureka. 

“Dude, this is it,” Johnny grins, rubbing his hands together and Taeyong asks, “What is it?” 

“The way to win Miss River's heart in one step,” he teases, slinging in arms around Taeyong and he said, “Tell her everything that is the truth behind the reason she hates you,”

“You mean like the explanation for the shit I did?” Taeyong widens his eyes, it seems to click. This was it, “Johnny you are a genius!” 

And thus he came to the conclusion, the redemption arc is essentially honesty is the best policy arc. 

He had asked Johnny to send for you, to the creek beside the camp that he hangs out at whenever he was overwhelmed. An honest conversation was what he was looking for and when you walked in looking confusedly at him, you said 'hi' instead of ignoring him like usual. Taeyong puffs his cheeks, awkwardly smiling at you.

His feet gently being embraced by the flowing creek, he thinks it was the only part of his body that wasn’t on fire as you roll your eyes at the ground beside him before you take a seat. “It's so freaking cold! How are you sitting here?” you jump a little and settle down again, not wanting to look weak in front of him.

“So, speak up,” you lock eyes with him, raising your brows and wearing an unamused expression on your face. “Johnny said you were going to clear up the air?” 

“Um yeah,” he laughs quietly, scratching the skin of his knees. You honestly couldn’t read him. Not since he kissed you after the rafting match, not since he held you like you were the most precious thing while hiding from a fake ghost and maybe, not since ever. You couldn’t read Lee Taeyong and if he wasn’t going to speak you are forever going to judge him through the shitty reviews left of the cover of his book that wasn’t related to the substance his pages held. Taeyong isn’t a book obviously but it was the only way you could thread your patience together for him right now.

“Johnny said I should come clean,” Taeyong said, his voice carrying the weight of his embarrassment and to say the least you enjoyed the shades of it that appear along his cheeks and neck. “I am sorry about blaming you for the fire but I have no excuse and also huh, about lying to Yuta about kissing you but I really liked you and I hated Yuta for—” 

“—Woah, slow down. That’s a confession!” you gasp, eyes as if they were saucers and your jaws weaken. Forget the fire but you are Taeyong’s first love, you realize and you feel your body tingle in excitement.

“Winning the cup and fighting over it was only for your attention, then it became a habit because you didn’t talk to me unless it was about that,” he said in a breath and you nod slowly, interesting development, you thought and you look away from him as he looks like he was about to combust.

Sucking his lips in between his teeth, Taeyong takes a deep breath and went on, “Also, about pushing you down from here,” he looks at you nervously, his cheeks fully blushing and you begin feeling the heat when his fingers find their way towards you. His hand gripping your arms, eyes desperate. “I didn’t mean to push you but you were suddenly super, super close to me and I was like going through with the worst, uh um, sexual awakening because you and paaanicked,” 

Blinking once, twice and one more time, you narrow your gaze and drop your jaws with a heavy scoff, “So, that’s confession two,” you nod, gesturing with your hand to continue because you were too far gone to react. Your head was blaring with hypotheticals. If you didn’t hate him, you might’ve dated him. His first love, his sexual awakening and potentially—No, you stop yourself from assuming and turn your upper body towards him, teasingly leaning into his space. “You have been thinking about me for quite a while,”

“S-sorry if that’s weird,” he shyly said, leaning back and you smile, raising your brows. 

“What about all the drunk kisses?” you ask, remembering the number of times you were frustrated because of his chaste pecks that left you hanging during the worst high school parties ever. “Ah those, I didn’t want to push you away or take advantage because I knew you didn’t like me, so I kissed you to satisfy both our horny teenage needs.”

“Yup, didn’t satisfy me at all, you suck at kissing by the way,” you said, rolling your eyes and melting internally because of how nice he was when he knew you didn’t like him in the first place.

“That’s not true,” he retorts, leaning close to your face. Not even a hair away, his breath against your lips, he said, “I’ve been told I am a pretty good kisser,”

Scoffing at his audacity to bring up other people, you jab your fist on his chest, “Don’t kiss and tell, it pisses me off,” you said honestly, your head burning up and you realize, Taeyong was fever inducing. He made your body feverish, the same dizziness you feel when your head is all hazy and heated, no thoughts make sense and you can tell that you're sick. He was the same, except all you could tell was he had some kind of power over you right now. 

Taeyong's shy lashes settle on the skin of your cheek, his head slightly tilted and his hand begins to make way up to your face. Cupping you delicately, without a moment to spare, his lips are against yours and you melt into his hands, responding to his kiss as if in synch. Taeyong's lips were pink, always looking so kissable and god, dear god, you felt like a petal was being brushed against you, his lips were soft but not for long. You shouldn't be kissing him like this though. You shouldn't be kissing as if you are lovers. 

He bites your lower lip, tongue gliding over it in a way to ask for permission and you whimper, unable to deny him. You were weak against him once you've fallen. You try to pull away, immediately softened by the little groan that escapes his lips and you kiss him again. Teeth clashing clumsily, he chuckles softly and creases your cheeks, pushing your hair away while pressing butterfly kisses across your face, making his way to every crook and cranny. Your hands wrap around his neck, pressing your lips on his once again and he pulls away, staring into your dazed gaze. 

“God, y-you're making me senseless,” Taeyong whispers and his fingers brush against your waist, your breath makes a sharp reverse as his nose settles in the crooks of your neck while his swollen lips took nips of your skin. Your mind short circuits, Taeyong’s fingers sending electricity throughout your body in a way that curves your thoughts from being transported through your neurons. 

“Taeyong, s-slow down,” you gasp, dragging your lips against his. Eyes drinking up your flushed form, he feels shudders run down his back and the chill of the night in the forest didn’t help with the trembling. His heart rattling in his chest felt louder than the words you were whispering against his ears, the warmth of your breath ironically makes him want to do the exact opposite of your words, “Taeyong, let me go,” you sneer, your fists pushing him away and he realized the tone that came back.

Here we go again, he thought, back to square one.

“One kiss doesn’t give you the green light to make out with me, you idiot!” scramming away from him with heated cheeks, you feel your lips with your fingers; he kissed you deeper than before, you think, it was kinda nice but maybe it was his touch that made it even better. Sighing to yourself, you press your back against the wooden wall of the mess hall and throw your palms towards your cheeks, “Now is not the time to gush over how good of a kisser he is!” you grumble. From the periphery of your eyes, you spot the awfully craved TY beside your name and you groan as your heart accelerates at the idea of him being in love with you your entire lives.

You almost couldn’t find a reason to hate him now that he has explained all of his actions. It was cute in retrospect but the annoyance didn’t fail to stir in you when you thought of the things he did, especially blaming the fire at the cafeteria on you. Johnny might’ve been right about him being a decent guy once you’ve known him but Taeyong was more than decent, he was the sweetest guy you’ve met minus the memory of his younger self. “God, can this get any messier?”

“Yeah, babe, where’ve you been?” April frowns, breaking your line of thought and it hits you like a block—you just skipped roll call for the night when you are responsible for the lives of your dear campers at House River.

five.

April messes with you on a daily and you still fall for her tricks. 

She covered for your roll call and successfully had Taeyong be in trouble alone, minus three points off his house making him and you tie at six-six. Whatever happened between you and Taeyong last night, you want to forget because it gives you massive heartache and an incredibly painful twisting in your stomach, you might call it butterflies but it was painful because well, you just went three steps back the moment you pushed him away and pretended you didn't kiss him twice on your own devices. 

And now it was The Two-days One-night camping event. The thing you looked forward to every year as a camper yourself. It was easily the most exciting since you would make your tents and have a sleepover, eat s'mores, have a campfire barbecue and you think it will put a lid on your time as a Camp Blue Creek camper, you will be retiring from being Miss River. However, there was an everlasting flaw in the most perfect day ever just as usual. 

House Blue Heron and House River house the same age range of kids and so share almost all activities. Perfect because it was just the person you wanted to see, Lee Taeyong and the looming memory of you running away when you are pretty sure you hinted at liking him too at this point. If he gives up because of last night, it would break you but damn, would it make sense. 

“Hello,” you said, waving at him. 

You never do that, “Hi, I heard you almost got in trouble?” he asks and you shake your head nervously, “No no, April covered for me,” 

“I wish I had a roommate then, it seems fun and helpful,” he pouts, adorably pushing out his pink lips and god, you are starting to sound like a creep. Pinching your arms, you walk to your kids and begin helping them, remembering that the last activity that will determine the fate of the House Cup lies in the tent set-up; who does it faster and the best. 

“Hana, Skipper,” you call, noting the bright red hair almost fading. “I will help the two of you with the tents, come on,” you smile. 

You inform the girls in your house to hurry and do it well to win over House Blue Heron, you take out the pieces of the tent and start pushing in the thin poles that will keep the tent from being like a blanket and more like a roof. “Is this the last competition?” Taeyong asks, appearing from nowhere and you nod, “This is our spot, so piss off,”

Ruffling his hair, Taeyong walks back to his group and you sigh at yourself, you just had to close your mouth and the tension would fix itself. Talking to him came easy when you were not in your head about him. Everything he did is inherently annoying and not even your common sense can tell you otherwise. Helping with the kids’ tents, bringing our barbecue gear, setting up camp around the boxed bonfire sight and all the while, the way his gaze circles back to you at the same moment you take a glimpse of him. You are quickly more conscious of him than you’ve ever been.

The shadow of his movement tickles the skin under your house shirt, the denim jean and the hair on your neck sits out. “Yuta,” you say, taking his hands in yours and you sigh heavily at his gaze because his hooded gaze tells you he knows what’s on your mind. “Olive Garden, please?” 

“Lead the way,” he smiles, swinging his arm around your shoulder and you drag him to the dirt path that guides you to the rest stop where it was. Limping due to the weight of him on you, you decide to start speaking before you even go halfway into the forest path. 

“So, we kinda made out and pretended as if I didn’t let him,” you blurt in one breath, stretching your lips in a stiff smile and Yuta hums, “What else is new?” 

“Don’t,” you glare at him, already seeing where he was going with this but he went on anyway.

“You have been doing this since forever, you have kissed him in every party you’ve been to and you’ve been to almost all of them,” he pauses, turning to face you and you slump your shoulders because you couldn’t deny it. You call yourself stupid often in your head but man, it was showing proof now. “Listen, I know I am always teasing you but damn. Oh man, oh man, are you in denial if you think you aren’t into him already,” Yuta breaths heavily, pulling you into a hug and you sigh, “Thinking about him all the time doesn’t mean shit,” you state, blushing at your confession.

“Yeah, it means you’re batshit crazy,” Yuta slaps your side and groans, utterly tired of you. “You and he are going to hold hands, hug and make up or else, say bye-bye to whatever you are feeling because you won’t have an excuse to talk to him after this if you do hate him like you say you do, Miss River,” Yuta’s gaze softens, your frowning face wasn’t something he saw often and he would rather not see it. 

“You make the move now,” he ends, walking away from you with a loud sigh.

six.

Your eyes linger on your tattoo, a blue heron. 

It was last year after camp when Yuta concluded your constant annoyance with Taeyong is because you were secretly in love with him but didn’t want to accept it. Taeyong lives and goes to the same school as you but you still don’t see him much because of your differences and the parties where you catch a glimpse of him, girls all over him and his embarrassed rejection of them, it pissed you off why you thought about so much when you have nothing to do with him. You mind your business, going about your regular school life, taking classes and passing with enough and enjoying the rest of the time goofing around with Yuta, whom you knew separately because your parents work together.

Taeyong is a nobody to you.

“Are you sure you won’t go all kissy monster on him again?” Yuta laughs, driving up to the curb outside the weekend party house. Rolling your eyes, you get off his car and smile, “Of course, I don’t want a tattoo on my precious skin. Especially one that has to do with him,” you inform him, stretching your arms and grinning, “Now let’s get this party started!”

We all know what happened because obviously, you know have a blue heron that represented Lee Taeyong etched on your skin the same way he was etched into your brain. Self-reliance and self-determination, that’s what google said it represents but for you, it spells Taeyong in every stroke of its creation. Sighing, you take your hand down and stare at the top of the tent you set up with Hana and Skipper, who enter the tent with their hands full of snacks and you smile at them, “Some for me?” you bubble, trying to push away your personal feelings and sit up.

“We brought salted chips!” Hana cheers, placing a bowl of potato chips in the centre and you take a bite while saying, “Thank you,”

“I am sad tomorrow is the last day of camp,” Skipper frowns and you awe, pulling her into your side, “You can come back next year,” you comfort her, “I won’t be here but the camp is always good,”

Hana gasps hearing your words and yells, “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, this is my last year,” you explain, “I might move from here or else, I’ll have to get a job during summer,”

“No way, you are the best group leader ever! I don’t want a new one,” she whines, hugging you and you chuckle, enjoying their flattery, “Oh please, there are better leaders. It’ll be so much fun,” you stress.

You knew you weren’t leader material for one, you picked up your past leaders behaviours and guided your group but you weren’t good at it. It would look good on your resume was your first thought when you applied for it. It was fun though, so you kept being a group leader and even took up being a counsellor. While it wasn’t that much different, it was still the only time you will ever be one. You think the reason your house does well is that the girls are well adjusted and rely on themselves than on you for most of their needs. “It was fun being your group leader,” you smile widely. 

“We had fun too, watching you fight with Taeyong from Heron is always funny,” Hana said, laughing to herself. “Remember when he gave you a flower with a bug on it? It was so smart,” she shakes her shoulders while Skipper cringes, probably mirroring the expression you had on when you got the flower.

“That wasn’t funny when it happened,” you pout, Hana giggles and said, “I saw him crying after you yelled at him,” 

“It was funny when Johnny dragged him away from the front of our cabin,”

“Why did he cry,” you ask out loud and Skipper replies, “Maybe it was an accident. That it had bugs in it,”

Humming at her answer, you know that was probably it but you didn’t give him the chance to explain before you shrieked and yelled I hate you. That probably hurt him for more reason than one now that you know he has liked you since forever. Thinking back to all the hate you gave him, you had to apologize for being this mean to him all this time even when he was trying to get on your good side by helping. It might’ve been pride that kept his actions under your nose all this time but it was definitely the affection he had for you that kept him going all this time because if it were you, you would’ve hated you and avoided you forever unlike him, still clinging onto this childhood crush.

When you think of it, it was a crush that only had three weeks every year to grow and then you went back to being strangers minus the occasional drunk kisses. How did it last this long? There is no possible reason. 

Leaving the girls, you exit the tent and look around searching for the cause of all your inner turmoil as you sit in the dark. His stand-out baggy white tee catches your attention and you trudge towards him, keeping your eyes and you watch his shadows dance on the ground because you were too conscious to meet his gaze and you hesitate, “Um Taeyong,” glancing at him, you flush as his full attention is on you.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone exuding joy. “You called for me?”

“Let’s talk,” you state, you got nothing to lose anyway. All you had to do was make a move and leave yourself defenceless for once—the way he was with you despite the thorns he stabs every time he speaks to you. 

The forest that surrounds Camp Blue Creek is beautiful under the night sky. A galaxy of stars that alight the heat of your body the way it did the blue skies above. The soft sound of trickling water down the creek soothes your racing heart, the feeling of your chest jumping out of your chest that curses you in the presence of Lee Taeyong, who follows you confusedly and you sigh, curious to know what he was thinking but well, you couldn’t read him, you take his hand and pull him down the usual path to his creekside. This time, you take him to your spot. 

You haven’t been here at all this year because you were occupied by both him and Johnny this year. 

“You know, I noticed you have a tattoo,” Taeyong breaks the slice as you quietly sit on the grass beside the river, it was moist but oddly warm. “Is that a heron?” he teases, raising your wrist to inspect the tattoo and rubbing circles over it.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you bite your lips, locking your eyes with his. “It’s my house, of course, I’d know,” he says in a matter of fact way. His cheeks flustered and you kind of could tell why. 

“I am sorry,” you gulp your nerves, intertwining your fingers together and looking far into the waters. “I am not angry anymore, well, I might be but not the same way as before.” 

Taeyong blinks, watching your fiddle with your hands and he moves closer in front of you, asking, “What is this about?” 

“About you, about me?” you choke out, clearing your throat with a heavy sigh. You are tired of yourself. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you place your hands on your hips and stare into him. “About love, this is about love and well, you know what, I know bullshit about it but I know that you have put up with me because you're in love with me. Did I get that right?” you trail off, Taeyong nodding at your words and you continue. 

“I kiss you at the parties because I can't stop thinking of you even when we don't see each other outside camp. Because I see you with so many girls.” you said, pressing your lips into a thin line and Taeyong smirks, “I kind of could tell because you only ever do it to me,” 

“Also, I honestly hate your guts. For whatever you did as a kid but man, I still feel the same because it was annoying back then, how much I liked you but denied it. Now too but that's not the point,” 

You felt like your heart was going to explode, your face heating up and your body trembling, Taeyong casually taking your hands on his and you biting your tongue, tell yourself to keep going. 

“I liked when you kissed after the rafting, and also when we almost made out at the creek. I am over the moon that I am your first love even though you were stupid then. I don't know how to feel about the sexual awakening but damn, I must've been hot then. I also—” 

Taeyong calls your name in a shaky voice, making your voice crack as you stop speaking. “Do you love me how I love you is what I want to know right now because you are like, tempting me to kiss you,” he sneers, pressing his forehead against yours and you nod, “I am not if this love but maybe, if thinking about you while I am eating, thinking about you when something annoys me when something makes me fluttered, maybe I do like you but I can't tell,” 

“Then, I can guide you to love me. Outside camp, in the real world I think,” he said, “I would really like to know you more,” 

“You are welcome to but now, we leave this here because…”

“Because?” Taeyong echoes, blinking at you.

“I am grossed out that I am doing this with you,” you said, frowning your lips and he giggled, rolling his eyes, “I knew something wasn't right and it was this, you hate me,” he said, smiling eye to eye. 

“Not anymore but it doesn't make it less cringe and gross,” 

seven.

“So are you dating?” Johnny asks, sitting beside you in the mess hall as the house cup points were being counted.

“Nope, Taeyong is getting to know me and I am apparently going to fall in love with him,” you shrug, leaning over your shoulders to watch the C.D nodding his head and swiftly write down the winner as he walks up to the podium and you lace your hands together. You are pretty sure your house did the tent set up the fastest without getting distracted. You wanted that cup and not even Taeyong could take it away from you. 

“Camp Blue Creek!” the C.D bellows, “We are pleased to have the number of you join our camp and it was a blast having you do your summer activities with us. However, with the departure of Ms River of House River, we have decided to close down House River,” he continues and you gasp, springing from your seat and asking, “What does that mean?” 

“Your house is not in the pattern,” he states and you let out a confused noise, “What is the pattern?” you ask.

“House Blue Jay, House Blue Gecko,” he said, “House Blue is the pattern and you are House River, just river,”

“What about House Creek? April!” you said, pointing at your friend and she shakes her head, “No babe, I am House Blue Morpho, it was changed last year,” 

“Pay some attention to your friend would you,” she said, tying her arms and you scoff, “This is unbelievable,”

“Anyway, since House River won by one point and it is no longer, this year’s winner and yet again, HOUSE BLUE HERON!” the C.D announces and you scream, snapping your neck towards the cup and rushing to it. “No, this is mine!” you retaliate and Taeyong watches amusedly, hiding his grin behind his hands.

He always knew you were impulsively prone to embarrass yourself and two days from now, you would regret everything that happened in camp this year. You always did. He knows because while you might not see him outside the camp. He always does. In your natural habitat, with the widest smile, enjoying the presence of your friends and being helpful, less spiteful towards him and your guard down. He knew you past your camp persona and maybe that was why he gave his affection to you with a second guess because still, it was you.

“Fuck you Taeyong, I absolutely hate you. There is no way you are getting that date after we leave here,”

©KDYISM, 2021 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[rax-writes]

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Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Possibilities [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Title: Possibilities Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 6 July 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Mention of food and alcohol Summary: Tom and you have been friends for a long time and because of that same reason you value your friendship more than to ruin it with some silly feelings. But the event you attend together offers you some surprises that might change your relationship forever.

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Real People Masterlist

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Events, galas, award ceremonies. You weren't a popular actress nor a famous singer, or social media influencer. You had a simple 9-5 job that would hardly ever get you into these events. But regardless of your status in society, you were known and not because of any talent you possessed that could have made you famous, but because your best friend was none-other than Tom Hiddleston.

You have been friends for years, you adored everything about the man. He was sweet and kind, always polite, but just as playful. It was a friendship you felt lucky to be in, a friendship that you held so close to your heart, it would have broken every little piece of you if it ever ended. Often, you found yourself staring at him with a little smile in the corner of your lips, watching his every move, the way he joked around with his co-stars on set, the way he exercised in the gym for a role, the way he winked at you with a mischievous smile as he caught your eyes on him.

"Do you need my autograph?" he asked with a wide grin as he opened the door of the luxurious car he booked for the event. Once again you have forgotten your eyes on him— his dashing looks, the perfectly fitted suit, the playful twinkle in his eyes. He never stopped teasing you about it.

"Shove off, Tom," you nudged him as he got out of the car and held out a hand for you, waiting for you to accept his help. So, you did. Wrapping your fingers around his hand, you let him help you out of the vehicle as you rearranged your stunning dress and ran your hand down its length to remove any creasing. Cameras were flashing, reporters' loud voices filled the pathway to the entrance, a long red carpet leading your way inside the building towering over you like a modern castle.

"If I didn't know better, I would think your interest in me goes beyond friendship," he chuckled as he held his arm out to you, waiting for yours to be placed over his, his eyes following every little movement of yours. A sudden rush of heat travelled up to your cheeks, your breathing slightly laboured as you tried to calm your heavily beating heart. He was not wrong after all. It's been years since you have been harbouring these feelings, but you hadn't had the heart to confess them. Tom was more important to you than to ruin it over some silly feelings.

Sometimes, when you caught Tom's eyes on you, watching you intently, a soft smile spread across his face, it made you think if maybe, just maybe he was harbouring similar feelings towards you. But the idea was quickly swept away by your doubts, the thought of such an amazing man falling for you seeming impossible. You knew your worth, you didn't write yourself down, but Tom has always been perfect in your eyes, and you couldn't imagine him wanting you even if at times a certain silly part of your brain whispered otherwise.

"I love your healthy self-confidence," you finally gathered your ability to be able to reply, earning a comical huff from him. You have been trying hard, to deny your romantic interest in him, but rumours about the two of you have become a reoccurring news and it didn't help your case to shove your feelings in the back of your mind.

"Ready?" He asked as his gaze turned towards the red carpet. Heaving a heavy sigh, you nodded and murmured a 'yes' as a response.

As soon as the cameras started flashing, hundreds of photos of Tom and you being taken, you conjured a sweet little smile that the tabloids loved. You were always nervous when it came to these events. It was Tom's job to answer some of the questions journalists asked of him, which meant they were to ask about your relationship. It was becoming repetitive, making you feel uncomfortable. The questions themselves didn't bother you but repeating over and over again that the man you have fallen for is merely a friend, felt like a stab in your heart, each time you responded.

"Tom! Tom!" One of the reporters shouted his name and he led you to the side of the red carpet, halting right beside the metal cordons. Questions were flying around, photos had been taken, but you didn't concentrate. Your senses were heightened as Tom pulled you in his side, his arm now wrapped around your waist, gently, but firmly holding onto you. Looking up at him, you studied his face, his ice-blue eyes focusing on the reporter, an excited smile across his face. He seemed so relaxed, so collected, meanwhile even events after events you were still nervous. As though he could feel it, he turned to you with a soft, reassuring smile, giving you a nod, silently asking if you were alright. For others, the movement could have easily been missed, but to you, it was like an earthquake, shaking your heart, making you fall even deeper for him. In a reply, you nodded and offered him a smile as you squeezed his hand that rested on your waist.

"So, Tom, this might be a bit more personal, but everyone has been talking about the two of you," he started, and your eyes immediately darted towards the man. You knew the question, heard it a thousand times already, so you prepared your heart to give the same reply as always. 'We are just friends,' you repeated time after time, hoping they would finally understand and let you be, but they didn't seem to budge. "You have been friends for a long time, and your fans have been talking about how close the two of you have become. Do you think, maybe in the future, there's a possibility for romance to blossom?" He asked with an expectant expression, a sly smile in the corner of his lips.

"As we have said before," you spoke up, ready to reply as you always did, "we—"

"You never know what the future holds for you, there are many possibilities" Tom cut in with a mischievous smile, your eyes growing wide as you looked up at him. Tom chuckled at your expression as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "Tell me I'm wrong," he arched a brow questioningly, his words starting your heart off at a faster pace, your cheeks feeling warmer under his intent gaze, those blue eyes you often found yourself lost in.

"Well—, I mean I can't argue with that statement," you replied, feeling slightly awkward. A confused smile started growing wider on your face as Tom led you away. "Why did you do that?" You asked as you finally stepped inside the building, his arm still resting around your waist as you headed towards a large room filled with all sorts of foods and drinks, people dancing in the middle, the dim lightning offering a rather intimate mood. "You just created even more gossip," you scolded him, but seemingly he didn't mind. He led you to a table where his name was printed on a nametag and pulled the chair out for you before he took his seat beside you.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled at you as innocently as he could manage, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

"You did. Exactly because you were so secretive, people will want to read between the lines. They will think there's more to us than friendship," you huffed as you hid your face in your palm and heaved a heavy sigh.

"And is that so bad?" He frowned, earning the same expression from you.

"What?" A silent scoff left your lungs. "What are you trying to say?"

"Is that such a big problem if people think we are together?" He asked, his confident tone stunning you.

"Of course, not. I don't care what rumours are being spread about me, but I don't want them to gossip about you," you reached for his hand on the table and wrapped your fingers around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. His expression stayed emotionless; you couldn't read him entirely, but you knew he seemed off.

"I will go grab us a drink," he said as he stood up, leaving you frowning. You weren't sure what you said that made him upset, and regardless of trying to put on a straight face, you knew he wasn't happy with your response.

You watched as he walked over to a small table filled with the most delicious looking cakes and a couple of bottles of champagne, ready for the guests before they brought out the main course. Tom grabbed a battle of champagne and two glasses, filling up both halfway, before he placed the battle back into an ice bucket.

"What is it?" You asked as he returned and gave you one of the glasses.

"What do you mean?" He asked, taking a seat beside you.

"We've known each other for quite a long time. I can read you like an open book. What's bothering you?" Trying to get him to open up, you shuffled closer to him, your chair scraping the floor, turning heads in your direction. "Oops," you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, earning a chuckle from Tom.

"Very subtle," he mocked you.

"Don't change the subject Mr. Hiddleston," you raised a questioning brow, a tiny smile hidden in the corner of your lips.

"Nothing is bothering me," he added, but your suspicious gaze didn't falter. "I'm being honest, darling," the sly little fox knew his nickname for you would make you soften up and he used every opportunity to say it when he felt cornered.

"Fine," you squinted. "But we aren't done! I'm not blind, I can see something is on your mind."

"Yes, ma'am, I can't wait for this conversation to come back around," he mocked you once again, making you huff as you gently punched his shoulder.

Throughout the night, said conversation was forgotten, the alcohol consumption rose, the amount of people dancing around the room grew, meanwhile others sat at their tables, trying to digest the previously served delicious meals. You couldn't deny that you had a good laugh with Tom and his co-stars from all sorts of movies he had been in. It felt like a little family, people coming together to just have a joyous time.

The way Tom smiled at his friends, praising each other, before turning to mock one another forced your eyes to rest on his excited features. He looked so alive, so happy and the feeling of the man you loved being in his element meant everything to you. Tom was radiating enthusiasm and you couldn't look away as you watched his ever-growing smile, his nose scrunched up at an unexpected subject, his head falling back as a loud laughter erupted from his lungs. He was always handsome, but when he was happy, it filled you up with a certain warmth that you couldn't explain. Like you always wanted to make him happy just to be able to see that cheerful smile spread across his face.

He turned to you, catching your gaze on him once again. His arm sneaked behind you, pulling you closer and leaning down to your ear. "You are staring at me again," you couldn't see it, but you could feel his smile spreading wider.

"I like to see you happy," you shrugged with a soft smile as you leaned back to be able to meet his gaze. His smile faltered, but his eyes softened.

"Dance with me," he said as he offered his palm to you, and you placed your hand in it.

"I take no responsibility for broken toes," you said with a silent chuckle as you followed him to the dancefloor.

"Don't worry, darling, it's worth the injury," he mirrored your expression as you stopped in the middle of the dance floor. A slow, romantic song started playing in the background, his arms finding their perfect position around your waist as yours sneaked around his neck.

It was a slow and peaceful dance, not requiring much knowledge and talent. You just enjoyed each other's presence, gazes meeting, smiles forming, swaying to the slow rhythm of the music. You didn't speak a word, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It never was with Tom. A soft smile, a quick glance, a simple gesture meant more than thousands of words when you were with him.

You laid your head against his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat, taking on a quicker pace just like yours did. "I miss you when you are not with me," he spoke for the first time as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You didn't move away; his embrace was too comfortable, and you couldn't care about people watching you.

"I always miss you. You are the one travelling all the time after all," you chuckled lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"I could be only a mile away and I would still miss you," he replied as you pulled back a bit to meet his soft gaze, but there was no smile present across his handsome face. As the song finished, you found yourself standing in front of him, slightly confused about the conversation. "Do you want to go to the balcony? Have some fresh air?" He asked, taking on a more cheerful expression, but you knew him more than to believe it was genuine. In a response you nodded and linked your arm with his.

Following him through the sea of people, you finally arrived at the balcony, looking down to a smaller version of a park, a water fountain standing tall in its centre. You leaned against the rail as you watched the trees battling the silent wind, fallen leaves being blown across the walking path. Tom joined beside you, his eyes following the same direction as you did before they halted on your face. "You are being strange tonight," you spoke up, feeling his gaze resting on you before you turned to him, meeting his eyes.

"I'm just thinking," he added with a half-hearted smile.

"About?" You asked as you reached for his hand resting on the rail and placed yours on top of his. He turned his palm upside down and lifted your hand, hinting a small kiss on your knuckles as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Tom talk to me," you squeezed his fingers reassuringly, his eyes watching you, not leaving your gaze for a moment. "You have been rather quiet around me," you added.

His whole body turned to you, as though he was focusing his complete attention on you. Reaching towards you, he brushed your hair to the side, gently tucking it behind your ear. You leaned into the touch involuntarily, only realising your actions when he caressed your cheek with his thumb, before moving down and running it across your lips. The feeling burnt you, starting your mind off in a very dangerous territory, one that you have been avoiding. 'He is your friend' you tried to remind yourself. But once the tip of his thumb brushed along your lips once again, you couldn't stop yourself. Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his chest, steading yourself and rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips against his.

Your own bravery surprised you, but Tom didn't seem affected. As soon as your lips met, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He didn't hesitate, he wasn't surprised. He just held you, gently running his lips along yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. But as much as you wanted to enjoy the moment, realisation hit you. You were kissing your best friend. You gently pushed him away, stumbling back from the force, covering your mouth with your palm. "I'm so sorry," you breathed, panic rising in your chest. "I have no idea what happened, I don't know why I did that, I'm so sorry," your words were rushed, your heartbeat loudly pulsing in your ears.

But Tom's gaze twinkled. A soft, warm smile grew wider across his face as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm not," he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I've been wanting to kiss you," he breathed as he closed his eyes momentarily, slightly shaking his head. "I've been wanting to tell you how much I love you; I've been trying to gain the courage to say it out loud," he scoffed. "I'm a fool for dragging it out for so long, but I love you," his voice shook as he said the words, but his arms tightened around you, safely holding you against his chest. It took you a second to understand what he meant, that your feelings weren't unrequited, that he has been harbouring the same feelings you have.

A heavy sigh left your lungs, as though a weight fell off your chest. Your lips curved into a smile as you placed your hands on his cheeks, running the tip of your thumbs across his jawline. He mirrored your expression whilst leaning into your touch, planting a small kiss on your palm. "I love you too," you replied finally," the words rolling off the tip of your tongue easier than you expected. "I love you so much," you giggled, wanting to repeat the words over and over again, until you finally understood that it was real, that you weren't dreaming. "You never know what the future holds for you, huh?" You asked, repeating his words from earlier in the evening, earning a loud chuckle from him. "So, is this one of those many possibilities?" you raised a single brow.

"Could be. I have a couple more ideas," he said, his soft smile turning into a confident grin.

"You are terrible," you gently hit his chest as you grabbed his suit-jacket and pulled him down to you, meeting his lips halfway, smiling into the intimate moment you have been craving for so long.

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[oneshotnewbie]

Can I request Spencer Hasting where she is Hella protective over Reader? Maybe Reader gets attacked by A when she is alone on the way home from the gym or so and she gets hurt and she calls Spencer for help. Spencer is all mad and angry but lovingly patching up Readers bruises and cuts while telling her that she can't get alone outside now without her because she doesn't want that Reader gets hurt otherwise and more badly? They are pretty close, closer than the other girls

Spencers cell phone rang in her normal ringtone, roused her from her thoughts and made her startle for a moment. The file that she had fed with various information from A since the second it got more dangerous, fell annoyed in front of her on the wooden table while she let herself fall back on the couch, exhausted.

She looked at the ceiling and groaned while massaging the sore spots on her temples. She took a few deep breaths to calm down before she fumbled for the cell phone on the table, thinking that you had texted her that you were coming in late from your gym session.

Broken ribs and bruised lips. My anger grows and I am always close. Tell Dr. Sullivan or anyone about me and your beloved Y/N will pay the price.

- A 💋

Skipping the lines several times, the brown-haired tried to get a meaningful result from the first lines of the repulsive text before your photo popped up on her phone screen and she answered immediately.

"Spenc?" her name echoed muffled through the receiver, the pain in your voice couldn't be overheard. The scraping of the iron carabiners from your bag and the rattling of your bracelets and rings on the cold floor gave her cause of concern and she pricked up her ears. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"Not really," you said in a whisper and dared to try to lift yourself off the ground, but in vain. Instead, you cried out and Spencer was on alert, her tiredness was gone. "What happened?"

"I was attacked by A's henchmen."

As soon as the last words left your lips, her eyes opened wide in shock and her tiredness was overtaken by anger. With a skillful push off the couch, the brunette grabbed the file and jumped up the stairs to her room where she placed the papers in her safe hiding place and rushed down to grab her car keys. "Where are you?"

"I'm down the street from your house at the intersection." you panted out as you looked around, trying to stand up again.

You definitely knew that you had at least one bruised rib.

---

After Spencer found you where you let her know beforehand, she helped you into her car and drove you to her home, but only at your request. You didn't want to go to the hospital or home for your parents to ask questions about your condition and you knew the brunettes were out and about in New York.

Tenderly and with one arm around your waist to support you, she helped you into the house and gently sat you down on the couch before taking off your jacket and ordering you to lie down. "I should drive you to the hospital to be on the safe side. I can treat scratches, a bleeding lip and bruises, but I can't X-ray your rib."

While you threw yourself agonizingly on the couch with a small scream, you waved your hand negatively and she rolled her eyes. She literally bit her teeth at cement because of your stubbornness.

"It's not broken so I am not going to die, Spenc." did you joke and you could tell by her turn from the fridge and look that she didn't like it at all. "A couple of pain pills and cool packs and I will be fine."

"It could all have turned out much worse!" she shouted from the kitchen before joining you and handing you an ice pack in a kitchen towel. "Put that on your lip, stupid." You smiled thankfully and immediately pressed it onto the wound and the cool made you moan out.

While she disappeared from your sight again to get the rest utensils to mend you from the bathroom, you heard her cursing. She hated it when you got hurt and there was nothing she could do about it except watch and fix you after. This has been the case since kindergarten; if you fell of the swing, she was angry and wouldn't let you on it. If you got your heart broken, she broke the guy in different ways.

Spencer was always protective of you and always blamed herself when she wasn't around to protect you from the pain.

"Y/N? Are you still there?" you heard her drowning out your thoughts.

You hadn't noticed that she was sitting on the small table in front of you and was already starting to soak the cotton pads with disinfectant and laying out the plasters.

With a questioning and slightly worried look that she underlined with a raised eyebrow, the brunette looked you in the eyes. She was trying to figure out what you were thinking about and where you got stuck. "Everything okay? Maybe I should call Winn."

"No, I am fine. Trust me." you tried to calm her down and Spencer knew she could trust you. You were always honest with her, no matter what, so she could count on you to let her know if you were going to feel worse.

With a nod she began to wipe the already dried blood from your chin and lip with the cotton pad and you hissed when the disinfectant hit the open wound. Your teeth clenched together, you clutched at the fabric of the couch in pain. "I don't want you to go anywhere by yourself until we know who A is or how many of them are out there."

"Why? It could have happened to any of us."

"No." she sighed and wanted to change the cotton pad but you stopped her moving with a gentle grip on her wrist as you looked at her intently. She was hiding something from you.

Reluctantly, she dropped everything on the table and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket. Without a word she opened the message she got before your call and stretched the screen in front of your face.

Confused, you took her phone in your hands and read through the lines while she silently went back to patching you up. You kept going through this rhyme and you knew what was going on in Spencer at that moment; she was terrified. She underlined her anger and fear for you by screaming at you desperately, unintentionally. "Damn, you are so stubborn! Please listen to me just once, please! You are not invulnerable!"

"Spencer, calm down." you tried to calm her down, her face was already completely red. "SPENCER!"

She interrupted her panic and looked at you with wide eyes and open mouth. "I promise I won't go out without Han, Aria, Em or you anymore. But please, calm down okay? Nothing happened."

"Listen, if anything happens to you - and we're not talking about bruises or scratches - I will go berserk."

You chuckled about that sentence and looked at her. Her gaze was serious, the brunettes cheeks flushed in only a light red. She tried to swallow her anger by watching you and your movements, looking at your smile and that shine in your eyes that despite the last few years of terror wasn't gone.

You were tough, and she had to be it too.

"I am serious, I will track down A and kill that bitch when she tears off a single hair off of you."

[maybege]

Booth Jazz

Summary: You and Boba explore a little fantasy – as a treat. (Part 4 of Midnight Special)

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, exhibitionism, almost getting caught, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, creampie, car sex, mention of somnophilia, also these two idiots have feelings

I know it’s been a while but I hope that some of you are still interested in this little project. Updates will remain irregular for a while but you can look up the most recent posting schedule here. As always, big shout out to @ayybtch for enduring my thirsting for hot dad!Boba. I hope you all have an amazing start into the week and let me know what you think of this chapter!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Back again, huh?” the man behind the counter greeted you, “And on a Thursday no less.”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly, nervously motioning to the menu, “Could I get a cider please?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he nodded, wiping it one more time before grabbing a glass from behind him. You waited patiently, looking around the room and finding that while it was a little more crowded than last time you had been here, you recognized none of the people which was a good thing.

The last time you had been here, it was a weekend with live music. Now it was a Thursday evening which meant that there was a sports game of some sort playing on the large TVs, the centre of attention of the patrons that were there.

It did not escape you that the bartender looked you over, no doubt noticing your very fancy outfit for a Thursday night. Then again, he had never seen you wear anything else.

“Here you go,” the full glass slid towards you, leaving a wet trail on the polished wood, he nodded towards the end of the room, “Should I put it on his tab?”

“That would be great, thanks,” you smiled, taking your glass in hand before making your way to the direction he had nodded towards.

No one paid you any mind, the game being a finale of some sort. Still, you felt as though everybody. You were wearing a dark green cocktail dress, the fabric shiny in the low light and the neckline lower than what you usually wore. And, when the light shone just right, revealing the texture f the lace of your bra underneath. The fabric felt cool and smooth against your hot skin you felt as if everybody could see up your skirt even though the hem hit your knees with every step.

Your steps quickened when you spotted a single man occupying one of the booths at the very end of the room. He was looking down at his phone, intentionally paying you no mind and a coy smile slipped on your lips.

Without stopping, you raised your legs, making to climb over his lap as he was blocking one entry to the bench. Boba’s hand shot up, gripping your hip and keeping you standing over him while his eyes roamed over your figure.

You bit your lip, seeing how his eyes darkened when they landed on your chest, your nipples already pebbled and visibly through the fabric.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked teasingly, shivering when his hand left your hip, trailing down your legs until it simply fell to his side.

“Not at all,” he rasped, motioning to the free space next to him, “Feel free.”

You settled down next to him in the booth, Boba’s arm immediately coming to rest around your shoulders.

“Hello there, little one,” he rumbled, turning his face to press a kiss against your mouth. It already made you clench your thighs, your anticipation building a thick knot in your lower belly.

He groaned, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to taste you and you thanked the stars that the lights were dimmed in the room or else everybody would see you getting in a heated make-out session with him. His other hand went to your bare thigh, big fingers splaying over the soft flesh as he gripped it and patted your legs.

Your breathing came heavy as his mouth wandered to your jaw and behind your ear. “Sorry, I’m late,” you breathed out, leaning your head back against the plush leather of the booth, “Work ran later than I wanted it to. How can I make it up to you?”

Boba chuckled into your ear, the sound low and gravelly and sending a rush of wetness between your thighs. You already knew he had the filthiest thing in mind and you were so here for it. Your walls fluttered around nothing. All day you had been looking forward to tonight, barely able to focus on work, and now that you were here, it was as if you were already on the edge.

“I want you to take off your panties for me, little one,” he instructed hoarsely, pulling your legs open even further, “I want to finger you right here in the pub and I want you to stay good and quiet for me. Can you do that for me, princess?”

You grinned widely, putting your hand on his and pulling it in between your thighs. “I’m not wearing any … sir,” you bit your bottom lip, suppressing a gasp when you felt his middle finger swipe through your already wet folds, “you can do whatever you want with me. I’m all yours.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he praised you, his thumb circling your clit and you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the wet sounds that came from between your legs.

“Stars, you’re wet for me,” he praised you, “Good girl. Gripping my fingers real tight, hm?”

The bar erupted in cheers at the game, chairs scraping on the floor as some stood up, calling for new rounds of beer and high fiving each other.

You whimpered, breath catching in your throat as Boba used the cover of their noise to speed up his movements. Your legs shook and you weakly tried to put your hand on his, pulling them away from your cunt as the knot in your belly tightened. Everything felt warm – hot– and tight and you felt yourself clamp around him, your feet trembling in the heels you were wearing.

Boba mumbled something you did not understand and suddenly his hand was gone and you whined at the loss, arching your hips. But then his hand came back, slapping your pussy and your hand flew to your mouth, biting into your palm as he pulled an orgasm out of you so strongly you were surprised you did not leave an entire wet patch on the floor.

Leaning back against the bench, you felt dizzy and sweaty and

Boba had sat up slightly, his body covering you from anyone who might decide to look into your general direction. He was looking over you, his face dark as his fingers lipped back inside you. Immediately your walls clamped around the digits again and bit your lip, doing your best to remain quiet.

There was the tell-tale bulge in his jeans and you weakly raised your hand to touch him. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you could feel the heat of him and your mouth watered at the thought of getting him into your mouth. Of licking the precoma from his tip before having him push his cock so far down your throat it would make tears appear in the corner of your eyes.

“Fuck I want to sit you on my cock so bad,” he cursed under his breath, his fingers not ceasing their movements and you whimpered, “but that would be a little too obvious, wouldn’t it? You’re too much of a cock slut to stay quiet.“

Boba curled his fingers inside you, slowly rubbing his long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb swiped over your clit and you bit into his shoulder, feeling slightly sorry for the nice shirt he was wearing as you tried to muffle your sounds. How had you just come and still craved his touch?

Your walls clenched around him. The sounds of the bar echoed in your ears, seemingly getting louder with every thrust of Boba’s fingers inside you. There were people everywhere. And here you were creaming around Boba’s thick fingers as he whispered pure filth into your ear.

“Need you to be quiet for me, little one,” he reminded you with a chuckle, completely pressed up against you, “unless you want everyone to know what a good girl you are for me.”

You nodded frantically, trying your best to keep quiet. But then you saw him look down and you followed his line of sight and the whole staying quiet thing became much more difficult. Because with how you had spread your legs, your dress had ridden up, revealing his thick fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, glistening from your juices.

A quiet moan left you. one that Boba immediately swallowed up with a heated kiss. His thumb

“If you keep this up you’re going to have to let them watch.”

You knew he did not really mean the second one. Early on in your text messages, he had told you he was not one to share – “And certainly not you, little one” – but his words still flustered you and you squeezed around his fingers.

“Have I told you how much I love this?” he whispered into your ear, clearly trying to coax another orgasm out of you and with the way your pussy got even wetter at his deep voice, it was clearly working.

You shook your head breathlessly, feeling your cheeks heat with anticipation as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“All we said to each other today was hello before I had my fingers buried in this tight cunt of yours,” he revealed, “You did not even ear any panties, you’re that much of a slut for me. Letting me fuck you right in the booth where we first met.”

You whimpered, thankful for the loud cheers of the other patrons, and bit your lips, trying to ignore how good his degrading words made you feel. But Boba knew you and he could read your body like an open book.

With a teasing smirk on his lips, his other hand came up to your neckline, pushing it to the side and when his thumb caught the lace edge of your bra he just pulled it with him. And suddenly not only were you getting fingered undeath the table but one of your tits was bared to the warm air of the bar.

You gaped at Boba’s confidence before your mouth clamped shut trying to keep your sounds in when he started to play with your nipple. “One more,” he encouraged you, “one more time around my fingers and then we can do whatever we want,” he promised you hotly, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipple.

From the corner of your eyes, you spotted someone making their way to the washrooms. Which meant that had to pass by you. Your heart jumped in your throat and your limbs locked up, the pleasure threatening to become too much while the fear of being discovered rendered you silent.

Boba seemed to notice it too, a dark look forming in his eyes as his fingers sped up. He shifted, his body now completely covering yours in the dark booth. “C’mon,” he growled, his thumb flicking over the bundle of nerves, “Either you come right now or you don’t come at all.”

The drunken man stumbled a little, clearly intoxicated, as he supported himself on a table on the other side of the aisle. Boba made a sound at the back of his throat, forcing you to look at him and your breath caught in your throat, walls rhythmically clenching around your fingers.

There was a determination in his eyes and suddenly your entire chest was bared and Boba leant down, biting into the soft flesh of your left breast and you came.

It took everything in you to not slump forward and be seen by everyone in the bar but sideways into Boba’s body, every muscle in your body tensing before relaxing into what felt like melted butter as wetness coated Boba’s fingers.

You closed your eyes, completely out of breath, uncaring that your tits were still very much out in the open.

“Good girl,” Boba mumbled against your temple, pressing a kiss against your cheek as his fingers slowed their thrusts until he pulled them entirely from you, “My goof fucking girl.”

You smiled dreamily, pushing your face into the crook of his neck, “Thank you for making me come, Boba.”

He chuckled and you felt his chest move with the sound. “You’re very welcome, little one,” he rumbled, “How are you feeling?”

Shifting in your seat you grimaced as you felt the wat patch between and under your thighs. The leather was slippery and your skin felt like it was glued to it.

“Sticky,” you answered truthfully, heat shooting into your cheeks, “Stars, I am so embarrassed, I – it feels like I left a puddle. They will know what we did and –“

“Let me worry about that okay?” he interrupted you gently and you watched with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, making a show of sucking and licking your juices from his skin. His dark eyes kept looking at you and you felt your lower belly clench with want.

Stars knew you would not be able to come again so easily but you needed him.

“Let’s go to your car,” you breathed, your hands falling to his thighs, “I – I need you.”

“But you haven’t even finished your drink, little one,” the older man teased you, his lips dragging over your shoulder as he helped you to straighten out your dress. The soft fabric felt cold against your heated skin and you were glad that you had chosen a dark colour because you were sure otherwise everybody would be able to see the stains on it as it plastered to your wet skin.

“I don’t care, I don’t want it,” you pouted, one hand rubbing him through his jeans and you noted with a hint of satisfaction that his jaw tensed as he tried to keep it together, “I only want you.”

“Good, then promise me you won’t get angry with me, princess.”

Your frowned, “What-“

Something wet and cold spilled over both of you – but mainly you. You gasped at the shock, the cider immediately soaking through the fabric of your dress and you scooted away from him, quickly making a grab for some napkins that you pressed on your lap.

“Oh no,” Boba said drily, wiping his hands on a dark patch on his jeans, “I better go ask the bartender for something to clean up this mess with.”

Only now did you realize what exactly Boba had done. Because with you scooting away, the glass had not stopped spilling – it simply spilled on the already wet leather now. Which meant Boba had the perfect cover to wipe down the table and the bench and no one would be the wiser.

Well, except for you.

He came back a moment later with a rag and motioned for you to stand up which you did readily, grimacing at the sticky feeling. You watched as Boba bent over the bench, thoroughly wiping everything away and making sure not a trace of your activities was left before he stood up again.

“There we go,” he mumbled, eyes roaming over your form and his lips quirked up, “And I am sure you don’t want to stay here in these wet clothes, little one. I think I might have a shirt back in the car that you could borrow. Sound good?”

You smiled, “very good.”

Boba smiled, one arm wrapping around your waist as he guided you out of the bar. The other patrons were so busy with the game they did not even notice you leave.

The front of the bar was completely abandoned and you smiled when he led you into an all-familiar alley. “Keep it in your pants, little one,” Boba joked, passing the spot where he had first thrust inside you, “I’m not gonna fuck you against this brick wall again.”

Your shoulders fell, “Why not?”

“Because there are so many other places I want to fuck you first.”

“Oh?”

But Boba ignored your very obvious interest in that line of conversation as he led you to the parking lot at the back of the building. Much like the bar, there were a few cars there but it was not too crowded which meant that you recognized Boba’s truck immediately, your steps speeding up the closer you got.

The headlights lit up as he unlocked it and you smiled when he passed the driver’s door and instead opened the back door.

“Not to forget the secret wish a little birdie told me,” he smiled, settling himself in the back seat, already fiddling with his belt.

You hiked your dress up, “Which is?”

Boba grinned wolfishly, clearly happy with how the evening had progressed and his warm hands found your hips, pulling you on top of him. You looked down to where he was freeing himself from his briefs, thick and heavy and already leaking precome.

“That someone would very much like to be fucked in her sleep,” he revealed, a knowing look in his eyes and once again Boba Fett managed to fluster you, “but you did not expect me to say that now did you?”

“How did you know?” you asked, softly gasping when his hands once again pushed the neckline of your dress out of the way before pulling down the soft cups from your bra, revealing your tits to the cold night air.

“A hunch,” he shrugged, “That and the fact that you were begging me to fuck you by the time you were half asleep,” his fingers rolled your nipples between them, “I believe your exact words were I don’t mind if I wake up with your cock inside me, Sir.”

Both embarrassment and pleasure coursed through and you threw your head back, “Oh stars.”

A loud groan left him when your wet folds rubbed up against his shaft. “Fuck, little one, don’t think I will last long tonight. Not like that.”

But you did not let him deteriorate from your mission. With one hand supporting yourself on his shoulder, the other pumped his cock, keeping him steady so that you could sink down in him in one go. You wanted all of him and you wanted it fast and hard.

“I don’t need to come, Boba,” you replied breathlessly, working yourself onto him, “I – I just want you to come inside me, please. W-Want you to fill me up again so I can feel you tomorrow.”

The sound he let out was beautiful and you let your hands drift over his shoulders down to the fabric that was covering him. You lifted yourself up in the process, relishing in how thick he was inside you, how he seemed to rub against your walls in only the best way, before sinking down again, the sudden movement causing a slapping sound.

Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, your hands roamed over his chest and belly, exploring his tattoos. Boba moaned, his hand squeezing your tits and massaging them roughly, sometimes venturing to circle your nipples and pull them just how you liked it.

“Feel so good,” he brought out, his hips starting to meet yours and you lost your rhythm, simply letting him fuck up into you, “Tightest little pussy just for me.”

You buried your face in his neck, whining at the way he kept using you to get off. Shit, you knew you would not come again and yet there was something so very hot about Boba for once only being concerned with his pleasure.

A broad hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you away from him until you were face to face. “Look at me,” he ordered breathlessly, his eyes glassy and you leant forward, kissing him as hard you could. With every thrust, his cock seemed to reach deeper inside you and your clit rubbed against his belly, more or less accidentally stimulating you.

“You really just want me to come inside you, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand tightened, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Say it.”

“I just want you to come inside me,” you squeaked out, your “Please, I just want you to come inside me. Just use me. Please use me. Pleasepleasepleaseplease –“

He surged forward, teeth clashing against yours and his hips snapped up even harder. He was close, you could feel it in the way he hardened inside you, how his hand tightened around your neck and how his breathing became shallow, dark eyes locking with yours.

And then he came.

The car windows were foggy and your eyes rolled back in your head when the feeling of his seed spilling inside you triggered the surprising third orgasm of the night. You felt warm and full, Boba’s solid body underneath yours the one thing that grounded you in reality.

Catching your breath, you cuddled into his chest, ignoring how his come started to trickle out of you around his cock while Boba gently brushed your back, his lip pressing soft kisses wherever he could reach.

“Thank you for coming inside me,” you mumbled sweetly and grinned when you felt him twitch inside you again.

“Stars, woman,” he groaned, running his hand over his face, “You are really going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You laughed, “I hope not.”

It was silent for a moment before both of became aware that you were indeed very much in public and that it only needed one patron to come out to notice what you had done. Which meant that, as slowly as possible, you pulled away from each other.

“Here,” he whispered, reaching behind him and handing you a dark t-shirt, “This might be more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, pecking his lips before quickly changing in front of him, “So what do we do now?”

Boba looked down, focussing on re-buttoning his shirt. “I have an idea.”

*

For a moment, you had feared that he would drive you home already.

But that fear dissipated quickly when he turned into the local fast food’s drive-in.

He got each of you a burger and a milkshake and some fries to share, depositing them between your seats. Still parked behind the neon sign of the drive-in, you mostly ate in silence, quickly devouring your food and drinks while smiling and looking warmly at each other.

Neither one of you wanted to address the elephant in the room.

Only when the music on the radio changed from Electro House something to Calm Country go home music did Boba start the car again, taking the route to get you home.

“When’s your flight?” you asked into the quiet, pressing a kiss against his neck. Your heart was still racing in your chest and with the slight sheen of sweat on your skin, you shivered from the cool night air that came through the window you had cracked open.

“Four a.m.” he replied, a large truck passing you, “A buddy of mine is going to drive me to the airport.”

You hummed, looking out the window. You had been so excited for tonight, for good reason too, but now you felt as if the little time you had, had passed way too quickly. You wanted to hold on to him, this, for just a few hours longer but a look at the dashboards clock – 2:30 am – told you there was no that was going to happen.

“Two weeks,” you sighed, slumping against his side, “I’m going to miss you.”

Boba’s hand slipped from the gearshift to your thigh, lightly squeezing your knee, “I will miss you too, little one. Did not think an all-inclusive business trip to Hawaii would have me this hesitant.”

Neither one of you said anything as he kept driving, the city sights soon turning into familiar streets and your heart ached as he pulled into the parking lot in front of your apartment complex. It was completely abandoned and only the street lamp Boba had parked in front offered a little light.

Both of you remained sitting in the car and it calmed you somewhat that Boba seemed as reluctant to let you go as you were.

“Will – will you text?” you asked, turning to the side to face him while your hand already rested on the doorknob.

He looked serious, then, nodding slowly as if getting used to the thought. “Yeah, little one,” he whispered, “I will.”

As you hurried up the stairs to your apartment, confident that none of your neighbours would be awake to see you only in a slightly too long shirt, you wondered if this something between you could be more than a booty call.

[wearywinchester]

Hold On

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When you’re injured on a hunt with a shapeshifter, Dean’s there to make sure you’re okay.

Requested by Anonymous: “Come here, I’ll carry you”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, mild swearing, fluff, kissing

A groan.

That’s all you could manage as you tipped your head back and let it thud against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as another groan fell past your lips. You were nothing short of exhausted as you slumped against that wall, one that surely had the outline of your body indented in it from where you’d been thrown earlier. Just how early it’d been, you weren’t really sure about that part.

What you were sure of was the incessant burning across your knuckles and the pressure behind your cheekbone, knowing for certain there was a cut running along your skin there. You were increasingly aware of the way your knee had a dull throb to it, your ankle a million times worse. That familiar pressure radiated behind your eyes as the tears stung and burned, frustration having built up and nearly boiled over. Between the pain of your injuries and the embarrassment you felt for getting them, it was enough to have them rolling down your cheeks, hot on your skin.

It was a shifter. One that’d turned into your very own twin, adding to the strangeness of it all when it cornered you in a room by yourself, the room you currently sulked in with the inability to get very far.

The saying you are your own worst enemy had taken on a meaning you never quite thought of in that moment, one that had your brows furrowing and the anger simmering within you. You knew it’d used your looks to it’s advantage for the brothers you came with, for Dean. You were his sweet spot and it seemed as though every monster in the very world you lived in knew that very fact and took full advantage of the seemingly universal knowledge.

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the fact that you’d gotten separated from the pair and were reduced to a hobble should you want to get up and find your way to them. That would be simple if you knew where they were—you’d heard some yelling and a miscellaneous shot fired, but it wasn’t enough to pinpoint where your beau had been.

Your hands were trembling as you brought them up to your face, adrenaline still having its hold on you as you rub your hands down your face despite the jolt of pain making itself known when your hand ran over your cheek. You grit your teeth and curse under your breath at the sensation, fists balling in your momentary irritation before they relax once more.

All around you were heaps of broken glass from windows and cabinets, shards of snapped wood joining it on the floor and you were fairly certain you were sitting on more than a few of those pieces. The couch was overturned and it’s cushions splay around the room in places cushions shouldn’t be, the table split down the middle and sitting in a pile of rubble much like the rest of the room. The paintings and pictures on the walls were torn, the glass in some of the frames broken and from where you’d thrown them in self defense. Something that also took on a new meaning.

You were tired, fatigue weighing you down as your heart hammered in your chest and sweat coated your skin. You were tired and miserable and desperately wanted to call it a day. A bubble bath seemed like a dream to you in that moment, contrasting to the way you felt having currently been covered in dirt and blood and sweat and most freshly—tears.

Your jaw tenses as tightly as you could manage when you rolled to your side, palm pressed to the floor as you leaned on your good knee. It was no easy feat getting yourself up off that floor, the smallest bit of pressure upon your ankle nearly sending you over the edge as you stood to your feet with a tear rolling down your cheek. Balance was something you lacked in that moment, never something you had down to begin with but it paled in comparison to this as you caught yourself on the wall.

“I am never hunting again,” you grumble to yourself, huff leaving your lips though you knew it was a lie.

“Y/n?”

You gaze lifted to the owner of the voice, relief washing over you as he crossed the room in as little as three strides. “Dean? Please tell me it’s really you because I can’t do a round two with that thing.”

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart,” he says, brows furrowing as his hand comes up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over your skin as the tips of his fingers hover over the very curve of your ear.

You could see every emotion that expressed on his face, that filled his eyes as they bounced over every inch of your face at each and every scrape and scratch and bump and bruise. You could see the myriad of questions and arguments sitting on the tip of his tongue on how you should have been more careful, how he shouldn’t have let you leave his side this time. It wasn’t hard to see, even if he’d deny it till he was blue in the face if you’d said those very things you saw.

His eyes fall closed for a moment as the relief falls over him, his forehead pressing to yours as his jaw tenses. He feels the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what’d happened to you and at the very fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. Wasn’t there to help you. If he was, your hands wouldn’t be shaking so much and you wouldn’t have those tears in your eyes that pull at his heart every time he sees them. You wouldn’t be shifting on your feet as you try and stand on a messed up ankle and you wouldn’t have felt scared. You hadn’t said it but he knew you were.

You wouldn’t be hurt.

“You okay?” He asks instead, nose bumping yours softly in the close proximity.

“Take a wild guess, Winchester,” you said, lips quirking up in a soft smile.

He pulls back to look at you then, lips pursed as the crease between his brows deepens. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, getting yourself an eye roll.

You muster up the strength to push past him, all hobbles with just an ounce of balance as your face twists in immediate discomfort. The groan you try to muffle doesn’t get past green eyes behind you, especially not the gasp you’re quick to inhale when that ever familiar searing pain burns up the length of your leg. It was beyond you how you thought you could play it off, but even then you still didn’t give up your efforts.

“Y/n,” he started, a warning tone in his voice mixed with exasperation.

“I’m fine, Dean. I got it,” you insist, though the half cry leaving your lips right after is less than helping your case.

“Would you quit it with the macho tough guy act?” He says and you’re quick to flash him a glare. His brows raise and he throws his hands up. He was right and he knew it. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”

“Are you crazy?” Your glare remains as your head tilts, his hands dropping to his sides.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart, ‘m not letting you walk so deal with it.”

You sigh as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, one you try desperately to stave off as you roll your eyes. He turns on his heel and squats down, head turning and brow raising as he waits. A huff sounds and so does a stifle noise of discomfort as you move, your hands pressing to his shoulders as you climb on his back. His hands rest behind your thighs as he stands tall, your arms wrapping around his neck as your head rests against his.

A quiet apology is immediate at the sound of your muffled complaints when your ankle is jostled more than you’d prefer, soft and sweet. You tightened your grip around him then, your chin resting on his shoulder as he kicked the busted door open, careful not to let it hit you.

The rain was drizzling outside as he started along the trail back to the car, the droplets cold against your skin as they pelted down over you at a steady pace.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you mumble, a teasing smile on your lips. “Maybe I should stop calling you short stack.”

His chuckle rumbles against you and you can’t see the grin on his face but boy was he sporting the sweetest smile as he shook his head at your words. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really,” you say, laughing to yourself. “But you are shorter than Sam, so I’m gonna have to take it back, short stack.”

He squeezes your good leg in playful retaliation, head shaking some more as he hikes you up further on his back. Even when you’re hurting you never miss the chance to pick on him and he swears you’re the embodiment of sunshine, he knows you are but he doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

“I meant it when I said you were a pain,” he says, his grin in his words.

You laughed then, one that has him smiling like a fool. You sigh softly, another laugh falling from your lips.

“I can’t believe I kicked my own ass,” you say, brows furrowing as you thought about it and his own laughter was immediate. It wasn’t all too amusing half an hour ago but in the current moment, it was kinda comical you will admit.

“You kicked mine too.”

You sigh, quiet and gentle as you look ahead over his shoulder. His stubble is rough against your cheek as your skin brushes against it, your hand that dangled over in front of him patting his chest.

“De?” You say softly, eyes focused on his boots with every step in the mud and gravel. He hummed. “You really are sweet.”

Sweet. It was something you called him often, something he’d beg to differ on because he feels you deserve more, but that isn’t even something he’d argue with you on. He knows full well he’d lose. But it’s got him smiling, one that only widens when you kiss his cheek and your smile presses into his skin, paired with a soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth when he turns his head. He stops in his tracks and tips his head back, kissing you once, twice, three times before he turns once more and continues by the path.

It’s his wordless I love you, his wordless acceptance of your words as he’s got that goofy smile on his lips he’s glad you can’t see. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you’ve got him, and he knows he’s not going anywhere.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I

Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!

Series Masterlist

Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.

———

“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”

As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”

Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.

“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”

…

When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.

When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.

Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”

“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”

Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”

“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”

“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.

“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”

“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.

Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.

“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”

“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”

…

They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.

“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”

“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”

Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”

Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”

“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”

“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.

Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”

“So they are better than mine?”

Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”

…

A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.

Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”

Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”

“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”

“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.

“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.

“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”

Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”

“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”

“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”

“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”

“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”

Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”

“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”

“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”

Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”

“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”

Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”

“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.

Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”

…

“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.

He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.

I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!

Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.

I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!

Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.

JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉

Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.

JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.

———

Tags: @spacedikut

[amimimi]

dreams; kyan reki

synposis: in which you tend to reki’s wounds after his second beef with adam; second part to this fic but it can be read on it’s own! takes place after episode 11

pairings: gn! reader x reki

genre: fluff. just fluff. and caretaking.

warnings: mentions of injuries. swearing. brief nudity (?) sap, so sappy.

word count: 3.5k

notes: i loved the series so much! reki has suffered enough, so i decided to show his some love. i was so so proud of him during episode 11. again, i apologize in advance for grammatical/spelling errors. i'm pretty busy with school so i'm just churning fics out at this point.

“i’m not letting you lift a finger for a month” you moan as you help seat reki on his bed. you’re both mostly dried from the rain, save for your hair and clothes. he only giggles in response and you can’t help it when you lean down to gingerly place your hands up to his face, kissing the bridge of his nose. “a month”

“ahh, i don’t think that’s gonna work” reki gives you an easy grin, before placing a kiss on the side of you mouth. “i got a shift tomorrow”

“i’ll cover your shift” you say, stone-faced. disbelief momentarily flashes across reki’s face before he breaks out into uncontrollable giggles—the kind that erupts straight from your stomach. your hands drop from his face. “shh! i’m serious!”

he hangs his head forward and brings a hand up to his mouth, attempting to quell his giggles. “you don’t even work there, y/n!” he manages to say before delving into yet another fit of giggles. reki must’ve curled in too far because his laughter is cut off by strangled cry. immediately, you surge forward, gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders.

it wasn’t unusual for reki to be banged up from skateboarding—everything from scrapes to fractures were all pretty common for him. in the beginning of your relationship with reki, it worried you to no end, and you even begged him to wear a helmet (he said no, of course). eventually you came to accept that injuries were going to be a normal occurrence for reki. but his injuries this time were slightly different.

reki had his second beef with adam earlier that night. technically reki had lost, but it felt more like a victory instead. he came so close, and he did so well. and he was happy. seeing him like that in his element, gleaming with joy, eyes lit a flame with passion—you felt like ten years was added to your lifespan. of course, reki took quite the beating but no where near the damage of last time.

“m’fine!” he wheezes, placing a hand over his stomach. “it’s just a bruise.”

you’re not convinced and it shows on your face because reki gently places his hand on the back of your head, pulling your forehead up against his. “i’m fine, baby”

you let yourself stay there, forehead pressed against reki’s and staring right into each other’s eyes. for the first time in weeks, you felt the tightness in your chest completely dissipate. because here you were gazing into his eyes—reki’s eyes, in his darkened room, knowing he was safe and okay.

“okay,” you whisper. reki gazes at you with half-lidded eyes and attempts to press his forehead closer (if that was even possible), brushing his nose against yours. “but i gotta patch you up”.

you wiggle out of reki’s grasp, who whimpers at the loss of contact, to grab the first aid kit he’d kept in his drawer. stumbling in the dark, you feel around for his desk, flicking on the lamp. reki watches you sift through the contents of his drawer, overtaken by a sudden wave of fondness. he loves you, always has. but suddenly, in this moment, he feels the love he has for you in a new way. it pools in his stomach, warm and fuzzy, and he feels so full, so content, like he ate a whole meal.

“i love you from my stomach” reki blurts out before he’s aware of what he’s saying. from over your shoulder, you glance at him quizzically and he feels a new sensation—mortification, burn all over his face. later, he’s going to blame his misspeaking on the fact that it was so late into the night and that every inch of his body was practically throbbing in pain. but right now, he can’t form any thoughts, let alone excuses.

“huh?” you’re facing him now, first aid kit in hand and your face twitching with the urge to smile. feeling his ears burn up, reki presses his lips and shakes his head, refusing to repeat what he said. “reki~! what did you say?”

he turns his head to the side as you make your way over to the bed. “i forgot”

“no you didn’t!” you whine, throwing the first aid kit on the bed and placing your hands over his cheeks. “say it again, please?”

“ahh, i meant it like—”reki pauses, thinking about how to put his feelings into words. “i-i don’t know! i love you, but sometimes i feel it in my stomach”

“oh”, you plop down right next to him on the bed, pulling your legs up to sit crisscross. reki follows your movement, pulling his legs up on the bed and crossing them. he’s looking at expectantly. “like butterflies, yeah?”

“no, not that. this feels warm—and kinda heavy”

“oh”, you tilt your head to one side and smile coyly. “so, desire then?”

reki rolls his eyes at you, his ears still red. “you’re so—”

“desperately in love with you?” you offer with a grin before leaning and catching his lips in a noisy kiss. you pull back, but not before kissing the tip of his nose just to see his reaction. reki fights back a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he shakes his head.

“j-just patch me up, please”, he sighs as his lips finally quirk into a smile.

“can I change first?” you ask. wet jeans felt like murder and your shirt was starting to stick in uncomfortable places on your torso. reki nods and points to his closet.

“i have clean shirts and sweatpants folded in there” he informs you, watching as you sit up and make your way over to his closet. reki’s not surprised when you grab his pink dope sketch shirt, shooting him a cheeky grin.

you start tugging off your jeans and reki looks away to give your privacy. “you’re so precious, reki” you coo at him. reki only smiles at the opposite wall and shakes his head. when you’re done, you drop your wet clothes in his laundry and walk over to him. “i’m decent!”

reki looks back at you and his heart twists at the sight of you, clad in his work shirt, hanging just above your knees and slightly hugging your waist. he prays he isn’t blushing and gulps.

“i have sweatpants if you want some, sweetheart”, he reminds you weakly, trying to stop staring.

you blink at him, lost and then you gasp. “oh, sorry! I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable!” you rush. “i’ll put some pants on—”

“no!” he practically shouts, before squeezing his lips shut. you both hold your breaths when you hear his little sister in the next room, groan and shift in her sleep. waiting, until he’s sure it’s safe, he continues much quietly. “i’m not uncomfortable. you look really good, i love you like this. i just want you to feel comfortable”

adoration surges in your chest as you watch your boyfriend clumsily and earnestly explain himself, a blush adorned on his face. “i feel the most comfortable when i’m with you” you admit with a shy smile, your face growing warm.

reki blinks up at you for a second, looking momentarily stunned before his face morphs into a soft grin. his eyes twinkle as he holds his hands out for you, sure and steady. placing your hands in his calloused ones, you sit down beside on the bed and sit criss crossed.

the both of you sit like that for a while, staring lovingly at one another and taking turn squeezing each other’s hands. finally, you bring reki’s hands up to your lips, littering his knuckles with kisses before giving them a quick squeeze.

“where do you hurt the most?” you question, sliding your hands out of his to open the first aid kit. you skim over his injuries, not even knowing where to start. there’s a line of dried blood and a bruise forming on the right side of his face, must be a small laceration under his headband. you know his back is cut up pretty badly and you hope it’s nothing too deep.

“my whole body is sore, if i’m going to be honest” he replies sheepishly. frowning, you gently tug off his headband to assess the damage. just as you suspected, a small cut right under his hairline. the area is beginning to bruise too. you remember adam repeatedly punching him at one point, as reki had locked his arms around him... maybe reki should go to a hospital?

“I promise you i’m fine”, reki assures you, having picked up on the mounting worry on your face. he takes your hand in his, rubbing the roughened pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “trust me! i’ve had worse. i was jumped and hit with a car all in one day and i didn’t even get a concussion”.

despite reki’s face beaming with pride, you frown deeper and fidget at the thought of reki getting hurt like that. “please don’t remind me...” you sigh, sitting up off the bed to grab a face towel from his closet. “i’m gonna run this under water, okay?”

“alright”, reki answered, watching you step out of his room to make your way to the bathroom. you hurry back, the wet towel dripping water down your forearm, and gently seat yourself on the bed.

you arrange yourself so that you are sitting criss cross in front of reki. “I’m going to clean it, alright?” you say, before leaning into give him a peck.

“okay” he murmurs, placing his hand on your knee. reki squeezes hard when you gently press the wet towel against his wound. you do this repeatedly until you make sure there’s no visible dirt around the wound before placing the towel on reki’s bedside table. you’re quick to patch up his forehead before placing a gentle kiss over the bandage. he snickers through his nose at this, squeezing your knee once more.

“now for your back...” you purse your lips. “take your shirt off.”

you’ve seen reki shirtless a thousand times before and he knows this. still, he can’t help but squirm under your gaze as he works at removing the layers of clothing he’s wearing. he takes his jacket off fine but he struggles a bit with his hoodie, still damp from the rain, wincing as he tugs upward on the fabric.

“here, lemme help you”, you murmur, sitting forward on your knees to tug his hoodie upwards and over his head. you work at the white t-shirt he had on under his hoodie next. gently as you could, you peeled the shirt off reki’s torso trying not to disturb his wounds. but he still flinches, sucking a quick breath in. “sorry! i’m sorry!”

“no, no! you’re fine, it just stung a little” reki promises you, giving your thigh a squeeze. you tug the t-shirt over his head, grimacing. his torso is littered with bruises and a few scrapes, but nothing too worrisome.

“okay, lemme see your back”, you tell him, bracing yourself as you crawl around him get a full glimpse. just as you thought, his back is scraped up and still bleeding lightly—nothing too deep. you grab the wet towel on his bedside table and hop off the bed to go run it under the bathroom facet.

when you return, reki is sitting on his bed exactly like you left, watching you tip toe over to him. “do you wanna take off your pants?” you ask, folding the wet towel. “maybe change into something dry?”

“um, yeah actually...” reki mutters, fumbling with his belt. “c-could you grab me some sweatpants? please?”

with the wet towel in one hand, you grab a pair of gray sweatpants from reki’s closet with your other hand. you can hear reki shuffling out of his pants as you walk over to the bed, with your face turned away.

you hold the sweatpants out for him, your face turned to the side. “you don’t have to look away if you don’t want to”, reki tells you and you can hear the smile in his voice. he takes the sweatpants from your hands.

“you gave me privacy, so i’m returning to the favor—give me your wet clothes, i’ll put them in the hamper”

you trade off the wet towel for reki’s clothes, wheeling around to place them in his hamper. when you turn back, reki is sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, wearing just his sweatpants and holding the wet towel in one hand.

“whenever you’re ready, nurse y/n”, he smiles at you, showing his teeth. you squint your eyes at him playfully and shuffle over to his bed. accepting the wet towel from reki, you crawl behind him so that you have full access to his back.

“okay, i’m going to clean your wounds, let me know if i’m hurting you”, you warn him, folding your legs underneath you. he grunts in response. taking a breath to steel yourself, you gently press the towel against the abrasions. suddenly, reki gasps loudly. you squeak and pull back almost immediately, your heart in your throat. “what?”

reki’s back is shaking and to your relief (and horror), you realize reki is laughing. he turns his head around to catch a glimpse at your expression and laughs so hard, he snorts and it almost makes you laugh—almost.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t help it”, he gasps between laughs.

you suck your teeth. “well, now that it’s out of your system, can you hold still? i seriously don’t want to hurt you” you reposition yourself, heart still hammering in your chest.

“sorry, angel, go ahead”, he stifles a giggle, holding still. hesitantly, you press the wet towel to abrasions on his back.

“that okay?” you question and he nods. taking another breath, you dab his entire span of his back with the towel, stopping every now and then to check in on him. once you’ve cleaned his wounds up, you dig around in the first aid kit for some gauze sponges to pat his back dry. “i’m gonna wrap you up for tonight but you should let it dry tomorrow, okay?”

“you got it, nurse” reki chimes back and you bite back a smile, reaching for the gauze dressing in the first aid kit. once you’ve placed the dressing over the worst of his wounds, you grab the gauze roll and begin to wrap it around reki’s torso.

at one point, your fingers brush up against his side and his breath slightly hitches. you freeze, giving him a concerned hum.

“i’m ticklish” he whispers sheepishly and you smirk, continuing to wrap the gauze around his torso.

“storing this information for later, thank you!” you tease causing reki groans. “i didn’t wrap it too tight, did i? can you breathe?”

“i can breathe fine, don’t worry” reki sighs, as you loosely tie the gauze. “you did great, thank you”

once you’re done tying the gauze, you place your hands on top of reki’s shoulders. “good?” you ask.

“good”, reki nods. you take in reki’s bandaged back, his slightly toned shoulders, his red hair pressed against nape of his neck, even the back of his head. he look’s so good with his hair down.

before you even know what you’re doing, you gently press your lips against the nape of his neck. reki freezes, his shoulder tensing before you press another kiss along the back of his neck. he shivers and his whole body melts. you kiss again, this time further up the nape of his neck and into his hair and he lets his head hang forward, sighing slightly. another kiss is placed where his neck meets his shoulder, and he has to bite back a whimper.

“i’m so proud of you”, you whisper into the back of his neck. he reaches around to squeeze your hand. “you did so great tonight—you’re always so great, you never fail to amaze me.”

upon hearing your words, reki feels a lump form in his throat. you always told him that, how proud you were of him for doing things he thought were exceedingly mundane. he remembers that night he was panicking in your bathroom, shaking on his legs like a newborn deer and barely managing to control his breathing. how even then, you were proud of him, for what exactly? he couldn’t answer.

but now, when you tell him that with your lips soft against his nape, in the darkness of his room, he believes you. he’s banged up and unbelievably sore, but he believes you. and further more, he’s feeling proud of himself too, for not disappointing himself, for doing what he had come to do at that beef.

reki shifts around, so that he’s facing you to see that you're smiling at him in a way that he could only describe as pure adoration.

“and...” you start, pushing his bangs back from his forehead. “you looked so fucking hot”.

reki eyes widened slightly before he blows air out of his mouth and rolls his eyes. you grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

“no, no! but you actually looked really good?” you giggled, squeezing his cheeks between your hands. “like, when you nailed that landing off that cliff? and when you dodged him like that? like, i knew you could move, but you were really moving, you know—?”

“y/n—”reki starts, grinning pretty hard as he tries to advert his gaze from yours.

“and you were smiling so hard, like you were actually glowing—beaming! i don’t know, something about the way you looked under those lights they have at S...i actually wanted to bark, like wow—”

“y/n, shut up!” reki is giggling now, flushed right down to his chest. he tries to wrestle your hands from off his face, but you kept your grip.

“don’t act all shy now, mister! you knew exactly what you were doing! when you were like ‘and you’d better remember it’, i was this close to dropping to my knees—”

“y/n—”

“and every one was screaming your name and i was just like ‘yea, that’s my boyfriend! my man! my prince—!’”

suddenly, reki flips you over pinning you arms right beside your head, the both of you giggling.

“oh my god, why are you still going” reki half groans between giggles as you continue to cackle.

“my sweetheart, my baby, my sweat pea, my darling, the future of father of my children, my honey bunch, my sugar pie, the apple of my eye, the light of my life—” you list off, delirious with laughter, not even fighting against reki’s grip on your forearms. he hovers over you, laughing too, his eyes shining and his face beaming

“you need to stop” reki shakes his head slightly, his bangs falling onto your forehead as he leans in for a kiss. he pulls back and you're silent for a moment...until you start rattling off corny pet names again, but this time less giggly.

“my sun, my moon, my stars, my whole world—” you murmur before reki presses his lips against yours. he pulls away and kisses the tip of your nose, the skin slightly under your right eye, and onto your left eyelid.

“you’re so annoying”, reki whispers, letting go of your forearms to hold your face instead.

“you kinda are too”, you whisper back, placing your hands over his, rubbing your thumbs along the back of his hand.

“mmm, i guess we’re destined for one another then” he murmurs and you nod, fervently. reki kisses you sweetly and you hum against his lips. “i love you so much”.

“i love you too, baby” you sigh, putty in reki’s hands. he looks so pretty above you, the lamplight reflecting his eyes and his cheeks still flushed. he looks like the human embodiment of honey.

you turn your head over to glimpse at the alarm clock on his bed side table. 3:37 AM

“our sleeping schedules are so messed up” you groan turning your head back to look up at reki. he blinks, following your gaze towards the alarm clock.

“oh, i usually sleep around his time anyway” he shrugs.

“okay, but you have injuries...so you need to rest to heal” you reason while sitting up slightly, forcing reki to sit up with you. “are you still in pain? i can get you a tylenol”

“i’ll need one in the morning, but i’m fine for now”, he assures you with a grin.

you both climb under his blankets, but he wants for you to sit back against his pillows. already knowing, you hold your arms out for him and he lays between your legs, wrapping his arms around your torso. reki presses his ear to chest, taking in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, as you smooth his hair back.

“goodnight, sweetheart” you whisper, leaving your hand in his hair.

“goodnight, baby” he murmurs into you chest, pressing a kiss there. “i love you, i can’t wait to wake up and see you tomorrow”

you chuckle tiredly. “i love you too, i’ll see you in the morning”.

notes: this was also, long as hell. i apologize! this is honestly the sappiest sh*t i’ve ever written, idk if it can get any sappier than this (it probably can, and will >:3) .