#anyway look at his stupid little teeth and toes

[internalriot]

sometimes i remember i djdnt grow up as a boy and get so mad

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[harrysbelovedd]

my girl [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - little blurb of reader waiting for rafe while she gets ready for the party they’re about to go to. she gets pouty listening to rafe’s angry phone call toward his employee, which is quickly turned to cheeky remarks and smirks when his girl gets his attention.

warnings - fluff, cursing, yelling, illusions to sex

“No I told you it had to be done, fucking today!” Rafe shouts, talking to someone on his phone. He runs a hand over his head, taking a seat on the couch on the balcony. His jaw is clenched tightly, his index and middle fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose.

I rolled my eyes hearing him yell for the last ten minutes, rambling to whoever it is about a deal of some kind. I was sitting in the window seat, in the middle of painting my toes a new pink color Rafe had just bought for me.

The sun shines through the window, warming my skin as I carefully continue my pedicure. I startle at the loud smack against the wooden table outside as Rafe slams his hand against it in anger.

“You’re fucking joking right? Two days—no! I was supposed to have this shit yesterday, god! Shouldn’t have hired such fucking idiots.” He scoffs after loudly shouting, yet again.

The loud noise caused me to flinch and mess up, making me groan as I fix the nail polish. I look out the window, seeing Rafe looking incredibly annoyed and just waiting till he could shout again.

Begrudgingly, I stand from the window seat, rounding the corner through the french doors onto the balcony. Rafe’s gaze is focused at the ground, hard stare, eyebrows tensed and furrowed, and lips pressed together tightly.

That is until, his eyes land on my bare and freshly manicured feet coming into his line of vision. His eyebrows relax, his lips turning up into a smirk. He seems to completely tune out whoever is yelling back in his ear, his attention on me.

“Rafe,” I whine. He looks up, lowering the phone and acknowledging my presence.

“Hey baby,” he chuckles lowly, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Stop making so much noise,” I groan, going to sit next to him. He pulls my legs onto his lap as I sit beside him, hands massaging my smooth skin. “Made me mess up my pedicure like three times,” I pout.

Rafe chuckles, licking his teeth and looking down at my feet. “Oh I’m sorry baby, how rude of me,” he teases. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, y’know.”

I roll my eyes, “Who are you even on the phone with anyway? I was so bored waiting for you. I wanna go to that party,” I whine, pulling at his arm.

He looks down at his phone, hanging up on whoever was on the other end, throwing his phone somewhere on the couch. He leans down, pressing kisses and leaving marks on my neck.

“Look so good baby,” he murmurs, his hands grazing my waist and thighs. My cheeks heat up from smiling so hard, I peel myself off of him, standing up. My hands stay behind my back as I sway back and forth, “Lets go get ready, yeah?”

Rafe groans, “Forget the stupid fuckin’ party. Just want my girl.” He chuckles as I giggle loudly, he pushes me back into the room.

All through the night his phone buzzes continuously with calls from his friends wondering his whereabouts. The phone long forgotten outside.

[willowser]

bakugou makes me so insane like i think he's so choppy and awkward and weird about expressing his feelings for you and he is physically incapable of doing it straightforward—but he will offhandedly gruff out the most romantic things to you.

you're sitting on the kitchen counter as he's chopping veggies for dinner, and he'd brought home the awful news that sero and his long-time—long, long-time—girlfriend had just broken up, and you're like—

"man, that's so sad," frowning down at your feet as you kick them out, glancing over at how focused katsuki is on cutting equally sized potatoes. "can you imagine having to get out in the dating pool after so long? i wouldn't know where to start."

and he's in the zone, so you get a simple hum in response.

now, you don't mean it when you say it, at all, but to be a little shit you poke him lightly in the butt with your toe and wiggle your finger when he glances up at you, at the soggy band-aid wrapped around the tip. "maybe you need to get back out there," you tease, raising your eyebrows when he frowns. "maybe you'll find someone that doesnt nearly cut their finger off in the kitchen or someone that isn't such a crybaby."

it earns you an ugly look, talking like that, and he huffs out his annoyance before going back to the task at hand. "shut up, as if you weren't fuckin' made for me."

and he says it so—unbothered, doesn't even look back at you when your legs finally still and you're stuck just staring at him. because he's too worried about his stupid potatoes.

"what?" you ask, trying not to let your lower lip jut out because he'll hear the tears in your voice right away. "what do you mean?"

katsuki looks anyway, just glances, but at the sheen to your eyes and how big they've gotten, he straightens up immediately. he's alarmed, for a moment, but then it seems to settle what he's said out loud, and he hikes his shoulders up to his ears and pointedly looks away. "y'know what i mean."

and then he scowls and grits his teeth and his cheekies turn so red as you burst into tears.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Little Miss Sunshine | JTK

Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 26k (oops)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!

heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)

“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.

“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.

“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.

You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.

Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.

You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.

“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.

“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.

“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.

You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.

“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”

“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.

“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.

“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.

“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.

Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.

Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.

That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.

It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.

You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.

On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.

“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.

“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.

“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”

“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”

“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”

“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.

“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.

“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.

“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”

“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.

If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.

In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.

Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.

Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.

Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.

He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.

Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.

You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.

You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.

Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.

“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.

You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.

You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.

You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.

“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.

“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.

“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.

“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.

“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.

His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.

“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”

“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.

Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.

“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”

You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.

You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.

You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.

Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.

A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.

He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.

The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.

Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.

‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.

How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.

Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.

Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.

“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.

“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.

“What song was that?”

“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.

“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”

“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.

“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.

“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.

“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.

“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.

“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.

“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.

“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.

“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”

“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.

“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”

You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.

“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.

Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.

“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.

“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.

“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.

“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”

“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.

“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”

“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.

“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”

“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.

“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.

You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.

Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.

Green River.

You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.

He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.

Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.

No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.

“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.

“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.

“Let me remember things I love, Lord

Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite

Walkin' along the river road at night

Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.

Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.

“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.

Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.

He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.

You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.

When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.

You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.

Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.

“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.

“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.

You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.

Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.

“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.

“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.

“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.

“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.

“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”

Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.

Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.

“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”

His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.

Why didn’t he like you?

What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?

Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?

You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.

The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.

You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.

You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.

The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.

His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”

“You’re drunk, Sam.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.

“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.

“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.

“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”

“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.

“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.

“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.

“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”

“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.

“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”

“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”

“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.

“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.

“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.

‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.

“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.

You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.

“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.

“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.

“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.

“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.

“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.

Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.

“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.

“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.

“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.

“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.

“For what?”

“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”

“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.

“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.

“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.

“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.

“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.

“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.

“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.

“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.

“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”

“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.

“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.

“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”

“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.

“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.

He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.

“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.

“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.

“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.

“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”

“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”

“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”

“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”

“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.

You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.

“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.

“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”

“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.

“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.

“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.

“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.

“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”

You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.

“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.

“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”

“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.

“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”

“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.

“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”

“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.

“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.

“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”

“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.

“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”

“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”

“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.

There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.

“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.

“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.

The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.

“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.

“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.

With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.

He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.

You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.

“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.

“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.

He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.

The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.

His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.

Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.

“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.

“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.

“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.

“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.

“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.

His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.

“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.

You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.

“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”

The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.

“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.

“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.

“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.

“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.

“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.

He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.

“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.

“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.

His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.

“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.

“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.

“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.

“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.

“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.

“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.

For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.

This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.

He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.

Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.

A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.

He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.

With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.

“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”

“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.

It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.

The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.

He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.

He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.

He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.

Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.

He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.

With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.

“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.

When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.

To you, it was.

He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.

His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.

He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.

You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.

“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.

“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”

“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.

“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”

“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.

“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.

You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.

“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.

With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.

“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.

“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.

“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.

A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.

Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.

“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.

“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.

Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.

Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.

You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.

“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.

“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.

“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.

“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”

“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.

“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.

“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.

No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.

To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.

“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.

You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.

He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.

His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.

His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.

“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”

You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.

He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.

“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.

Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.

“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.

With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.

When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.

“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.

Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.

You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.

“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.

Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.

As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.

For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.

You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.

“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.

“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.

A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.

Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.

Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.

Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.

“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.

“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.

“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.

You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.

Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.

[netherfeildren]

FABLE OF THE DOG : 3. Little Freak

Series Masterlist; Chapter: 1, Chapter: 2,

Pairing: Joel Miller x FMC

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Cowboy/Heiress AU; Discussions of Grief; Daddy Issues; Parental Neglect; Angst and Fluff; Older Man/Younger Woman; Jealousy; Possessive Behavior; Brat Taming; Extremely Bossy Old Man; Rough Sex; Size Difference; Spanking; DD/lg Dynamics; Dom/Sub Undertones; Forced Orgasm; Dirty Talk (like really forreal); Small Boobie Rep; Biting; Over Stimulation;

A/N: really sticking my finger in the father wound and wiggling it around in this one :))))))

Word Count: 10.3K

Read on AO3

3. Little Freak

You pull your sticky fingers from the damp bed of your underwear, the not enough little orgasm you’d been able to rub out still pulsing hot and cold through your cunt. 

Horrible man—you’ve never wanted anyone or anything as badly as you want him to need you. And no, not a wanting sort of thing, not a wanting sort of desire—that’s not what you’d demand from him. It’s specific, this thing: it’s that you want him to have no choice in the matter, you want him to be forced, to see no other recourse but you because that’s just how necessary you feel to him. 

You want there to be no thought, no compunction in him—only you. 

Even more, because lies are worth nothing here in your own mind in your cold bed—

—You want him to love you. 

The way your father never did. The way no man ever has, not really. 

Face buried in the dark for a moment, you groan softly before sliding belly first off the silk bedding onto your knees, pushing yourself up off the floor unsteadily. You toe your boots off and then step tiptoe on the end of each sock to pull them from your feet. It’d not been a lie—you’re not drunk, limiting yourself to only one tonight, and no liquor, because you knew you needed to be able to focus on the taste of his tongue when you inevitably got your hooks in him, hoping, knowing he’d take your bait and follow, but now, it’s a wholly different sort of buzz zinging through you. 

All him. All man. All Joel.

He’d been flavored of smoked whiskey and mint, a hint of tobacco, and you wish you could’ve been more faithful in your pursuit of enjoying the chewing of the leaves he always has, you’d tried for years but couldn’t bear the texture, the green gnashed between your teeth, earthen and organic. It’s not for you, your tastes veering to something hotter and sweeter. But you’ve always wanted to be just like him anyway, and every endeavor at a connection, no matter how small, had always seemed like a valiant one. 

Stupid birthdays. Disgusting leaves of mint. Dead fathers and daughters and all the different ways we hurt each other. 

Stumbling coltish and uncoordinated, newly birthed down the staircase, you push your way out the back door. He’ll have gone to bed now, you know they’re going up the mountain early tomorrow morning to check on one of the herds, but you’re desperate for one more second of him, being spit out of the house of your dead parents, hunting for the last hint of his presence riding on the fresh air off the Tetons and all this land that’s all yours now. 

You veer left then right, a zigzagging dance across the green lawn until you’re far enough away from the house it’s like you can pretend to ignore the ghosts you’re readying to exorcize. One knee hits the ground hard and stinging, limbs loose and strengthless, you feel the stab of a little rock against the curve of round bone beneath easily broken skin, catching yourself on a palm, another too hard scrape and then you’re rolling over into the grass, settling on your back to look up at the stars. 

There are so many, an infinite number of lights winking like watchful eyes back at you, and you wonder at the sort of childhood that lends itself to laying in the grass like this beside a parent that loves you and wants you and carves space in their life for a child they'd forced into the world. It should be some sort of crime, you think, immediate execution sort of barbarity, to have a child and not love it the way it demands. 

Back of your hands open at your sides, palms to the watching sky, you close your eyes and imagine what it’d be like to have the hand of a father holding it, one that would want you—not a mother because what is she in reality to you but an imagination figure you can’t even truly conjure up? That much of a stranger is what she is—such an alien thing you can’t even bother to dream her. 

Drawing your knees up, you press your bare heels into the earth and the wet placket of your panties is ice cold and sticking uncomfortably now, breeze against it. You shouldn't be thinking about this shit, but you think you might cry anyway, sucking in too fast breaths, forcing them out in attemptedly slow little puffs through your nose. A wave of sudden grief, then a plateau, the nauseating up and down of it all. You should be thinking about him, about your victory tonight, about making him so angry he can’t help himself, about what’ll come next—his skin. But that’s the thing about him, Joel, isn’t it? Always has been—the incongruous, make-no-sense feelings he’s always pulled out of you since you’d first set eyes on him, fourteen years old and tender and so alone you didn’t even know there was another way to be but abandoned. 

A laugh then—huffing and sardonic and again, incongruous, because now you really are crying. Tears leaking back, hot and fat to pool in your ears and salt the earth beneath you—unloading your grief into the grass as if God were beside you. Nothing will grow here again because of you if you’re not careful, and that’s the next worry—

If he never needs you the way you’re demanding of him, you won’t be able to stay here. 

You won't be able to live here and love him and not have him, and you could force him, perhaps, in your own ways. But you’ve done so much of that your whole life—forcing unloving men to look at you and take you into their arms when they’d never really wanted to give you the thing you’d always wanted most. 

The tender truth: it would be so much better if Joel decided to need you because he wants to, because he can’t fathom another way than just that. 

And you don’t think you’ll ever be able to live with anything else besides such. 

Another forced out laugh again—just to feel the feeling of it, go through the motion, mountain air a roundabout gust in your lungs, then to your left:  “What’re you laughing at, weirdo?”

Ellie, long and loping and beautiful, come to your rescue. She throws herself down onto the ground beside you and doesn’t even have to ask a thing about it when she places her rough hand in your soft one. 

Working girl, mover of mountains, changer of lives. 

Ellie has always known how to know you, and it has always been an incredible comfort. 

The two of you lay there for a few quiet moments. Friendship as an entity has always been a strange thing to you who have never understood love in a non-transactional way. But the thing that Ellie has always given you, it has always been an incredibly straightforward sort of understanding, simple—that of one abandoned child to another, perhaps. 

“Are you drunk?”

“Why’s everyone always fucking asking me that?” Said with another laugh but of the real sort this time, despite the bite in your voice. 

“You’re a hazard. What can I say?”

Undeniable. “Oh, shut up.” You dig your nails into the back of her hand, trying to scratch her but probably ruining your manicure instead, she squeezes your knuckles in sideways, hurting you way more than you could manage her. A yelp, and you say, “You know what I’m excited for?”  

“What’s that?”

“Skijoring.”

“Fuck no, dude. I almost died last time.”

You snicker, “Yeah, that was the fun part for me.”

Elbow to the ribs, and, “Asshole,” she laughs. And then you’re quiet again together, still gripped by the hands, and it’s the sort of comfortable only two girls who’ve been together since they were truly girls can be. 

“You see Cassiopeia?” She points her finger way north. 

“Do you think I should stay?” You see it, and easily, and you know if you were somewhere not here, it wouldn’t be so simply found. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Because of Joel.” It isn’t a question. You’ve never said it with words to her, but she’s always known. 

You hum instead of answering, can’t say it out loud anyway just yet. “So you finally asked her.” Dina, she knows what you mean.

And Ellie hums now in turn too. The both of you are so fucked up. Can’t say a thing out loud. 

“And?” 

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Good.”

“Just good?”

Ellie groans loud and long, baying goat, and you tell her so, which gets another knock to the ribs. “Turn around and don’t look at me so I can tell you.”

You roll over towards the mountains and feel her face the house where she doesn’t see ghosts like you do. 

“But you’re not allowed to say anything—just say okay. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I think—well, you know…,” she gruffs, voice dipping low and dropping off before she can say the words out loud again also. Everything’s a secret code here, even the stuff that shouldn’t be.

“You think?”

“You’re such a fucker. I know.”

You hum again but the good and happy sort, pressing your lips together to keep the misty eyed smile at bay. “Okay,” you say back just as low and just as gruff. 

“S’why I think you should stay,” she adds. “If I can find happy here, so can you.”

“I’ve never been able to before.”

“But you’re different now.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah—can see it, you know. And this place is different now too—will be different.” 

“I was afraid to come back for such a long time. It seemed like the worst thing in the world.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, before she says: “You’re not supposed to be afraid of your father.” A very obvious thing—or at least it should be. 

You feel her turn to look at the back of your neck, and you peer over your shoulder at her and when your eyes meet, she looks so sad, like she’s so sorry for you but without the pity, and you do understand what it is she’s saying despite never having had that fearless experience. 

“Aren’t you?” A shrug of your shoulder and a helpless laugh but also maybe with real humor accompanying it. Because yes, you’re not supposed to be. You always were anyway. It’s funny in an impossible to understand way. 

A beat and then, “Can I say something fucked up?”

“Yeah.”

“He isn’t here for you to be afraid of anymore.”

Funniest of all, you’re the most sad about this. And what you don’t say to her, perhaps for shame or that child’s feeling of having done something wrong but not necessarily understanding what that wrong is—sometimes it’s inevitable, missing the monster. 

“Maybe you needed him to die.” Yeah, fucked up. You’d already thought the same thing and were chock full of guilt for it. “Maybe it was like—like I don’t know. It was never going to be the way it should have between you, but now you can remember him, fuck, I don’t know—different. Not that you wanted him to die, but now the reality of him isn’t here for you to see, so you can just remember it all however you like or not.”

“So I should lie to myself?”

“Why not? There are worse things you could do. There are worse things you do do.”

You snort. “Is this what your method is?”

“Yeah. Like—like sometimes, when I’m so happy I can’t believe it’s me feeling it because she makes me that happy, Dina,” she says her name with love, “I pretend nothing from before was ever the way it was, and it’s only here and now and me and Dina and the ranch and there was no shitty, abandoning father and no dead mom and no nothing and only Joel is my dad and it’s all always been okay.”

Joel. 

At the center of everyone’s happy dream, why is it always him? 

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll try it.” She reaches behind her back then, pawing at your hip until you give her your hand again, and you were wrong. She’s changed too. She can say things now. She’s always had those too perceptive eyes and that too big heart, and she’s changed now in a way that makes her not afraid to let it out and use these things anymore. 

You tell this changed Ellie now: “You know that like— that like… I don’t know how to say it. When a person’s life seems like it should be perfect, and you have everything. Everything should be good, right—but it’s just not. Your parents should be kind, they should be loving. They should be attentive and give a shit what happens to you, and it probably seems that way to the whole rest of the world except for the people that have to witness the humiliation behind closed doors, but it’s really just not, and then they probably look at me and wonder how my life could be anything but rose colored, and it all just seems a little silly and empty. Doesn’t it?”

“Nah—don’t know. My life was always shit before I came here and found Joel and Dina and all of them and you. And I'd seen enough to recognize what you were and how it was. Nothing ever looked rose colored to me—just looked like more shit.” You laugh again out loud now and for real, squeezing more tears out over your hot cheeks when she joins you in the sad hilarity as well. 

When her voice is finally steady from the belly laughs again, she says, “It’s a grief pyramid, we’re all just going around hurting each other in the name of our ghosts and call it an excuse, an offering to their memory and act like it’s okay. But it’s fucked up. That’s why I decided to stop. I stopped pushing her away, I told her—well, you know. I told her.”

“Say it, loser.” You bump your butt into hers. 

“Not to you—leave me alone.”

Say it, say it, say it, you sing. 

“I love her, fuck off.” And a little clog of emotion sticks wetly in your throat.

That’s the real question, honestly: How do you make someone love you? How do you make yourself into someone people can love?

“It’s a grief pyramid,” she repeats. “You have to choose to stop adding to it.” And she’s quiet again for a long time, and you can’t fathom how it is one stops building onto something they’d been born into. You think on it so long the feel of her palm clutching yours starts losing itself to sleep in the grass and the breeze comes off the mountains like a blanket over the two girls who’d become women before them until she says again, “Anyway, that’s usually the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid.”

-

“Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Nothin’.”

“Nope. You’re definitely doing something.” He angles the phone away from her prying eyes, trying to shield his shame with the palm of his hand. 

“Mind your own damn business, kid.”

“Is that an Instagram account?” Ellie howls like a banshee, Tommy coming up behind him to reach over his shoulder to try and rip the phone out of his hand. He holds it out of his reach. 

It’s just that he couldn’t help himself. He’d heard the boys all talking about it on the ride back down after their long day of work—your Instagram page—as if he knew what the fuck that was. He’d had to search it up on the internet when he’d gotten a moment alone in the bunk, cracking open a beer, muscles exhausted from the hard ride and having to haul a heifer out of a bramble she’d gotten herself caught in, he’d realized it was a thing young people put photographs and such on, a social media thing. But when he’d gone to search your name, it’d told him he’d needed to make an account of his own. Growling in frustration, he’d slowly made his way through the process, too big fingers punching at the too tiny keys of the stupid phone you’d forced on him. 

“Can you shut up and just show me how to work this thing. And stop your goddamn howling—Dina’s gonna think she’s dating a hyena not a girl.” She slides into the seat next to him, taking the phone from his grip to finish setting up the account and type in your name, a deck of pictures loading up for him to hunt through like a vandal. Photographs of you in all sorts of different places, draped in fine clothes and jewels and your fucking perfect ass right there for everyone to see. 

Oh my God.

“How many people can see this shit?” He asks Ellie, angling the phone back towards her. 

“You’re so nosey, man,” she chastises. “Thirty-seven thousand followers.” And a long, impressed whistle from Tommy who he’s going to punch in the face after he’s done with this. 

He swallows hard. “What’s that mean?”

“That thirty-seven thousand people are following her and looking at her pictures, Joel,” his brother says. “Man, how fuckin’ old are you?”

“Yeah, you’re not that old, Joel. Come on.”

“Go away now. I’m busy,” he tells the both of them, going back to doom scrolling through your pictures. One’s of you in barely any clothes at all, an itty bitty orange bikini, hands on your ass and sand where his tongue should be.

Joel feels insane again. 

“Pervert.”

“Joel… I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think there’s steam comin’ out of your ears, man.”

“Fuck off.”

Blessedly, they leave him to suffer in peace after a while, and thank Christ for that because eventually, the ex-boyfriend shows up in the scroll of pictures too. There for everyone to see in posts dated several weeks back—even one of the two of you kissing, you on his lap, fuck that. Good looking, shiny-boy sort. Joel’s left eye twitches at the sight of the sort of man he has never been, could never be for you, someone of your caliber. 

The memory of your cunt grinding against him last night flashes through his mind and his cock throbs once and hungry. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, adjusting in the suddenly too tight seat of his jeans. 

A clusterfuck is what it is—this sudden melding of the memory of the girl-child you used to be, the one that up until only recently lived in his mind, good and golden, and the woman you are now. With both figures meeting together with all the characteristics he’d always admired in you, your kind heart, your honesty, your generosity. You’ve turned out to be an exceptional woman, and it’s difficult to let the distant perception from before meet the lust he feels for you now and grapple with it without feeling sick to his stomach about it all.

It’s all an inevitability though, anyway. He knows this just from the rewind memory play of last night, the taste of your mouth and the little sounds you'd made for him, because of him, the way your hips had rolled over his lap desperately seeking. 

You’re ending up on his cock one way or another—inevitable. 

He’s never claimed to be a good and honorable man—never played the part of one either. He’s not about to start now. 

Clicking on the picture of your sun bronzed ass in the tiny bikini again, he imagines himself biting and eating it, shifting his legs restlessly, taking another long pull of his beer. Tapping twice on the image, he tries to zoom in to the apex of your thighs—he’s going to hell, he’s so fucked up, doesn’t matter—when a little heart appears in the center of the image. He clicks it again and the heart appears once more, refusing to zoom into what he wants to see up close. Fucking piece of shit phone and fucking Instagram—frustrated and hard and pissed off at the fact he’s yet to see you all day, he locks the phone, slamming it face down on the kitchen table, and downs the rest of the can. 

If he doesn’t get a hold of himself soon he’s going to burst, gut all twisted up into a hot knot of coal. Sick with jealousy and anger and lust, aggressive, the taste of your sweetness ringing in his ears and the sound of your moans on his tongue—his head is not on straight and he better get it fixed quick or all this pent up frustration is going to come out with teeth to take a chunk of flesh out of you. 

Groaning loudly, he lets his head fall back, thumbs digging into the sockets of his eyes until he sees stars and not the sight of your slick swollen mouth made that way by himself. He wonders if you slept well last night, if you thought of him, if you’d made yourself come the way he’d ran home to the little foreman’s cabin Kelly had given him years ago, to do himself. Jumping in the shower to jack his leaking cock to the image of what it would’ve been like if he’d been brave enough to pull that flimsy little tease of a thong to the side, let his cock out and force it inside of you, make you take it until you were crying and coming so hard you’d never think to even look at another man again, much less kiss him. 

He should’ve hit that fucker harder. He should’ve kissed you longer. 

He needs to force you to take all of those goddamn half naked pictures down. No one should get to look at you like that except for him, and he doesn’t give a fuck how insane he sounds. 

Outside, he can hear the cowboys hooting and hollering at something, egging each other on louder and louder, the scuffle of them shoving each other and horsing around. He sighs once and long, too tired to deal with their shit right now. All he needs is an evening of peace to get his head on straight and relax and will his boner down for a few hours. He’s acting like a goddamn randy teenager, walking around hard and aching half the day. 

Heaving himself out of the chair, back hurts, he grabs another beer before he’s pushing the bunk door open to the sight of half the team huddled together and peering around the corner of the bunk towards the house. 

“The hell’s got y’all clucking like a bunch of hens?” He asks, coming around them to stop dead in his tracks when he lays eyes on what it is that’s got them all worked up. 

That same ass he’d just been trying to zoom in on, right there in the flesh for the whole ranch to ogle at. Stretched out on one of the sun loungers from the deck, dragged out into the center of the lawn with a little table set up next to you. You’d even gotten someone to scrounge up a huge umbrella, a misting fan spinning lazily, spitting a damp sheen of water every few minutes, a drink and a speaker playing some girly song, whole goddamn set up for all of these fuckers to stand here and take an eyeful of your perfect ass. 

Joel tries to take deep breaths, counting back from ten in his head—fails. He’s going to be calm and cool and collected—not. He isn’t going to lose his temper—sure. 

Fuck that. 

He’s going to spank your ass so hard you can’t sit for a week.

“If you all don’t find something to do in the next thirty seconds,” he growls at them all through clenched teeth, “I swear I’ll have you slingin’ shit for a month.” The can in his grip pops loudly between his fingers. 

They all take one peek at the look on his face and scatter like chicken shit until it’s only Ellie left smirking beside him.

“Take this,” he shoves the can at her and starts towards you. 

“Bro—” He ignores her. Hey! She calls after him, voice demanding now, stopping him in his tracks before he can go get exactly what he’s been denying himself from the moment you kissed him two nights ago. 

Giving him that look she gets when she needs to remind him she knows exactly who he is and that he can’t ever hide it from her, she chews on her cheek for a second before she says, and he doesn’t mistake it, it’s a warning: “She’s a real peach. You know that. Pretty and soft and sweet, but easily hurt. Needs gentle handling, even when she wants to pretend otherwise.”

It pisses him off. Bad. “You think I don’t fuckin’ know that? I understand her—” thumb to chest. Because he did—does. Because he thinks that he really always has. It’s undeniable that he has what you have, what Ellie has. Even what Oswald Kelly himself had had and what he’d seen in Joel when he’d decided to save the life of a no good man in a no good spot with a no good future in front of him—that sadness, that lost doggedness about you all that makes you so like one another, even despite your immeasurable differences.  

The two of them look at each other for another long moment, and Ellie knows, Ellie always understands. With a roll of her eyes she spins on her heel, muttering to herself, slugging back Joel’s discarded beer.

Slowly, he rounds back towards you, afraid as if he were looking down the barrel of a gun, just as dramatic, as well. Objectively, he knows you’re doing this on purpose, to piss him off and rile him up and get a blow out reaction out of him. He tries to remind himself of it as he marches towards you, and if he were smarter or less inclined to take your bait, he’d take a beat to finish that count to ten reversal in his head and calm the fuck down before he gets to you—but honestly, he just doesn’t feel like it. 

All he sees instead is the baby pink barely there string bikini you’ve got on, the slope of your back gleaming in the sun, slicked in something shiny, the damp from the mister, the lush curve of your ass and the shine of your hair resting face down on your folded arms. 

You’re all sunkissed everywhere, and he’d really rather just give you what you want already. 

“Get up,” he growls down at you. 

One eye winks open, peering up at him before you press up on your elbows to take in the sight of him scowling down at you, and he can’t help it when his eyes flit down to the sight of your breasts cupped precariously in the tiny bikini, skin all sun flushed red against the soft baby pink fabric. You look like you’re made of sugar and sweet fruit and like you’ve come here specifically to ruin him and his whole life and all his self control. 

Hmm? You smile up at him wide and teasing. Oh, he’s feeding right into your shit, and you piss him off so badly. 

He’s never been this hard in his entire life, he’s even made dizzy with it. 

The little wisps of hair at your temples are sweat soaked and curling, looking silky soft. A thousand little details about you and your body—the white of your smile and the flushed heat of your cheeks, sun burnished bridge of your nose starting to freckle—that he can’t help but notice. 

Get. Up, he grits through clenched teeth. No one in the whole world deserves to see you like this, looking so beautiful, especially not him. Shading your eyes with the palm of your hand, you scrunch your nose up at him, and he’s got half a mind to bark at you to not do that when he’s around or he’s really gonna lose it. Your smile beams brighter. 

“What’s wrong, Joel? Havin’ a rough day?”

“I swear to Christ, if you don’t get your ass up and in the house right this minute, I’m going to put you over my knee right here in front of your whole ranch to witness, little girl.”

You smile up at him again and a muscle at the corner of his jaw flutters madly, he’s about to crack a fucking molar. “Hmm, I don’t think so.” And you flop back down again so that the soft of your ass jiggles slightly, arching your back just a little so that he’s growling once, right before he’s gripping you by the elbow and pulling you upwards against his chest and dragging you all bare and slippery limbed to your feet. You smell like coconuts and sweet sweat and saliva pools heavy beneath his tongue. 

“If you wanna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you like one. You get me?” He yanks you towards the house screeching like a banshee, let go of me, you fucking psycho, you howl. A too little fist swings towards his face, and he catches it in his palm, squeezing tight and feeling your thumb tucked inside your fist. 

“Stop that—you’re gonna hurt yourself.” More squawking and howling, skinny wrist slipping from his grip to take another swing at him. “Don’t even know how to throw a goddamn punch—Jesus fucking Christ. Don’t tuck your thumb.” He hauls you up higher against himself, getting a better grip around your waist so he can carry you bodily up the steps of the deck. 

You jam your heels into his shins, and he huffs and puffs, trying to keep his hold on you. I’m gonna kick your ass, you screech again, scratching and pinching at his forearms. 

Joel is too old and too goodman tired for this. 

“No, you’re not. And if you think I’m gonna let the whole goddamn ranch and all the boys stare at your bare ass all day, you’ve got another thing comin’ for you.”

“Well, I’ve gotta show it to someone, don’t I?” You sass back, trying to elbow him in the throat while you’re at it. Blood boiling, catching you by the small joint, he pulls your arm bent behind your back, other forearm banding against your stomach so that his hand is splayed at your hip, feeling the satin soft skin, slippery in your suncream. 

And sure, he might be too old or too tired for this, but his cock is still hard as anything at the feel of you all against him like this. 

Pushing the door open with his hip, he shoves you inside. The late afternoon sun paints the cool interior in shades of gold and beaming white; everything is beautiful and pristine as always, and yet tinged with the red of his temper and lust. His temples beat in tune with his too fast, pumping heart. 

“Where’s Dina?” He’s still got you caught in his grip. He does not plan to let go. 

“Let me go, you mother ffff—” He gives you one hard shake, hearing your teeth click and rattle. Little doll caught in his grip. He can do anything to you—and you won’t be able to stop him. 

“Where is she?” He asks again, and something in his voice must snap you alert because you settle for a brief second, a little shiver skipping down the length of your spine that he follows to your full ass. He tugs you back, barely moving and slow, just that little bit further into himself so that the lush curve presses against the hard length of his cock—and there it is, the little knowing gasp, finally understanding what it is you’ve gotten yourself into.

-

“She—” Your belly is suddenly so hot and tight, heartbeat starting up behind your navel. Suddenly knowing what it is this is about to be, and yet now finally confronted with the reality of it for the first time, you can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll be like. “She—I don’t know. She went into town, I— I think,” you stutter, brain short-circuiting, desperate to feel that hardness again. “Waiting for Ellie—they’ve got plans there tonight.” His entire hand is wrapped around your forearm pressed against the small of your back, long, thick fingers overlapping against each other, and you roll up on your tiptoes, trying to arch your back further into him. 

He grunts once, exasperated, and then shoves you forward again, rough enough you’re stumbling over your own two feet, full on aggressive panting bull at your back. 

That’s good, he says so low you barely catch it before he’s pushing you up against the wall by the front door, cheek smushed against the silk printed wallpaper. 

Your mother decorated this room years ago, melding the masculine taste of your father and her love for European decor. The walls, wrapped in hand painted English wallpaper on the top half, and paneled at the bottom with a mahogany so fine it gleams an amber golden glow when the afternoon sun shines in through the windows just so. 

Everything beautiful; still, even after all this time. 

He holds you there for a long moment, his breathing quick and shallow, bellows of hot air at the nape of your neck, disturbing the escaped hair from your claw clip curling there. 

“Joel?” You ask once, voice wavering just a little bit because he suddenly feels so large and imposing behind you that something like trepidation beats behind the soft of your kneecaps. You know he worked all day, and his big body is a steaming blaze of heat, waves rolling off of him to burn the naked length of your back and limbs. 

He pulls your arm trapped between his forearm and your stomach to the small of your back to join the other, holding you there in a lock pinned against the wall, reaching up slowly to let your hair down, long and swinging. You listen to the clatter of your clip against the hardwood floor, and then he’s circling the side of your neck, the tiny beating pulse held in the cup of his palm so that it feels as if it’s reverberating back into your head, a staccato rhythm, and echoing all through your body. A chiming bell, ringing and ringing and ringing, telling you that it’s time now. His hand smooths down the slope of your throat to your shoulder, and you listen to the rumbling half humming moan he lets out at the feel of your sweat sticky skin, then down the flat wing of your scapula, thumb nail scraping against the edge of your jutting bone for the way he’s got your arms trapped behind you. 

You let out a high pitched whine, almost a scream, another puff of sound in the assimilation of his name, pleading now, rolling up onto your tiptoes again to push your ass back against the hard of his cock. Everything is so, so sensitive. 

Quit, he snaps once and mean. Ordering. In a tone that says he’s in charge, and finally. 

It’s such a relief. 

You whine again, higher, needier, like you’ve never felt before, and there’s a nauseating thrum of electrified butterflies in your tummy, sticky sweet and cloying for attention. Joel, please, again and the wings beat faster. You’re sure he’ll enjoy the sound of your begging, it’s just something you know. Tiptoes straining higher so that the soles of your feet ache, he smooths that work roughened palm down the slope of your spine, thumb against your vertebrae, feeling the round little notches of bone beneath sensitive skin until he’s reached the twin dimples at the low of your back right above your ass, and presses there and hard—mean—so it hurts. Keening loudly, you crush your cheek harder, harder against your mother’s wallpaper until the bone aches, until there’ll surely be an indent of your shape left in the wall, and his thumb digs even harder anyway, gripping you tight enough to bruise. 

This is how it’ll be—surprising, but also not. In all your years of imagining, you still don’t know what it is you expected.

“You’re carved so fine,” whispered against your skin and gooseflesh spreads like wildfire, nipples going tight and aching. His nose skims the slope of your nape, smelling you. “S’like you’re made of sugar. Is that what you’ll taste like too?” And his words are slurred, drunk-like and you feel the same way also, legs on the verge of giving out.

You press your hips back again, desperate for any sort of pressure, and he jostles you once, hard enough you bite your tongue. Quit moving, he snaps, shoving his knee between your legs and spreading you wide and immobile, thigh hooked over his own so that the toes of that leg barely skim the ground and now you’re precariously balanced on one foot, held up and pinned entirely by him. 

 Caughtcha, he murmurs.

You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. 

The palm at the low of your back splays wide, his long fingers reaching from side to side and pressing hard against your skin and then all of a sudden he’s gone, and only for a second, before he’s back and slapping you hard and painfully stinging on the ass. A downward swipe of his thick fingers so that it really fucking hurts, and then the palm is back at the small of your waist, hooked thigh over his leg, unable to move, unable to do anything except take it. 

He presses your belly into the wall, and the pressure is so intense and so deep—his breathing is so rough behind you. You know he worked the mountain all day, he should be exhausted, but the strength he’s trapping you with belies the possibility. 

His hand goes away from your back again, and he’s spanking you once more, and you can’t tell if it’s harder or not this time, if it hurts worse than the previous, but the fire pain of it snaps all the way down from your thigh to your calve, pooling there in a knot of painful ache. An animal baying noise warbles in your throat, he tuts once, a cooing click of his tongue and cups your ass right at the rose of pain he’s left, kneading the skin gently, palpating the hurt like he’s looking for the physical imprint of it beneath your skin. 

“Yeah, baby? Like that?” You sing the little animal song for him again. “S’what you needed, right?” His voice now is not the Joel-voice you’ve always known, but it is the one you’ve always dreamed of. The kneading fingers slide whisper soft down the back of your thigh, up again, down again, callused skin scraping. On the up again, his thumb catches at the edge of your bathing suit wedged between the cleft of your ass.

And lest he thinks he’s bested you, you say, “Yes, that’s what I needed,” and he laughs a rough laugh that makes him sound like he’s been gutted. 

He squeezes the thick of your ass between his thumb and forefinger, an almost pinch and then smoothes his thumb beneath the pink edge along the curve, precariously close to danger. The sound of his name loses meaning, you’re praying it in a litany almost, over and over, begging. Hush now, he gentles, more in a sort of voice you recognize while your heart beats so hard against the wall it must surely sound like someone’s knocking on the front door for entry, like it must surely send echoes all through the ghost-house. 

His smoothing thumb continues its journey until it’s between your thighs, pulling the wet lycra wide away from your skin so that he can tuck the rest of his fingers flat against your cunt, and now he’s there. 

One of you says the word fuck another lets out a whimpering sort of noise—you’re not sure which is who, it’s all only a cunt-throbbing need you know he’s feeling leak and pulse against his hand. 

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs all reverence like. Joel—touching your cunt and sounding like he can’t believe it. His hand slides back along the curve of your sex, and you really are so wet the sound of it is slick and lewd, his fingertips at your entrance, a gentle probing and then forward again, a circling not touch around your clit, like he’s learning for himself this new little place that belongs to him now. Your mouth falls open on a spit-full moan, your eyes closed because you don’t even have strength now to keep them open and watchful. You’re so wet for me, he says again and again like he can’t believe it all either. 

He drags his finger flats against you once more and then another time and then taps twice with all four of them, two little almost slaps to your clit that make a sticky wet splashing sound. Good girl, and you don’t know which part of you he’s talking to. You’re practically leaking onto the floor, trying to widen your hips, arch your ass back further and present your cunt to him for fucking. And then his fingers side to side in a swiping motion and fast. 

Oh God. Oh God. Inside, inside, you need him inside. He needs to go inside. 

“Please, pleeease, Joel. Oh, please.” Delirious.

“Please?” His fingers move fast and your vision goes entirely away. “Please what? Please what? You, please.” He switches front and backwards again, and then two fingers draw a little ghost circle at your entrance. You, please, he says again. His hand flips over, palm facing downwards, and he starts to slowly, slowly press a single tip of one inside. “Please behave. Please don’t— don’t—fuck— please gimme a second to breathe, to think, to catch up. God, fucking tight little cunt. I’ll never fit in here, baby.” 

Your vision whites, then blacks, then goes blinding bright and colorless—zero frequency. Up to the first knuckle, and he wiggles the tip inside, making you cry and squirm, pulls out and then two fingers are pressing inside and downwards. “We’re gonna have to take it so slow in this little cunt.” Shit—shit.

“Oh my God, yes.” 

Your hips shiver and shake as he penetrates you, his forehead tucked against your shoulder so he can look down at what he’s doing, and drool slides along your mother’s wallpaper from the corner of your mouth as he pushes his fingers in and out of you so slowly, the slick slide, the pressure against your front wall so heavy, and spread so wide like this but held so immobile—it all makes you feel like you’ll wet yourself with such little control over your body. A few slides in and out again, “Good girl, just a little more,” before he’s wedging a third into the mix, trying to put it inside of you as well. A little more? The stretch is too much, burning, and you wail and cry, arching again but this time to get away instead of steal more. 

“Okay, okay. It’s alright,” he soothes. Hush. “It’s okay.” He pulls his fingers entirely out and covers the slick mess of your mound with his entire palm possessively. Rubbing soothingly at your wet, his fingers slide over the satiny smooth skin of your lips. 

“You’re all bare,” he whispers, shocked.

You swallow hard once, shoulders and neck starting to ache. “I— I got lasered.”

“Lasers?” Voice confused. 

“Yeah.” You swallow again, can’t catch your breath. “Yes.”

“Gotta see.”

He pulls you from the wall, shuffling you like gambling cards in his hands, that’s what this is, a gamble, so that you’re facing him as he walks you backwards, bikini bottoms askew and cunt bare to your parents living room; your dead father’s best man about to fuck it raw. 

Pressing up on your tiptoes at the same time that you’re tugging him low by the collar and the slightly too long hair that curls over it to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips with eyes kept open. You need to see his face, his reaction, that even though he’s all rough, he’s still Joel and he’ll still take care of you now. 

One strong forearm bands around your back, pressing you up high and close to his chest, fingers tangling in the bikini string at your back so that it pulls tight and bites into your skin, the other reaching around the back of your thighs to take a squeezing handful of you ass as he lifts you clean off the ground, lumbering slowly towards the couch while the two of you stare at each other with something that smells suspiciously of wonder. 

On the high ground now, you stare down at him, held as you are and kiss him again, for real this time, with tongue, an eating of his mouth. Trying to taste him as deep as you can go, digging your manicured fingernails into the rough whiskered planes of his cheeks until he grunts roughly.

Showing him that you can hurt him too. 

His knees hit the edge of the couch, one palm going to the back to hold himself steady as he sets you down, following your path to fold over you nose to nose. Watching each other for a blink, predator, predator, lashes tangling and then his mouth is sliding wetly over your burning cheekbone, drawn out groan like dying. Down to the hinge of your jaw where he sucks sharp once and his tongue flutters down the column of your throat, tasting your pulse, his palms everywhere at the same time too. Over your shoulders and down your goosefleshed arms, cinching at the nip of your waist to slide around your hips and to your ass, pulling you forward and open when he goes to his knees on the floor at the edge of the sofa between your spread thighs, with you draped diagonally across the cool leather that sticks to your sweaty, coconut flavored skin. 

One palm slides down your chest, dragging over your breast, the other catching at your nipple with this thumb, nail scraping and pulling the wet fabric along with him, baring you to the first glance of his eyes. A sound that’s a little like a whimper precedes his latching mouth, sucking hard and with teeth so you’re arching and crying and when your head rolls to the side, eyes bleary and barely seeing, he’s got your small breast in his mouth, jaw hinged wide and hungry. His teeth scrape, one wide palm sliding over your thigh to the back, pushing your knee up high and open to your shoulder, lips skim over your belly, smell so fucking good, sharp edge over your hip bone and the lave of his tongue, taste so fucking good.

“I’m gonna eat your cunt.” Bikini askew, one little tit bared to the cold AC, nipples hard enough to hurt, he pinches it once and mean and stretches the soaking wet center gusset of your bottoms wider.

He looks and looks and grins and everything inside of you pulses. 

Boyish smirk and a cocky glance up at you, oh, pretty, “Perfect little princess pussy, huh? I see now.” He sticks his thumb into his mouth, pulls it out with a pop to rub it spit slick against your clit. Yeah, yeah, like that, and you can’t help the whining cry. 

Pushing your other thigh up high, the grin turns to something a little more menacing before he bends to your cunt, whole mouth covering you there like he’d swallowed your breast. His thumbs dig painfully into the backs of your thighs like they’d dug in your back, leaving little spots of hurt all over your body is what he’s doing, spreading you wide open.  

Every touch is possessive, full of ownership. 

“What are you doing to me?” He groans as he eats your cunt, doing exactly as he said he would, flat of his tongue licking all over you, dipping inside. Purse of his lips then and he’s sucking hard and pulsing in quick successions, and there’s your first one—little gush of slick and your belly so tight it hurts, you need something inside of you so bad—your first orgasm forced from you and onto his tongue, swallowed down into his stomach. He groans like an animal—doubles his efforts, tongue spearing inside, pulling away to press two fingers in—fuck, fuck, and you grab hold of your own thigh to keep yourself open for him, knees trembling beside your ribs. 

The hand not inside slides across you, smearing slick over your belly, it’s everywhere, and presses down as he crooks those two fingers forward. His hair’s all fucked up, eyes glazed a maniacle shade of hazel that makes him more intimidating than you’ve ever seen him and also hotter than you could’ve ever dreamed, that boy’s smile again. 

His mustache is soaked in you. “Little pussy’s so small ‘nd wet, baby.” He wiggles his fingers, pets against the blindingly sensitive place inside of you. “Feel that?” Fingers twisting—almost too much, the stretch burns already and just like this. 

“Please, put it in,” you beg stupidly, a tear leaks and then another, not at all smart of self preserving. 

He clicks his tongue, and you can’t tell if it’s soothing or condescending or both, your eyes screwing shut at what he’s doing to you, trying to paw at his shoulders and pull him towards you at the same time. “Can’t—too small.”

No, no— His palm at your belly presses down, fingers petting forward, again, again, head bent once more to suck on your clit, licking it roughly if a tongue can be rough because it’s heavy and strong and intentional—I can take it. There’s your next one, obeying the come here order of his fingers. Mid-come and he’s forcing that painful third one from before inside, and now it’s split open and sloshing wetly—your cunt—hiccupping into another left over shaky orgasm, fucking hurts a little bit. More tears and his soft chuckle—you’re really in it now. 

When he slurps at your leaking again, fingers leaving you to gape empty and wanting, your hips shiver, trying to shake him away and rock against him at the same time. He says something you can’t make out, can’t even open your eyes, you just need a second, you swear, and then the clink of his belt, the shuffle of clothes, and he’s pulled his shirt over his head—you’ve enough mind left to open your eyes for this. 

He’s so strong, built for fucking and working and heaving. You knew this already, you hadn’t needed to see him without clothes to know. 

And all yours now, too. 

Your fingertips paw greedy at his chest, muscular, the thickly corded arms and shoulders. One hand wraps around the slim of your ankle, manacling you while he undoes his fly, your heart skips with the split of the zipper’s teeth and pulls his cock out, letting it fall heavy on your stomach—a threatening, aggressive thing. It drags against your cunt, so big it doesn’t stand up straight and jutting like the others you’ve been used to, but bobs low and hanging.

Reaching forward you flit the tips of your fingers over the wide head—barely there butterfly touch—and your hand looks comically small next to the thing as you pet at the dark head swelling out of the thick skin around it, soft and burning hot—he growls like a wolf at your touch.

 “I’ve never— I’ve never… with one like…”

He pulls your hand forward, wrapping it tightly around the thick length with his fist over yours. “Nah, baby. You’ve never had one like this. It’s alright—I’ll show you how to take it.” 

You’ve half a mind to roll your eyes at him, but he distracts you with the soft touch at the split indentation in your knee from your romp in the grass last night. “What happened here, little thing?” His words and his touch are so soft, eyes warm and caring, as if he weren’t threatening at all, as if that thing that’s about to split you in half and make you cry hasn’t started to slick itself back and forth between your legs, parting the lips of your cunt, sticky sound on every pass with his fist wrapped around himself—too many things happening to you all at once by his hand. 

“A rock hiding in the grass last night.” You start to roll your hips minutely against him, presenting your similarly torn palm for his appraisal, no, no, my poor baby, he kisses the little hurt while the fat head swipes over your clit, pressing against your hole—a little gasp and you circle his wrist at your knee, anchoring yourself. 

He frowns. “Last night when?”

“After you left me.” Pouting back. 

Cooing once and low, “You shouldn’t go out alone at night, anything could happen,” pressing again at the mouth of your cunt. Fuck, now— 

“Wasn’t alone—”

The head notches and stays, “Without me then— Deep breath now, baby.” He grunts on the first push inside, and your back arches tight as a bowstring, hand splaying wide at the center of his belly and his long fingers wrap around your breast tight, holding you in place, deep breath, he says again. 

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh my God.”

He pitches his hips forward once, just a little, just a small shove, and you tense, sharp whine hiccuping through you. “Oh, it’s too big,” pressing harder at his belly as he edges deeper again, an inch and then another, literally splitting your cunt open for himself, thumb swiping slow and gentle over your clit, forcing little shudders of pleasure out of you amidst the pain. 

“See, told ya.” It’s slow, slow until he makes it fit, watching himself sink inside of you the entire time, until you’re rooted on his cock, breath coming is quick, sucking pants, puffs out through your nose, body flushing hot and then even hotter. He folds over you, groaning loud and long, deep grinds and small shoves, and then it’s so much, too much until there’s no room left inside of you at all, that dull ache pain of his tip pressing against your cervix. 

You’re going to be so sore tomorrow, it hurts, it hurts, but he plays with that place anyways, covering you with his body to press his face against your breasts, mouthing wet and hot at your nipples, biting hard to distract you from the pain inside. Your fingers twist in his hair, hot and damp at the roots, sweaty musk smell of a hard day's work, masculine, making you wetter for him. “It’s alright… it’s alright. You can take it. You’re such a good girl.” And then a fuck, and he’s mumbling your name, how good you are again, how well you’re taking your fucking. 

“This what you wanted, right? To get caught on my cock?” The palm cupping your ass tips you up and forwards, forcing him inside just that little bit more. Your knees are at your shoulders, folded entirely under him, and the tip of his cock is still there where it hurts the most while he pants and sweats on top of you. A cramp of heat moves like lightning down your back and something goes loose in your cunt, your womb contracting once, accepting its fate as you start to come around him, milking him deep inside of you. You start to cry for real now too, fingernails dragging against his naked back looking for blood—sobbing, actually, not just crying. 

He bites your breast hard, grinds further not letting the orgasm stop, “God—I’m so fuckin’ deep. No one’s ever been this deep, right? Tell me, baby,” he begs, sitting back and dragging you boneless, still coming, into his lap, little girl splayed wide over his knees on the floor. You sink further down onto his cock, and he kisses your hot cheeks, letting your cunt drip down him. His belt digs bruisingly into the back of your thighs and it all hurts—he really is so deep now, head tucked firmly at your cervix, and he feels like he’s getting thicker, harder, like he just needs to be sunk deep like this, as deep as he can get so that all your cunt needs to do is work him until it milks the come right out of him. 

Your head lolls back on your neck, supported at the edge of the sofa. “No more—” You don’t know if you mean it, but it is just on the verge of too much now. You’re so sensitive. 

“Yes more.” He starts to lift his hips again, pulling back and shoving, not a lot, but enough that it’s like a little punch inside of you each time. “As much as I say.”

Whining, “No—I can’t.” You roll your hips against him though, the both of you moving, straining against each other, his wide hands around your waist shifting you up and down like a doll on his cock. Your eyes finally open again, and the sunlight spears in through the windows in buttery blinding shafts, sparkling dust motes dancing above as he fucks you. The sound is all so wet, everything from his lower belly to the open front of his jeans is soaked. “I don’t like it anymore,” you lie. 

“I don’t care,” and he gives you the first really rough thrust, not a pounding but with enough strength behind it that you get that heat cramp again, feel like you’re going to wet yourself again, there’s so much pressure in your belly. 

You’re going to come again. You are coming again. It feels like you should say thank you. 

He laughs, little cock sleeve, and you can’t understand how it’s so intense when the fucking is so slow—so good anyways—who cares about anything. His name slips through your lips without them moving, and he’s laughing again, a little mean and you tell him so, but still tender, still endeared by you. 

You push his face away weakly, a mumbled, “Nasty old man.”

Nuh uh, he hums, taking both of your wrists in his grip and pressing them back to the leather edge on either side of your head, forcing you into an arch so that he can latch his teeth at your throat and suck. The rolling of his hips pick up speed, just that little bit, the heat coming off him boiling up to steaming and his sweat drips onto your skin and disappears inside of you—everywhere you’ve got him inside of you. 

“Birth control?” All broken up with pants and your jugular between his teeth. 

Flexing fingers, hands going away to numbness, he’s got you held so tightly, not being so careful of his strength anymore, his cock drags and it’s so wet and sensitive and swollen inside of you, it feels like he barely fits even more than it did before, like there’s definitely no more space inside of you for him at all.. “Yeah—ye—ah, ahh,” can’t get your voice to come out right with your clit grinding against his pelvic bone like that. “Implant right here.” You turn your face towards your left arm, tipping your nose the hidden little bump right beneath your skin. He clicks his tongue, kissing it softly.

“Poor baby. That’s good. That’s real good, baby. Just be good and lemme come in you now. It’s okay.” He spreads his thighs wider, pushing up with his knees into you now. Oh fuck— “But you gotta give me one more. I want it—it’s mine.” And the way he’s got you arched, the spot he hits inside is more intense than the others. He grunts rougher now, biting your throat so hard you’ll be left bruised all over and on the inside too. One palm lets go of your wrist to grip your bottom, long fingers slotting on either side of his impaling cock, pulling you to him so tightly the orgasm is squeezed out of you forcibly and hurts all the worse for it. You’re limp and boneless now, and he starts to pump his come into you in thick spurts, belly all suffused with heat and your name a groan in his throat.

His fingers, parted around his splitting cock rub at the slippery skin of your labia, back and forth to your asshole, holding and cupping the place he’s claimed, and he comes so long, hunched over and rutting into you, filling and filling until the wet squelch is even louder and you can feel the thick come being forced out of your stuffed full cunt. 

You want to say his name, trying to move your lips, but your tongue rolls uselessly inside your mouth, all you are is a shivering cunt, a muscle spasming and spasming around him. He nuzzles at your throat, finally unlatching his teeth, licking away the hurt, pressing a soft kiss to the sore spot. You can feel him playing in the leaking wet now, fingering at your puffy cunt, well fucked and filled. 

You want to tell him you didn’t think that the bikini was going to make this happen, pull this out of him. 

At least not like this. You don’t think you could’ve ever imagined it’d be like this. 

His mouth, hot on your jaw once more before he finally picks up his head to look at you, and his eyes make you want to cry, all that manic heat is gone now, replaced by some softly smoldering ember. You don’t think anyone in all the world has eyes the color of hazel he’s got. Something that should belong to some fiercely guarded precious stone, they glow, amber opal like, burnished in the setting sun’s golden glow.

“You okay?” His voice is very soft, and only for you.

You nod, chin tipping to your sternum, face flushed with so much unbearably pleased heat you’re unable to find your own. 

Tilting his head to get at your mouth, he kisses you long and soft and open mouthed, licking your tongue, tasting you completely. And when he pulls back he has that same look you feel on your own face—that same unbearable pleasure. Shocked wonder sprinkled into it.

Look at what we’ve done and together and how good it is—

A smile and then a laugh from both of you, giggling like school children into each other’s mouths, and you’ve always thought he has some strange effect of appearing all man one second and then smiling and boyish for the flash of a single moment the next. And you don’t think you understand how someone who’s been through so much can still laugh the way he does. You smooth your finger over the arch of his eyebrow, thumbing at the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. Gorgeously strong man, and you suppose, looking at the wider picture, his life here, Ellie and the boys and a whole full life, you understand it, just a little bit—all the ranch’d given him. He has so much here—centered by the land as its heart. 

You’ve always wanted to be just like him anyway, and finally, voice found—the feel of his heartbeat inside of you—it’s like finding a dream, “I’m okay,” you tell him. 

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[bookyeom]

campfire - bsk

pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."

Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 

Yours. Right. It was your idea. 

You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.

The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 

Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 

"Did that hurt?" 

You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 

You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.

“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”

He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”

Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”

“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”

That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”

You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”

“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”

You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 

A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?

The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.

“I’ll help them.”

You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 

“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”

“Seungkwan…” 

He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.

Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 

“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 

Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”

You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”

Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”

You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”

“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”

Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”

“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 

You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”

His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 

Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“

“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 

Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”

“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 

You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.

“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”

Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”

Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.

“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 

“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

[number1jeonginstan]

Hiii!! I saw you take requests! I was wondering if could request something.

Really sweet sex with Chan x fem! Reader. You go out to a fancy party he needs to be seen at. He helps you into your dress and zips it up for you, he applies your mascara. Once they get back from the party, he just wants to show his love, you know? Really sweet sex with chan where he’s super gentle and sweet. I don’t have any preferences for that other than that at some point, he eats us out.

Also, can I be 🌻 anon?

-🌻

A/N: You gave me too much liberty with this fic. Something about Chan in a suit just makes me wanna go feral! I made it so he cough proposes cough because what’s cuter than that? Nothing! Anyway, I had so much fun writing this, it’s my longest fic to date and I’m so proud of it so I hope you like it and it does you justice! It just makes me so happy when people enjoy my writing!

WC: 3.5k (I genuinely asked myself what the fuck I was on when I saw that I wrote over 7 pages… this is the longest thing I’ve ever written)

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Non!Idol Bangchan x Gf(to a little more?)afab!reader

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, like I felt like my teeth were falling out while writing this because I tried making it hella cute! Unprotected sex (Is it really one of my stories if they don’t have an underlying breeding kink?) 

“Hey babe, can you please help me zip this up?” you ran into your and Chan’s shared bedroom wearing a black tight-fighting sparkly dress. You guys were attending the Grammy’s where Chan was being nominated for best producer and songwriter. He was dressed head to toe in Givenchy, wearing a full black look. “Fuck baby, you look amazing,” he said while coming behind you and zipping your dress. 

He kissed your shoulder, his face falling into the crook of your neck. “So do you,” you said, turning around to admire him. He had kept his hair natural, his curls framing his forehead. “I’m so proud of you!” 

You kissed his lips, your lipstick slightly rubbing onto his, making his lips look red. “I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved.” Chan had worked so hard to get to where he was in life and you would be stupid not to admit that. You know the time and effort he put into his work and you want him to see that what he has done has not been futile. 

You wanted to see him up on that stage, receiving the award that he has been working the last 7 years for. His close friends, Jisung and Changbin, were also going to be there, rooting him on. “We should get going, we don’t want to be late to you winning that award” you gave him a grin. 

“Babe, there are so many other more talented artists that are up for that award, I don’t think I’m going to win.” He groaned, following suit behind you, picking up your car keys from the counter. 

You stopped him mid-in his tracks. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you turned him around, forcing him to face you. “You are so talented and need to stop looking down at yourself” You fixed his tie, “You are going to win and then when we get home I’m gonna give you a reward.” You walked away from him quickly, hearing him jog to catch up to you. 

“And what would that reward be?” grabbing your waist as you were getting out of the door. “Now that is a surprise.” 

You both finally got into his car, you in the passenger seat while his right hand gripped your thigh, the other on the wheel. It was a comfortable silence, while you zoned out, looking out the window, he occasionally looked at you. He grinned to himself, what would he do without you. 

When you finally arrived at the show, you told him to walk the red carpet alone. “They don’t know who I am, but they need to know you, so please just go.” He wouldn’t budge, “I’m not going without you, I would rather turn around and go home. Jisung or Bin can represent me instead.” 

You groaned out loud, “Why, this is your moment, you should do this by yourself.” He stopped you mid-sentence. “This is our moment, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, so we are going together or not at all. “Fine, let’s go together superstar” you giggled into his ear, eliciting a laugh from him. 

You guys walked through the red carpet, cameras flashing all around you. You felt like you were going blind, but for Chan, it was second nature. Someone had called him over and he dragged you along with him. 

“So Chris, tell us what you are dressed in. If I may say, you look quite dapper.” The reporter stated, causing Chan to laugh a bit. “My girlfriend and I” he wrapped his hand around your hip, pulling you closer to him “are both wearing Givenchy.”  

“Wow, can I say, you both look beautiful, but now on to the serious question. How does it feel to be nominated for a Grammy? 

“I feel great, I’m so thankful to all my fans for putting me in the position where I can make music that they enjoy. I am also thankful for my family, friends, and most of all my girlfriend for always being there for me, giving me constant support, and dealing with my constant all-nighters” he poked your cheek, “to help me get to where I am and do what I love.” 

“Wow, well thank you so much for your time, I wish you the best of luck and I hope the two of you have an amazing night!” 

You both waved the reporter goodbye, wishing her a good rest of her night. You both walked around a bit, meeting big names and saying hi. Looking around Chris could feel the effort he’s been putting in for the past few years. 

The all-nighters, the never coming home, the days where he forgot dates with you or anniversaries. You stood beside him through all of it, you were the one that was constantly supporting him, and that’s why he wanted to surprise you when you got home tonight.

The ring he had bought to propose to you was burning a hole through his pocket. He prayed that you didn’t know, that it could be a surprise for when the two of you got home. He even got Changbin and Jisung in on it, convincing them to let him go home with you after in exchange for tickets to the after-party. 

“Wow, it is beautiful in here,” you said, looking at the room in awe. Then you pointed out the stage, “look that’s where you are going to get your award” you giggled, kissing his cheek. 

“How many times have we talked about this, I don’t know if I’m going to win or not” he groaned into your ear, the both of you walking to your designated seats, sitting down. “How many times have I told you not to think negatively? I believe you are going to win, so that’s good enough for me.” 

He sighed next to you, you had no idea how lucky he was to find you. He would have been lost without you, aimlessly swimming in the sea, if it wasn’t for you, his rock. When the two of you first started dating, you always told him to achieve his dreams. 

It was five months into your relationship, and you both were supposed to go on a date, but he was so wrapped up in work that he forgot about it. He also forgot basic necessities, like eating and sleeping, he was just too enamored with his work. You had ended up calling him and asking him where he was. He profusely apologized telling you that he had lost all track of time, that he would be right there, but you just told him to not worry about it. 

What he didn't expect was that you were going to bring him a basket of food he liked to his studio. “I told you not to worry about it!” you giggled, bringing his favorite dish. “I know how hard you work, so please don’t worry about it. It’s okay if you forget sometimes, I don’t want to get in the way of you and your passion, as long as you make some time for me!” 

That was the moment he knew he was in love with you. From then on, he tried to put a little less focus into his music, and some into you. He loved that after work, you would come to the studio with him, listen to his demos, and give input. His last relationship was nothing like this. He was constantly busy and the girl ended up cheating on him, making it hard for him to trust others again, but when it came to you, everything came naturally. 

It wasn’t just him that loved you, it was the artist he worked with. Jisung and Changbin also loved you, constantly asking to hang around with you. You were perfect for him, and he never wanted to let you go. 

“Are you excited, your category is next!” He had lost all track of time, just thinking about you. He just smiled, he wanted to win, but he also knew that if he didn’t he still had you. You would never amount his success to the numbers or awards he won, but the effort he put into his work. He just looked at you with his signature smile. “Yeah, I hope I win.” 

That was the first time he ever said anything like that and you beamed a smile at him. “I know you will” you whispered into his ear. As the commercial break was going on before the next award was presented, he took a sip of your champagne, trying to cool down his own nerves. You looked at him in shock, Chan barely ever drank. “Something to help with the nerves,” he told you and you just nodded. 

The infomercials had finally ended and they were about to announce the winner of the best producer of the year. You took Chan’s hand in yours in anticipation, “And the winner is… drum roll please” Your grip around his hand tightened “Christopher Bahng!” 

His face was one of shock, he was bewildered seeing the camera on him. You just smiled at him, clapping. He quickly got up and walked to the stage. The hostess passed him a mic while he stood with the Grammy in his hand. 

“Ummm, wow I was not expecting this at all” the room laughed, “I want to keep this short and sweet, but I don’t think I can. I truly appreciate everyone who has been with me since the beginning, it warms my heart knowing that so many people enjoy the music I make and I am appreciative to my close friends Changbin and Han who helped me make my music” 

You heard them shout behind you, while people stared in their direction. “I want to thank my family and especially my girlfriend especially because without them I don’t think I would have made it this far. I am entirely grateful for all the support, and please look out for new music. Thank you once again!” 

Everyone cheered as he got off the stage and you ran up to him, giving him a bear hug. “I told you, I know everything, I knew you would win.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed your lips. “Thank you, for everything, truly, I love you so much,” he said, kissing your lips again. “I love you too.”

After the show was over, you were prepared to go to the after-party, but as you got into the car, you saw the map showing your address. “Channie, don’t you want to go celebrate?” you asked, a bit puzzled. “I do, and I want to celebrate with you, in the comfort of our home.” 

You just sighed, confused by his decision, but happy that he was going to get some rest at home. The drive back was just as silent, you falling asleep, face pressed to the window. You were tired from the entire day and were glad to get some rest, Chan was also glad because he knew the night you both had in store.

When you both got home, you were about to open your side when Chris stopped you. “Nuh uh” he said, wiggling his finger causing a giggle from your lips. He walked around, opening your side of the car. “Wow, I really am a passenger princess aren’t I?” 

“You don’t even know the most of it.” 

Before your feet could even touch the ground, he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the door. As you got inside, he told you to enter, he had to get something from the car. You just nodded, taking off your shoes at the front entrance, and turning on the light to your apartment. 

You saw an entire row of pedals on the floor, covering every inch. You walked in still confused, seeing your living room covered with pictures of you and Chan, memories from your dates, even the napkin from your first date when you accidentally dropped coffee on his lap, profusely apologizing. “Channie, what’s going on?” 

You turned around to see him on one knee in front of you. “I didn’t expect to be giving two speeches today, but this one is more important than the one I gave earlier in the night. You have been here through thick and thin, you stayed up just to see me and give me a kiss some nights. You sat with me when I got the flu, you make me feel like I’m the only man in the world. That day when you brought food to my studio, I knew I was in love with you. You are the only person in this universe for me. Will you please make me the happiest man on this planet, and marry me?” 

You began to sob in front of him, “Is that a yes or a no? Because I had to bribe Felix to do this for me, and that was hard, I had to buy him a brand new CPU and GPU.” Before he continued to ramble on, you grabbed him, brought him back to his feet, and kissed him. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.” 

He grinned into your kiss, placing the ring on your finger. “Christopher Chan Bhang, this is way too big, how much did this cost?” You looked at the ring placed on your finger, it was huge. “Not much for a Grammy award winner like me” he giggled, picking you up and spinning around. “Now please, let me show you how much you mean to me.” 

You simply nodded, allowing him to take you to your shared bedroom. “Though I think you look absolutely stunning in this dress, let me take it off you?” You simply nodded, allowing him to undo the zipper, slowly pulling the dress off you. You covered your tits with your arms, the dress having padding, making it so you didn’t have to wear a bra. You were just in your panties. 

“Fuck baby, you always look so beautiful,” he said, causing you to look at him shyly. No matter how many times you both have slept together, you always felt like it was the first time. He was so attentive, loving every inch of your body like you were heaven on earth. He placed a kiss to your lips, laying you on the bed. 

You tried to undo his pants as he took off his tux jacket, but he stopped you. “Tonight is about you princess okay? Be a good girl and let me take care of you.” You just nodded, wanting to speak up, but not wanting to stop him. 

“Fuck princess, you look so good. Always look so good for me, look at you.” He dragged his hands against your thighs, kissing you as he brought a hand to your nipple, playing with it. You moaned as he began to rub against it. “Fuck, always so vocal for me.” 

He placed another kiss on your lips before he went down, slowly opening your thighs with his hands. “Just want to taste you, baby”

He began to kiss your thighs, making you squirm underneath him. His kisses were wet and hot, but they felt amazing. He slowly worked himself to the place you needed him most. He placed a kiss on your covered cunt, taking his hand and hooking it to your underwear, slowly bringing it down your legs. 

You could feel the cool air on your pussy, causing you to moan. Before you could even react fully, he licked a strip on your folds, making you moan. “Fuck baby, you just keep tasting better and better, can’t get enough of your delicious cunt.” 

He began to dive into your pussy like a man starved, placing a finger on your clit while he worked in and out of your hole. You moaned and brought your hand to his hair. “Want you to sit on my face, can you do that baby?” You nodded, you had never done it before scared that you were somehow going to hurt him, but he looked at you with his pleading eyes. 

You couldn’t say no to him, it looked like he wanted to do it more than you. You got up, allowing him to lay down underneath you. He rid himself of his clothes first, the only piece of clothing on his body being his boxers. You placed your hands on the headboard as he lay underneath you, grabbing your things with his hands. 

“I have a pretty big nose you know, and it’s perfect for this.” Before you could even giggle at what he said, he began to eat your cunt out. His nose was rubbing against your clit, causing you to moan out his name.

“Fuck, so good Channie, so good, you feel so good.” He moaned in response, the vibrations being sent through your hole and to your core. His tongue was hitting that spot inside of you, making you feel wonders. You didn’t think you could stay up any longer. “Feels good baby?” He spoke into you, causing you to moan even louder. “So good, can’t control myself”

“It’s okay baby, get off on my face, cum all over it baby please.” You moaned, he took one of his fingers, adding extra stimulation to your clit, causing you to cum all over his face. He kept going, over-stimulating you. “Fuck baby, you taste so good, can’t wait to taste you for the rest of our lives. 

“Please Channie, need you, need your cock inside of me.” That was all Chan needed to flip you around. You were underneath him and you could still see your cum dripping off his face. He kissed you, his tongue entering your mouth, allowing you to taste your arousal on him. “Baby, I’m so excited for you to take my cock.” 

He took off his boxers, and let his dick slap his stomach. Chan’s size never seemed to surprise you, he was so big, but it was perfect. His cock was perfect for you, always hitting the specific spots inside you. “Give me a second baby, let me go get a condom” 

You stopped him, “Want it in me raw this time” You looked at him with your doe eyes. If looks could kill, Chan would be dead right now. He felt like he ascended to heaven right there and then. “Fuck baby, gonna fuck you so well then. You weren’t joking when you said you had a surprise for me.”  

He slowly entered his cock inside you, making the both of you moan at the same time. “Fuck princess, this pussy takes me so well, I’m so glad that this is going to be mine forever.” 

His cock was finally fully in you, he slowly began to fuck into you, already hitting that spongey part inside of you causing you to moan his name. “Fuck, so good Channie, you feel so good.” 

He kissed your lips again, you both weren’t fucking, you were making love. He started thrusting inside you faster as you wrapped your legs around him. It was your signal to him that you wanted more, that you wanted to be drilled into the bed, and that’s exactly what he did. 

You were both moaning, your pussy clenching around him and his cock throbbing inside of you. You both were close, your moans becoming more and more as his grunts became louder. “Want to cum with you okay princess” you just nodded, “want you to cum in me Chris”

That was exactly what you both needed to cum over the edge. His cock came inside of you, your walls covered in his cum as your walls milked him dry. The both of you lay like this for what felt like hours until he spoke up. “Let me clean you up”

You allowed him to, he picked you up after he drew a bath for the both of you. 

“What was that surprise you wanted to give me?” he asked as you guys finally got back into bed. “You will find out in the morning,” you said kissing his lips before the both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

You woke up to hear screaming outside your room. “There is a puppy at our door!” you heard him shout from your shared bedroom. He ran into the room. “This was the surprise?” he grinned, his smile spread from ear to ear. “We have to start our family some way?” you said. He stared at the dog in awe, petting behind his ears. 

“What should I name you, huh?” he said in a baby voice. “I’m thinking wolfie, he kind of looks like a wolf, and you. That’s why I got him.” 

He came over, pecking kisses all over your face. “I love you y/n” 

“I love you too Chris” 

taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify @brooklynie

[luna-loveboop]

XD Ok so imagine if Sky's smart mouth made him want to roast the heck out of Demise before he could even lay the curse

Like what if Sky, who even managed to roast Impa, has just nearly killed Demise and this goes down:

Demise: >:) So about the world's fate-

Sky: Did you know that your monstrous sealed form (a boss called The Imprisoned) looks like an avocado?

Demise: ?!?!

Sky: With teeth.

Sky: And I wielded the triforce and utterly destroyed you so you faded to dust- and the only reason you're alive (for the next few moments anyway lol) is your sword spirit Ghirahim went back in time? Huh? Did you?

Sky, laughing now: I mean what kind of God is outdone by his weapon and a student ami'right

Demise: *inhales*

Sky: Did you know that to fight you while imprisoned I popped your toes one by one through your pathetic little shockwaves you sent? Did you know that you were so weak that they popped like balloons?

Sky, cracking up: Did you know that your most helpful move when I was fighting you was to slither up the hill like an undignified walnut after I popped all your toes and you couldn't waddle anymore?

*Demise points at Sky and Sky points right back*

Sky: I landed on your head out of a catapult- your sealed form's flying technique was pathetic!

Demise: On you I lay this curse

Sky, yelling: Did you know that your monstrous form is almost as dumb and stupid looking as you are!!!!

Sky: And by the way. Nice hair

Demise: *screams in rage and fades away without the chance to lay the curse*

Like imagine you're a God who wants to lay a curse to doom the world but your opponent is a teenager with sass issues

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16

Part 1 Part 15

Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.

Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.

Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.

“He must be at work,” Eddie says.

Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.

“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”

Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”

Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”

Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”

Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.

“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.

Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”

He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.

“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”

Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.

Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”

The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.

But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.

“We could play D&D?” Will asks.

Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.

“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”

They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.

“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.

“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.

Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.

“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.

Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.

“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”

“Sir Steven.”

“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.

“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”

Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.

Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.

When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.

Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.

Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.

They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.

It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.

Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.

“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”

The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.

Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.

Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.

The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.

“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.

With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—

But.

“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”

Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.

Part 17

[zaimta]

彡A VS. B

paring: laxus dreyar x reader

zai says: the ova was so funny but the fan service was certainly something, anyways laxus fic bc it's all i can write for the 10 other fairy tail stans on here this is for you

suggestive!! i’m pushing 18 let me live

it was the aftermath of the grand magic games, fairy tail won like they said they would but the little wager they made didn’t get forgotten. since the two split teams were forced to join as one, neither team could uphold the agreement. so as a tiebreaker makarov decided on an old-fashioned rock-paper-scissors to determine the victor.

erza stepped up to face laxus in the match “you got this erza! wipe the floor with em!” you cheered on your friend along with the rest of team ‘a’. erza nodded and raised her hand, laxus took up the same motion, when erza dropped her hand she had scissors while laxus had rock.

your jaw dropped and you felt your eye twitch “you got to be kidding me.” a chorus of groans and complaints came from the ‘a’ team, it was going to be a long day for all of you.

the ‘b’ team wasted no time, as soon as they won they got straight to business. laxus pulled out a map and presented it to the ‘a’ team “go to this forest to get a magic stone.”

“magic stone?” wendy asked curiously

“the forest is called ‘las puertas del infierno’.”

you blinked at him “let me get this straight you want us to go to some forest that is literally called the doors of hell, for a rock…yeah i’m not going.”

he laughed and smirked at you “that’s cute but you don’t have a choice here babe, you have till noon.”

“please i barely wanna look for some stupid rock so why would i-” mid-sentence you let yourself think, you caught the smirk he sent your way so he was sending you along with the exploration team on purpose. he knew you, and searching through a swamp for a rock was the last thing you wanted to do.

“you sick son of a bitch you are good.” you glared at him, he knew you well and you hated it, he had just what he needed to get the upper hand in the punishment game.

you slowly trudged through the swamp, disgusted by all its inhabitants and the murky water you were walking in “guys i wanna go home.”

gray looked at you from the corners of his eyes with a sigh “you’ve been saying that for the past ten minutes y/n.”

you sucked your teeth at him and rolled your eyes “that doesn’t make it any less true. let’s just find that stupid rock go we could get out of here, i mean lucy over here covered head to toe in leeches.”

“what?!” she shrieked while running around in circles “get them off me! get them off!”

“i would put im not touching those” you pointed to the leeches on her thighs “besides i just got my nails done these weren’t cheap you know.”

nastu fired a flame attack to help lucy with the leeches, while peeling off the remaining creatures he spoke to you over his shoulder “when did you find time to get those we just, got back from the grand magic games, and how did you pay for them last time i checked you’re dirt broke like the rest of us.”

lucy slapped his head “speak for yourself!” lucy had rent to pay so she could be anything she wanted but dirt broke, she's been taking jobs back to back just to pay her rent.

you shrugged "you have your strengths and i have mine, and i happen to have a bottomless wallet on my side."

happy snickered behind his paws “yeah a bottomless wallet who’s in loveee”

you whipped your neck around and yelled at happy “can it cat!” unfortunately for you he continued giggling floating off to be by natsu.

after walking through the swamp for what felt like hours, when it reality it was a long hour and thirty minutes you finally found the stone. thanks to gray and his unfortunate set of circumstances.

when you finally returned to the guild and returned the stone just for it to be used for a makeshift jacuzzi, you and lucy shared a single glance that spoke volumes.

your eyes took in laxus' chiseled body going lower and lower until your eyes rested on his happy trail, you were no stranger to this sight but it still did the job for you every time, too busy admiring his body you didn’t notice him looking at you with a lazy grin on his face “my eyes are up here y/n.”

his voice snapped you out of your daze “hm? oh yeah sure whatever.” you looked away from him ignoring the snickers coming from the remainder of the b team.

it came time for the b team to pick members from the a team. cana took wendy, mira took erza, gajeel took lucy, and unsurprisingly juvia took gray. you, elfman and natsu unfortunately got stuck with laxus.

you were stuck tending to laxus and the thunder legion by the jacuzzi while he sent natsu and elfman on a while goose chase for milk and bread, you rose a brow as they ran out of the guild for the items.

“y/n.” he smirked at you as he spoke, he pointed to his shoulder with his thumb “i want you to give me a massage if you don’t mind.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes ‘if you don’t mind’ he says, like you had a choice in the first place.

you flashed him a fake smile “gee i would have too but i don’t have a swimsuit! what if i fell in? we wouldn’t want that now would we?” you knew there was no proper way to get out of this, but even if you could stall a little you would be fine.

“i could get you a swimsuit y/n.” evergreen chipped in with a smile

you immediately turned around to face her “say what now?”

laxus smirked at you and nodded towards the guild doors "evergreen go take y/n to get a swimsuit." you couldn't protest even if you wanted to, and you were a little irritated that you didn't think your plan through. after picking swimsuits with evergreen, which you think she enjoyed more than you did, you walked back to the jacuzzi where they were all waiting for you.

laxus gave a low whistle shamelessly letting his eyes hungrily roam over your body and then pointed to his shoulders "where were we?" sometimes you couldn't deny how much you hated him.

bickslow smiled and pointed to his own shoulders “i’d like a massage too.”

you scowled at him which only caused his grin to become wider “freed is literally sitting right there make him do it. you’re all dead once this day ends.”

as you massaged his bare shoulders, you noticed the marks on his back that you left from your last night together, rolled your eyes at how he showed them off and traced a finger on the red scratches letting your nail gently glide across his back.

he pointed to his shoulder with a smirk on his face “my shoulders are up here y/n. are you feeling okay you’re out of it today?” he chuckled as he felt you glaring him down, as you massaged his shoulders you occasionally moved your hands to the base of his neck, longing to put your hands around his neck and clutch.

evergreen nudged the boys knowing it was their cue to leave, evergreen sent you a wink over her shoulder as she left with bickslow and freed "try to act civil you two we're in the guild after all."

within seconds laxus pulled you onto his lap clearly ignoring evergreen's words of wisdom. he rested his hands on your waist to support you, and he smiled up at you with a gleam in his eyes. his hands roamed your body as they moved down to your hips, he pulled you closer to him your body was flush against his and he whispered in your ear “that was a dirty move you pulled using your nails like that.” his voice sent shivers down your spine, the way he whispered those words just for you to hear despite the empty room, if there was one thing he knew how to do it was how to leave an effect on you.

you fiddled with the hair on the nape of his neck knowing how it affects him “it was just a harmless massage, you were the one who told me to give you one after all.” you gently dragged your nails from his neck into his hair, grazing your nails into his scalp, grinning when he hummed at your touch.

“you play a dangerous game y/n. we’ve got a couple more hours till the day ends let’s make it count.”

[henneseyhoe]

“Tell daddy you sorry”(request)

Stunna x BLACK!THICK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: toxic!stunna, daddy kink, rough sex, name calling, breeding kink(eh?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

SUMMARY:you fucked somebody else. Stunna ain’t too happy bout it.

Ps. This was (kinda) inspired by we cry together by Kendrick Lamar. I listen to that shit unironically and the ending of the song had me gasping when I first heard it so I had to make a lil drabble lmfao. Also I owed y’all a lil sumn before putting out these other requests and series.

✮✮✮✮

“Now tell daddy you sorry”

“Tell daddy you sorry for givin’ his pussy away” he repeated, his hips colliding into her with force as she whined pathetically, her hands pushing at his hips to keep him from going so deep. She felt defeated in this moment. Weak that not only did she let this nigga back into her house, but she let him back into HER.

Her soft eyes stared up at him, her mouth gaped open with a stupid look on her face, the golden chain he wore around his neck dangling above her, putting the girl in a trance like state with the help of his mad thrusts. One kiss to her lips and she was snapped out of it.

“Fuuuck! I hate you!”

“You do? This pussy looove me, though. Look how wet she is, baby” he says, delivering slow, deep strokes that had her mumbling incoherent words. She couldn’t even lie and say she wasn’t loving every bit of this shit. If she did, her hormones would have made it obvious that she was boldly lying through her teeth, and one thing about Stunna was that he hated a liar, especially a bad one.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her back arched to the sky, the man getting satisfaction out of watching her try to break free from the death grip he had on her thighs. He was surely gonna leave a mark.

“now say sorry”

the logical thing for her to do was comply and do what he told her to do instead of being a brat and refusing again, and she would have said no anyway if her ass wasn’t already sore from the 10 strikings his hand gave her earlier.

“I- I’m so sorry, daddy!”

“You is?”

“Yesss!”

“This pussy mine?”

“Yes! yes! yes!” She chanted, her toes curling.

Stunna smirked. “Obviously he ain’t do a good job if you came back. You love me?”

“Yessss! Give it to me!” She cried, her nails scratching down his back as she took every single inch he gave to her. He spoke no words, just continued to do his damage, aiming for her sweet spot the entire time. The way he was fucking her, you could have sworn he hated her a little, shit, he might after tonight.

Her thighs felt like she had ran a mile, her body not getting time to calm down before another orgasm was upon her. In bliss, she was unaware of the turmoil she had set herself in just by fucking this man once again. And she’d do it again after this too.

“Shit!” He shouted, his jaw clenched as he gripped her thick thighs, bending them back to her chest. If she knew getting fucked this hard would take playing in his face, she would have been broken up with him and using somebodies son as a sex toy.

“Fuuuuck! Fuck me nigga!” she screamed before her voice became hushed, the man responding in harsh slaps to her ass.

“Imma fuck you bitch”

“Fuck meee!”

“Imma fuck you bitch”

They went back and forth till the woman’s legs began to shake violently, her pussy practically choking his dick, just how he wanted it.

“I don’t wanna see you with nobody else unless it’s the baby I put in you”

✮✮✮✮

@chxrryp0p

[pacifymebby]

Angels // Bonnie Gold

Fluff that gets carried away and becomes NSFW by the end / you look after Bonnie after a fight. Vaguely based on the song Angels by the XX

"Y'know little dove I don't think this is what Tommy had in mind when he told you to draw me a bath..." Smirked Bonnie where he stood in the middle of the cool stone floor, watching you through the gathering steam. The deep green tiles on the wall glistened with condensation, your shoulders glistened too, little beads of water scintillating under the low light of the candles you'd lit and placed carefully all around the room.

"If it's not then he very naive..." you replied, your smirk just as soft, as mischievous as his.

If Bonnie had been asked to describe you in that moment, he would have said angelic. In just your faded coral slip, silky and drifting as if caught in a gentle current just above your knees, you looked as though you'd drifted down to him from heaven itself. And Bonnie had taken enough blows to the head that afternoon to believe in those kinds of miracles.

It had been a long fight and in order to try and rake in the most money from takings Tommy had asked Bonnie to prolong the fight until the 10th round. He'd taken more hits than he was used to and you'd been a little shocked to see him up close in the dressing room. When he'd been declared champion in the ring you had of course been able to see the blood smeared over his face, but to see the damage up close had left you shaking. You were certain that your brothers already knew about you and Bonnie's secret affections anyway but if they hadn't, then the way you'd rushed to hold his face so delicately in your hands, the way you'd insisted on cleaning him up yourself - and the way you'd done so with the gentleness of a saint - had to have given you away.

It had to have been obvious how in love with him you were. So you were right in what you'd said to Bonnie.

If Tommy hadn't known exactly what you would do the moment you were left alone with the young fighter, then he was stupid. Simple as that.

Still, whether you were right or wrong that didn't stop Bonnie being a little nervous at the thought of what Tommy would do to him if he ever caught the two of you together.

As you stepped up to him to begin undoing the buttons of his thin linen undershirt which was still stained with blood from the big fight, he found himself grow a little shy. For a second when you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, the picture of innocence as your fingers stepped nimbly, button to button down his chest, he didn't know where to look.

He tried to clear his throat, eyes wandering to study the ceiling but only for a second, unable to resist you for even a moment.

"Somehow I don't think your big brother wants you helping a 'savage' undress dove..." he said cracking a crooked little grin, the whites of his teeth showing as his dimple etched into his cheek. He was laughing at the remark which had been thrown around by more than one man in Charlie's Yard when the Golds had first arrived in small health, but you knew that somewhere beneath his stubborn, self assured surface, Bonnie harboured some doubts about himself when it came to you, the Shelby 'fuckin' princess.

Still, you weren't one to let your lad linger on thoughts like that and so as you slipped one hand beneath the linen of his shirt and smoothed it gently over his bruised chest searching for his heartbeat, you stood on tip toes and cupped his cheek with your other.

"My big brother told me to look after you Mr Gold," you said, your voice a troublemaking whisper as your eyes glowed and locked with his, " so thats just what I'll do and if he don't like it..." you said pausing momentarily when your eyes flickered over his tired cheek bones, your irises reflected in his, caught out for a moment by his rugged brusiy beauty.

"What?" He chuckled, his hand resting on yours as you remained holding his cheek, studying him with the faint flicker of awe in your pupils, "if he don't like it what?"

You closed your eyes and rushed to press your lips firm and lingering against his, catching him by surprise so that he almost stumbled back, his hand catching your shoulder to steady you both as you kissed his lips once and then twice, hesitating as you pulled away only to come straight back for another.

For a second he was so stunned all he could do was stand there gazing back at you, shocked by you moment of smothering affection. But his smile lingered and as he looked at you he found it increasingly difficult to let you finish your sentence.

"If he don't like it," you smirked stroking Bonnie's cheek with your thumb, "well one day this 'savage' is gonna be king of the whole wide fuckin world ain't he... So Tommy'll just have to get used to it." You said with such cheeky defiance, such determined confidence that Bonnie couldn't help but laugh at you and shake his head, grinning as he let his shirt fall from his shoulders and land in a heap at his feet.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and thick with amusement, "you've convinced me little dove but..."

"What?" You asked quietly as he reached out to you, fingers grazing your delicate shoulder, knocking the strap of your dress down so that it fell and revealed your soft skin. Your neck soft with an ethereal sheen left by the steam which had caressed and settled over you like a warm breath. The little heart shaped meeting of your collar bones above your chest, the freckles which scattered your body in all the places the sun had once reached out to touch you.

He was mesmerized by you at the best of times but now... Now when he was so tired, when his body ached from the fight, every muscle craving a little tenderness, now when he'd been waiting to get you alone all day... Now he was utterly convinced that you were a gift sent from god just for him.

"But..." he teased, leaning down to kiss you, letting his lips graze yours as he spoke with that unforgivable smirk, "when he finds out and you wind up in all sorts of trouble," he chuckled, "this savage ain't gonna stick around to save you sweetheart..." he said rolling his eyes when you giggled and shrugged him off, shrugging out of your slip and letting it fall as you dismissed his threat carelessly.

"You don't mean that..." you smiled up at him sweetly, biting back the most angelic of grins when he raised his brow and asked you just what made you so sure of that.

"You're always here to save me..." you said, eyes locking with his, a brief flicker of sincerity that left a small but proud smile on his lips. Your hands resting on his bare chest, your eyes flickering over the damage left by his opponent, a frown etching only to disappear just as quickly when you looked up at him and met him with mischief in your voice, "even when I really deserve it..."

He chuckled and shook his head, caught your shoulder just as you turned to step away so that he could pull you back to him. Bow his head to leave a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon," you murmured, tilting your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as you let him trail his fingertips down your neck, the steam misting between you like a veil to be brushed aside too.

You stepped into the water first, your fingers grazing Bonnie's palm as he held his hand out to steady you. Tender with you even now when it was supposed to be the other way round.

But you knew your Bonnie in and out and you knew that this was the only way he'd let you take care of him. If you let him pretend it was you who needed to be treated tenderly that evening.

The water was hot and for a moment after stepping in you felt that good sting spread from your ankles to your thighs. Bonnie watched as you lowered yourself beneath the water, watched your naked form dip beneath the surface, concealed from him by the dancing candlelight on the surface. He watched the water lap at your chest as you lowered yourself beneath the hot water to your neck, watched as your skin blushed a tempting shade of pink... And when you opened your legs slowly, your eyes flickering to meet his, your hand closing around his and tugging him closer to the tub well... he wasn't about to try and resist you.

You watched as he used one foot to push down the leg of his trousers, bit back a grin when he had to kick his foot a little to send his boxers on their way, but your smile changed when he returned his focus to you. When his eyes locked with yours, warm and dark and flickering with a tender kind of lust. One which was growing more familiar the longer you spent in the fighters company.

"Hurry up," you said with a childish kind of smile, "you'll get cold..."

"Not likely," he chuckled making some passing comment about you Shelby's and your luxuries. He was often teasing you for the spoils your family enjoyed, the wealth which seemed to leak unignorably from every corner of your lives. How you never showed to one of his fights in anything less than your finery. He was always making little jokes about how people would start rumours you were out of his league, but you were more stubborn than anyone when it came to that... That Bonnie would be champion of the whole world one day, that if anything it was the other way around.

"Bon please..." you stuck your bottom lip out, pouting up at him in the hopes he might stop stalling, stop giving you those hungry eyes and just slip into the water with you. "I'm trying to be a good girl here and you won't let me..." you carried on feigning a sulk, gasping exasperated and splashing water at him when he raised his brow.

"you? Good?" He smirked grinning and flicking his fingers through the water to splash you back, enjoying the little shriek and the way you flinched and squirmed away.

You whined as you brushed soapy water from your eyes holding your hand out to catch his again. Relieved when this time he gave in and joined you. His sigh of relief harmonised with yours as he lowered himself into the tub and came to rest between your legs. He couldn't keep the little smile off his lips when you sat up and wrapped your arms around him pressing your chest against his back, guiding him down into your embrace as you nuzzled into his neck and scattered tender little kisses like freckles over his skin. You kissed his shoulder and let your lips linger, smiling softly to yourself as you held him, so precious, in your arms.

He was much broader than you but with your arms and your thighs locked around his body you held him just as securely as he could ever hold you. And with your cheek resting against his shoulder he felt so at home. The ache of the fight seemed to melt away from him beneath your delicate touch and as you trailed your hands up over his biceps and leant back into the tub you brought him down with you until the two of you were lying down neck deep in the water, held by the heat and the steam.

You dragged your teeth gently over his neck as you kissed him again, tickling him affectionately as he tilted his head back against your shoulder. You watched as he smiled, his eyes closed, a satisfied little hum leaving his lips as he chuckled at your persistent playful advances.

"You seem happier now," he teased referring to the apparent panic which had gripped you when you'd first seen him in the changing rooms.

For a second you'd been terrified, a dagger through your heart at the sight of your love in such a sorry looking state.

"Don't think I like watching you fight as much as everyone else does..." you admitted with a shy smile, glad he wasn't looking at you to see the way you blushed. You felt silly admitting it but it was true. From afar it was easy to watch him, when you couldn't see the damage being done. When you could see the state he was leaving the other lad in. When he was grinning bright eyed despite the blood in his mouth, one fist held in the air. Champion again.

But when you had his wounded jaw held in your palm. When you could feel the heat and the swelling left after the show, when you could see how tired he really was after the fuss had all died down. Well, it scared you a little.

"That's because you worry too much." He chuckled turning his head so that he was nuzzled into your neck, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw as your fingers idled in his damp curls. "Does that mean I'm gonna have to fare without my good luck charm next time?" He asked looking up at you through his long black lashes.

"No," you said, your soft smile mirroring his, "I'll be at every single one of your fights, wouldn't want those girls from the front row getting any ideas..."

"Oh really? Were there girls in the front row?" He grinned trying to tease you with his clearly-for-show-feigned disinterest.

"Oh give over," you giggled trailing off as you spider walked your fingers down over his shoulder, letting your hand rest flat over his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart. "Actually," you said with a softer more self aware smirk, "I just couldn't let anyone else patch you up after... I wanna be able see for myself that you're okay you know? An I don't trust anyone else to know..."

Bonnie looked down at your hand on his chest, grateful that the dim light and the steam concealed the true cause of his blushing cheeks. He watched your hand resting on his heart and relaxed into your embrace. With your legs wrapped around him he felt so secure, so cared for. And everything you'd just said to him, he'd been secretly hoping to hear.

"So let me get this straight," he said, his teasing smirk hard to hide or hold back, "you y/n Shelby, think you know better than a trained doctor?"

"When it comes to you, yeah..." you bit your lip, feeling a little more shy when he held your hand and took it from his chest. Held it up to his lips instead, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips to your palm and let it linger.

"You fuckin Shelby's," he muttered shaking his head disapprovingly, "you're all the fuckin same..."

"Oh well," you giggled letting your other hand trail down his chest beneath the water, letting your fingers graze his inner thigh temptingly, "if we're all the fuckin same maybe you'd like to swap me out for one of my brothers..." you said with a cheeky smile, your hand squeezing his thigh, trying to tease him.

"No dove," he grinned, his voice catching in his throat as he felt your fingers wandering below the water, felt your knuckles gentle caress lightly up his semi hard length. "I promise you I would not."

His voice was lower then, a little tight sounding as your fingers curled around his length and began to massage him gently.

He was quiet then, his breath and your breath, the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the tub, the only sounds as he relaxed under your touch.

As you moved your hand slowly beneath the water you left a scattering of lethargic open mouthed kisses over his shoulder and up along his neck, trailing slowly up to his jaw. He couldn't hold back the soft groan of pleasure which left him as you settled into a gentle rhythm, your thighs squeezing a little tighter around his waist.

As you worked at relaxing Bonnie you felt your own body growing more sensitive too. Your nipples hard, rubbing his back, a heat between your open legs that only the current of the water moving between you could satisfy. And really all that tickling current served to do was drive your longing.

"You really are a good girl aren't you little dove," he hummed as he pushed himself up a little so that he could reach to catch the corner of your mouth in a kiss.

And when you felt his lips brush yours you couldn't help but give in to him and let him take what he wanted from you. With one hand reached up behind you he held the back of your head and guided your lips down to meet his, opening your mouth with the flick of his tongue. You let him in, let his tongue brush over yours as he hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sending a little spark straight to your tummy. Sparking your own desire to a torturous level as you carried on pleasuring him beneath the water.

"Don't get used to it..." you tried to tease pulling away from his kiss only able to escape his pull for a moment before he cut you off and pulled you back in. His lips locked with yours hungrily as he slipped his tongue back into your mouth. His fingers tangled in your hair, his strength meaning he could force your head down closer to him with ease.

He kissed you harder, biting your lip and tugging to draw you in even closer, your moan melting with his when you tightened your gentle grip around his shaft to apply just enough pressure as your slipped your palm over his head and rolled your thumb over his tip.

You felt him grow even harder against your palm and bit back a satisfied little smile enjoying the knowledge that you were turning him on. Enjoying the thought that any minute now he'd lose the will to resist you and have you pulled up into his lap in seconds.

That was your favourite thing to do. Tease him until the switch flipped in his head and he simply picked you up, manouvered you however he want you, took you however he needed to.

He was so much stronger than you and the reminder of that fact in those moments of passion left you dizzied by your desire for him.

And this time it was just the same.

The needy grunt which escaped him as you teased his balls with your palm. The way he stiffened for a second, paused to think about it before he settled on his next move.

The way once he'd decided he moved so quickly, not caring for the mess of water he sent spilling over the sides of the tub when he swapped your places in the bath and pulled you up onto his lap.

Suddenly you were completely exposed. Suddenly it was you blushing, balanced perfectly before him, water rushing down your body, rivulets trickling over your breasts. Steam rising from your skin. The flicker of light from the wavering candles. The shadows which danced over you as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a soft sigh. You were heavensent. As he leant back in the tub, his hands caressed the curves of your body, watching you shiver and blush with his every delicate tough, he was certain of it. You were an angel sent down to earth just for him. He was the luckiest man alive.

"Fuck.." you breathed, a self conscious shake in your voice as you smiled and felt his cock stroke the sensitive spot inside you. Teasing you as he moved slowly and then not at all.

For a minute he was still, and his hands resting firmly on your hips held you still too.

You could feel yourself clenching and relaxing around his shaft, could feel the needy pulse beating in your clit, the wanting ache in your thighs. But bonnie was strong enough to hold you still and the small amount of pressure he applied was enough to render you helpless.

He let his eyes trail the length of your body slowly and smiled, you were gorgeous and he wanted to memorise every detail of the way you looked in that moment. Wanted to lock your image away in the back of his mind so that next time he was in that ring he could remind himself just what he'd be going home to if he won.

"Jesus Christ y/n I think you might be a fuckin angel you know..." he smirked, his soft chuckle as he spoke leaving a blush which glowed on your cheeks and your breast bone. With one hand still holding your hips he let his other trail back up over your belly and between your breasts. His smirk lingering as he watched you shiver beneath his touch. He could get cocky sometimes, when he watched how weak you were for him. How dependent on him you were in these moments when you found yourself at the mercy of his touch.

"With a mouth like that you'd better hope I'm not... I'll tell on you and you'll never get to..." but just as the word 'heaven' teetered on the tip of your tongue Bonnie pushed your hip down, grinding your crotch against his so that instead of teasing him all you could do was shiver and whimper instead.

"What was that little dove?" He asked, sitting up a little straighter so that he could look you in the eyes as he fucked you.

You were lost for words then, your eyes sparkling with amusement, a shy kind of knowing when you met his gaze and held it giving in and letting him manipulate your body. Moving your hips to the rhythm he set with a little smile on your lips.

His nose knocked against yours as he caught your lips with his mumbling the softest "I love you" as he ground your hips down even harder than the last time, sending a wave of pleasure through your core and a flutter of butterflies through your tummy. You couldn't help the smile which glowed on your face as he kissed you again. He kissed the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, trailed a freckling of kisses alone your jaw and neck only to change his mind a moment later and return to kiss you on your open, moaning mouth.

Your back arched with pleasure as you began to pick up the pace, his hands smoothing up your waist, holding you firmly as you moved up and down his shaft, digging a little deeper each time as you tried to chase your high.

He ran his hands up your back and held your shoulders, pulling you in flush against his chest. Your nipples rubbing against his chest as the two of you moved in harmony, your sighs of pleasure harmonising too.

You could tell you were making a mess, could hear the water splashing over the side of the tub and hitting the floor in little waves, but you didn't care about that anymore.

All you cared about was getting as close to one another as possible. And all you knew was you couldn't get close enough.

You were growing desperate, clutching at one another, forehead to forehead, your eyes closed as you kissed fiercely and took all of the adrenaline from the fight out on one another.

"You know I don't understand," you whispered, your voice shaking as you snatched in little breaths only to let them go moments later with sighs of pleasure, "how the rest of the world sees you every day and isn't... Isn't as..." you were growing weaker by the second but when you held Bonnie's cheek in your hand and looked down at him through the steam rising from the water, you were determined to get your words out and speak from your heart, "isn't as in love with you as I am..."

And as the words left your lips you watched Bonnie smile, his eyes still closed. His lips finding yours quickly for another kiss before he hushed you. His lips brushed over your ear lobe as he whispered to you.

"Shh little dove," and slipped his thumb into your mouth to quiet you as he pushed himself up deeper inside you and enjoyed the way you shivered in his hands. "I love you too angel but hush now Dove.."

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you wrapped your lips around his thumb and sucked slowly, trying to relax so that you might hold on for a moment or two more.

But Bonnie didn't want you to hold on anymore, didn't want to watch you restrain yourself in anyway and so despite your best efforts to hold onto your high for a moment more, all it took was another teasing drag and thrust for you to come undone and collapse weak and shaking in his arms.

And hearing your little cry of pleasure as you crumbled was all it took to send him over the edge too so that as your body shook with your orgasm, you felt him grow inside you and release. A warmth filling you as he held you firmly down in his lap, squeezing your body so securely against his as you nuzzled into his shoulder and felt his lips on your neck. He nuzzled into you two, his chin on your shoulder as he dragged his lips over your skin and mumbled to you once again how much he loved you. How precious you really were to him.

You kept your eyes closed for a moment, your head bowed, your cheek against his as you listened to the sounds of your breath and his breath overlapping. The licking of the water against the tub slowing as everything in the room began to still with you.

You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he filled you up, your clit throbbing too as you ground hips at growing ever longer intervals.

You couldn't keep the smile from your lips, that giddy full of love feeling washing over you. The feeling only growing stronger when Bonnie looked up at you, held your cheek in his hand and guided you back to his mouth for a softer, even more tender kiss than all the others before it.

When he pulled away and leant back against the tub, his curly hair falling damp and lazy across his eyes, his smirk was lazy too. Lazy but smug. It left you eyeing him suspiciously as you asked what he was looking at you like that for.

For a second he was quiet, his mischievous little smirk twitching as he shrugged his shoulders and tried to play at innocence.

"Bonnie what?" You whined giggling though you were growing a little frustrated, a little desperate. He was making you blush again and the longer he left you in silence with that stupid smirk on his lips, the more desperately you needed to know. "Please Bonnie what?!"

"You wouldn't tell god on me..." he said, that smug smirk remaining and certain because he knew he was right. And you couldn't deny it either.

"No." You whispered sheepishly, looking down shyly as you bit back a smile. Didn't look away quick enough to miss the way Bonnie was gazing up at you still. As if he really did believe he was looking at an angel.

Taglist

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbyswhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@call-sign-shark

@only-malala

@galactict3a

@darkcastle167

@impossibleheartflower

[fayeforrosie]

Don't Make a Sound

Karaoke Nights Pt 2

Yunjin X Fem! Reader

Yunjin takes you to her dorm after finding herself having a lot more fun than she should've with you, and you know the night ahead will be one to remember

Read Karaoke Nights Pt 1 here

Warnings- Swearing, use of cannabis, sexual themes, choking, literally just pure smut

Word Count- 3.8k

There was a comfortable silence surrounding the Lesserafim dorms, all members sleeping peacefully in their separate rooms, lights dimmed low and the air conditioning being the only noise heard in all.

Chaewon had texted Yunjin asking of her whereabouts, and after getting a sincere responds, and her safety guaranteed, Chaewon allowed herself to get the sleep she needed, dismissing the fact that she could slightly hear the sound of faint laughter coming from the front door, thinking it was just Yunjin being obnoxious again.

You stumbled against the front door, Yunjin's hand wrapped over your mouth in attempt to contain your laughter as she fumbled with her keys. Just as she finally unlocked the door, before she could open it the idol looked down at you.

"You better be quiet when we walk in, got it?" She demanded in a stern yet almost unserious tone, and you found it a bit arousing.

"Yes master", you said sarcastically, earning an almost deafening laugh from Yunjin before she threw her hand to her mouth and disguised herself.

"You really are something", the girl mutters before slowly creaking the door ajar.

The two of you begin to tip-toe in, your hand in Yunjin's while she leads the way to her private room. You hear a floorboard creak bellow you, and the two of you stop like a deer in headlights, scared that it might have woken somebody up, but after a few seconds of stillness, you continue.

Finally Yunjin slowly pushes her own door open, holding it for you as you lead the way in.

Yunjin's dorm was different from what you expected. It might have been a stupid assumption, but you thought that maybe all idols would have a cute little room with adorable little princess posters, stuffed animals decorating their bed with fairy lights wrapped around the headboard. You were wrong, however, because Yunjin's room was nothing like you would think it would be.

She firstly had various records against her gray walls, different sizes in different areas, and additionally, she had a few posters of some music artists you could recognize. Nonetheless, a few things catching your attentions was the immense amount of clothes and items pilled onto her floor, almost too crowded for you to even walk, and you noticed an ashtray beside her bed in the shape of what seemed to be Michael Scott, which you thought was funny. The idol had a tapestry that was most likely an unserious thing, as it had Bertram from Jeese with a pride flag on his left cheek on it, and that was probably your favorite accessory here.

"I like the tapestry", you commented, and Yunjin came from behind you, her left hand rested atop of your butt with her head leaning on your shoulder. She was still a little high, so Yunjin had no problem being so touchy with you, and anyway, you seemed to enjoy it just as much as she did.

"Thanks", she smirked, her head tilted as you felt her teeth up against your neck.

You were on the verge of responding to her gratitude, however your breath instantly hitched when Yunjins lips began to move against the skin on your neck. Her lips were the softest pair you have ever had graze your body, the texture not far from what you would imagine a cloud to be.

"I'm obsessed with your body", Yunjin expresses, her hands complementing her remark as she slides them across your waist. You lean your head back on her shoulder, giving the idol free access to the entirety of your neck, and Yunjin doesn't hesitate to take advantage of what she is given, her tongue sliding across the bottom of your neck before her lips connect to your skin, already forming a hickey.

"Have you ever been fucked by a woman before", Yunjin questions, her hands still wandering free.

You shake your head, because although you have had a few sexual encounters with woman, you wouldn't exactly label them as getting fucked, more just a quick thing where a girl would go down on you in the bathroom of some party, or something like that.

"Good."

Yunjin lets go of your body and pushes you towards the bed, and you stumble to lay on your back, quickly smiling when you see the idol crawl over to you. Once level with your face, the American attaches her lips onto yours, moaning at how much she missed this feeling already.

Yunjin wastes no time in sliding her tongue into your mouth, her left hand beginning to make its way towards your neck, slowly wrapping around it, as if she was testing the waters, seeing how you would react. When she squeezes tighter, eliciting a moan from you, she knows she can be rough.

"Are you still high?" Yunjin asks you, her lips now painting a portrait on your jawline.

"A little, but I know what I'm doing", you respond.

"Good, because I'm starting to sober up, and I just want to make sure this is what you want."

Your hand rubs the back of her neck, your other squeezing her waist to ground yourself.

"I want this more than anything Yunjin", you lean slightly down, striving to reach the idol's lips, and Yunjin comes to notice this, tilting her head and connecting her lips to yours earnestly, tongue already equipped to explore your mouth.

"I want to eat your pussy so bad", Yunjin claims between kisses breathlessly, "your lips already taste like heaven", she moves her hand down to your clothed folds, rubbing against them subtly, "I wonder how you taste here."

You can't help but open your mouth, a hushed moan easily slipping off your tongue before you can hold it back, and it tickles the back of Yunjin's neck.

"Yunjin", your hands, while they previously were rubbing the back of her neck, are now clawing, in desperate need for her to do something to your body, anything.

"What baby, tell me."

You don't know if your senses are still fuzzy from the weed that you only imagined her calling you that, but it still wakes the butterflies inside your stomach once again.

"Please", you frantically beg, voice at a whisper, careful to not wake her members.

Yunjin doesn't like how you aren't expressing yourself, so she takes her hand away from your pants and places it against your cheek, forcing you to look at her.

Her thumb rubs along your bottom lip, and you open your mouth like you had done in the booth before, but the idol only laughs at you and pushes your face to look into an opposite direction, leaning to whisper in your ear.

"You're so quick to open that perfect mouth of yours for me aren't you", she plants a kiss on the shell of your ear, and your hand comes up to your mouth to block the sounds practically begging to come out.

"You want me so bad, don't you?"

You nod, hand still covering your mouth, and Yunjin despises that, so she grabs your jaw and forces you to look at her again, gripping a little harsher than intended.

"I'm not going to fuck your stupid little cunt until you answer me", Yunjin remarks sternly, eyebrows furrowed as if she was seriously mad, and in your perspective, you would think she was indeed upset.

"Yes Yunj-"

"Call me Jen", Yunjin cuts you off, her hold on your jaw loosening slightly. Being called Jen, a nickname she is referred to by only her closest of friends, was something she always wanted to be called by her romantic partner, and she doesn't know why she requested for you to do so, but it could be a thought for another time.

"O-ok... Jen", your eyes are trained on her, and while you are moderately intimidated, and a bit turned on by her glare, you decide to let the situation take over your body, so you leave all your nerves behind and give the woman on top of you what she wants.

"I want you to crawl to the bottom of the bed, get down in front of my pussy, and eat me out", you demand assertively, your gaze holding hers, as if the two of you were in a game, the loser being the one who broke off the stare in an act of intimidation.

"There you go", Yunjin uses her thumb on your bottom lip to open your mouth again, but you refuse to act further, afraid she might pull away, however your eyes broaden as you see her subsequently spit into your mouth, tasting her very own saliva on the base of your tongue, and she closes your mouth once again with a push under your chin.

"I guess you do know how to use that fucking mouth", she lightly taps your cheek before making her way to the middle of your thighs, hovering over your zipper of your pants.

She grasps onto the button, undoing the clasp before sliding down the zipper underneath. She slowly grabs onto the top of your pants, steadily bringing them down, taking her sweet time as a way to tease you, possibly for taking so long to answer her, or for her own foreplay pleasure, and once your pants reach your knees, you take it upon yourself to kick them off.

Once your pants are ridden to the opposite side on the room, Yunjin leans down to face the center of your underwear, hurriedly sliding those off, antithetical to how she was with your pants, and once the idol catches sight of what's in front of her, Yunjin practically drools.

"So fucking beautiful", Yunjin professes, her middle finger tracing across your folds, collecting a trail of your wetness before she places the same finger into her mouth, moaning at the taste, and you twitch from the sudden contact.

After getting a taste of you on her finger, Yunjin immediately knew she needed more, so without wasting a second, Yunjin pulled your legs under her shoulder and dove her head straight into your aching cunt. She closed her eyes, imagining the taste as something creating by the Gods from above, as if she was tasting the sweet nectar of an angel, and quite frankly, she was.

"God", Yunjin mumbled before attaching her lips to your clit, flicking her tongue across speedily in a way that made you audibly moan, forgetting about the circumstances, and you instantly brought a hand up to cover your mouth, your opposite one tangled in Yunjin's hair.

The way Yunjin's tongue jerked skillfully across your swollen clit, her fingers digging into your waste as her lips sucked harshly over were her tongue would brush, sent you into heaven. Your grip on her hair tightened and your head flew back, now faced with her white ceiling, still not sober enough to be able to tell the distance in which it had with your head, but the way Yunjin was eating your pussy so well, you might as well be seeing stars rather than a plane white wall.

"Fuck Jen, it feels so good", you moan silently as you grip the sheets below you with your right hand.

You begin to grind into Yunjin's face, hips rolling up in a middling pace, and with how good you taste, and how much of your cunt is smothered over Yunjin's mouth, the idol suddenly gets the urge to have more. To have more of you. To have more of your pussy. She can't just have her head in between your legs, she needs to have you on her.

When Yunjin pulls away, you moan at the discomfort of no longer having the warmth of her mouth, and you are about to complain but by the speed in which Yunjin was changing her position, you got the idea that she was planning something.

Yunjin's back collides with the mattress, now laying across from you.

"Come here", Yunjin asserts, and you lift yourself up with your elbow, an impatient Yunjin waiting for you to get on with it, and when you begin to wrap your leg to straddle the idol, she lets her restlessness get the best of her and pulls you harshly onto her, grabbing your waste to steady you.

You lean down and collide your lips with hers, mouth open as her tongue instantly enters, her hand finding itself comfortable on your neck.

"Sit on my face", Yunjin breathlessly whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on your cheek before you obey her words, getting off your knees and shuffling over to her face, now hovering her.

Yunjin looks up to face you, feeling a pool of wetness in her own cunt arise when she sees how you look above her, your pussy practically already dripping onto her lips.

The idol wraps her arms around your thighs and pulls you down eagerly, her tongue darting out and inserting itself into your hole, her lips anxiously sucking.

"God Jen, fuck!" You place one hand on her head while the other steadies your body by holding onto the adjacent head board. You go back to grinding on her mouth, this time you speedily moved your hips in order to chase your inevitable high.

"Yes god baby", your eyes are still trained on the ceiling, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer, "I'm gonna cum Jen."

Hearing this, Yunjin works her tongue faster, her right hand slipping down to her own pussy as she rubs her clit to the sounds of your impatient moans, feeling that she is going to cum with you as well.

You dig your teeth into your hand, a muffled moan screeching off your tongue as you finally reach your high. You move your hips rapidly, riding out your orgasm, unknowingly assisting Yunjin in her attempt to finish, her fingers rubbing hastily across her clit, her own moan enveloped by your cunt.

"Fuck Jen that felt so good", you comment, not before Yunjin laps up every last drop of liquid that escaped you.

You now lay beside her, chest rising and falling while you tried to catch your breath. Your high felt so good, it might have sobered you up to the point where you could easily speak for yourself and act upon whatever you wished.

"Stay here", Yunjin mutters, planting a kiss on your lips and getting up from the bed.

"I don't think I have anywhere to go", you laugh to yourself, however you don't hear anything from Yunjin, that is until your ears perk at the sound of a draw opening, and seconds later the bed dips with Yunjins body.

"Sit up", the idol says, and that's when you notice what was attached to her hips; a excessively sizeable strap.

Yunjin adjusts herself so she is now behind you, her hands enfolding your waist, and you feel her bare chest up against the skin of your back. You didn't even notice she took her shirt off, so you sneakily turn your head in the slightest to catch a glimpse of her breasts, and when your little mission is complete, you turn back around in satisfaction.

"What was that?" Yunjin huffs a giggle out, lightening the mood, however her hands failing to support her tone when they slide down to your distended pussy, rubbing through your slit as if she was preparing you for what's to come.

"I didn't realize you took off your shirt", you look back to the girl, and she smiles when she sees your face, kissing your lips swiftly, "I just wanted to see what they looked like."

Yunjin allows her head to fall on your shoulder, laughing at how cute you were.

"I want to see yours as well", Yunjin follows, and then unclasps your bra and rids it to the side, now able to admire your full body. She sighs at how perfect your breasts looked, her hands coming up to squeeze and trace along the curves.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met", Yunjin complements her words with small kisses scattered across your neck and shoulder.

"Kiss me."

The idol wastes no time in fulfilling your demand, her lips attaching themselves to yours like second nature, sliding together like puzzle pieces.

In the midst of your make out session, Yunjin removes her hand from your waste, bringing it to her strap and aligning it with your entrance.

"Are you ready?" Yunjin whispers, her forehead against yours.

"Please."

Yunjin's hand slides over your mouth, covering it as she enters your pussy, the wetness assisting how easy it was for her to slide in. It takes you a while to adjust, needing a few seconds after she fully bottoms out, and you bite onto her hand, your opposite arm engulfing the back of her head.

"God so good", you moan.

After knowing you were in a comfortable place, Yunjin moves her hips slowly, pumping into your entrance with ease. It's only a minute later that Yunjins begins to move at a faster paste, her hand still over your mouth, knowing you would scream aloud without the help of her.

"Fuck Y/n", Yunjin bites your shoulder, her free hand moving to rub against your piercing clit, "you're pussy feels so good."

How Yunjin whispers into the back of your ear makes the little hairs scattered across your body rise, goosebumps forming on your skin effortlessly, and with how fast Yunjin was going now, you found it hard to conceal your moans, and even with her hand covering your mouth, your noises began to get more and more audible.

"You better be fucking quiet", Yunjin mutters, "wouldn't want any of the members coming in here and seeing such a slut bounce on my cock."

Her dirty talk does no help in keeping you quiet, and Yunjin knows this, but does nothing to help, teasing you to your breaking point.

"You like this huh?" Yunjin spits down onto your breast, spreading her saliva across and squeezing your hardened nipple.

"You like being treated like a fucking whore", the rubbing of Yunjins fingers on your clit intensifies, "you better keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut before someone catches you."

Your head flies backwards onto her neck and you scream her name into the girls hand, clawing at her neck behind you as you bounce mercilessly on her dick.

"Now baby...", Yunjin slows her pace down, "I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth, and I'm going to fuck your tiny little cunt until your legs are shaking on my bed, and I swear to fucking god if you so much as even make a noise, I'm going to shove this cock down your throat so you can't make them anymore. Got it?"

You swear you could cum just off of what the woman behind you said, your cunt already tightening around her cock, and all you can do is allow a tear to slip from your eye and nod your head.

Just then, Yunjin removes her hand from your mouth, placing it below your chin.

"Spit", she declares, and you do just that, biting your lip to hold in your moan when Yunjin uses your own saliva to rub your clit rapidly.

Subsequently, the idol pushes you down so you are on all fours, and you feel too weak that you can barely even hold yourself up from your shoulders.

Yunjin doesn't stop pounding into you from the back, her hand colliding against your ass too many times for you to count, and you find it a bit hypocritical that she was making an immense amount of noise above you, all the while demanding you mustn't mutter a single word while she fucked you this hard.

Your head is deep into the sheets, tears at the brim of your eyes once again and you find it insanely hard to not let out any noises.

"I'm close", you whisper, just loud enough for Yunjin to hear and pick up her pace.

You can't take it anymore when the girl grabs your hair and pulls it back, finding everything all too arousing to handle.

"Nothing to hide your moans anymore", Yunjin smirks, knowing well of what she's doing.

"I'm going to make you cum on this cock and you're gonna stay fucking silent."

One last pound into your G-spot sends you into complete and utter abyss, and you open your mouth to release a prolonged round of moans imploring to escape, but you think back to what Yunjin asked you to do, and you hold it in to the best of your ability, body jerking as a result of the unreleased tension. You think you hear Yunjin mutter a 'good girl' behind you, but you are too high on lust to even notice.

"Fuck", you breath, "that was so good."

-

"So have you ever fucked a fan before?" You question.

All the lights were turned off in Yunjin's room now, the two of you lay beside each other, staring up at the ceiling, high once again after smoking a newly rolled blunt.

"Yeah every night."

You look over to the idol, only to see she was already looking at your with a goofy smile, and that's when you realize she's joking, so you unconsciously let out a sigh of relief.

"Believe it or not but you're my first one", she smiles.

"Wow... it's an honor."

"Oh yeah?" You can practically hear Yunjin's smirk beside you.

"Shut up, you're too cocky."

"Well", Yunjin faces you again, her head now rested securely atop of her hand, "my cockiness brought me you. If I wasn't cocky enough to make a move, maybe we wouldn't be here."

"Oh save it, I was the one who made the move", you smile and place your head on your hand like Yunjin had done, facing her.

"What? I was totally the one to do it!"

"If that's what helps you sleep at night", you laugh, earning a soft push on your chest, and when you come back, Yunjin grab your neck and softly pulls you to her, connecting her lips to yours.

"I want to see you again", the idol mumbles against you.

"Me too", you smile.

"Let's get coffee tomorrow. No drugs or anything, just us two."

You raise your eyebrows at the girl, "are you asking me on a date?"

"I'm not asking", Yunjins thumb runs across your cheek softly, "I'm telling you."

"And what if I say no?" You giggle.

"You wouldn't", the idol arrogantly cracks.

"You're right", you shake your head in defeat and Yunjin's smile brightens.

"So it's a date?" She infers, and you nod contentedly.

"It's a date."

~

Yahhhh part 2!!! The end part kind of looks rushed lol, but i hope everyone liked it:)) i almost never write smut so it was definitely something new to me, but ill work on getting better🙏🙏 I love you all thank you for your support<33

Next up... The Only One I Want Pt 5;)

[spiteless-xo]

Oml those nsfw promps?? 👀

Would you be interested in any one of the following:

Zeke with 72 “That is kinky even by my standards…”

Levi with 207 “Don’t give me that look”

Geto with 38 “I think you deserve a treat.” …Because maybe you deserve a treat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

oooo, options!!

i'm going to attempt levi because i've never really written him before and hey, what better time to try than a sunday evening when i'm resting in bed w a tummyache? 🙈 apologies in advance if it's horrible

list of prompts ⋆ masterlist

╰┈➤ smut prompts - 207. “Don’t give me that look.”

ft. levi/gn!reader cw. unedited, not proofread, explicit sexual content (handjob, mention of masturbation, sexual fantasies), explicit language. 1,759 words.

Levi pinches the space between his brows, sighing heavily as Hange speaks -- trying to give some sort of pathetic excuse for their mistake.

"There's only one bed?" Levi grumbles in frustration.

"Well, no, there are three, Levi -- if you had been listening to me, you would've heard that."

"I heard you, four eyes," he says with a sigh before gesturing between himself and you. "But there's only one bed, for us."

Hange nods, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose. "Commander Erwin needs his own room -- for privacy reasons, of course -- and I'm staying in Eren's room for observational purposes so --"

"So, that leaves one bed," Levi repeats, glancing over at you, standing nervously to the side, "for us."

"It'll be fine, you don't even need a full bed, anyway," Hange snickers. "Get it, because you're short?"

"I get it," he hisses, pushing past Hange into the bedroom.

Hange offers you a sympathetic shrug before walking off to their shared bedroom with Eren, whistling a cheerful tune.

Swallowing thickly, you follow Levi into the bedroom and shut the door behind you. "I can find somewhere else to sleep, Captain."

"That won't be necessary."

Levi is already searching through the dressers and closets for extra bedding. He finds some quickly, pulling out blankets and pillows and then throwing them onto the ground.

"I'll just sleep on the floor."

"Captain, I --"

"That's an order."

You furrow your brows at him in confusion and he responds by quickly turning away from you to hide the blush as it grows across his face. It's bad enough that he's stuck sharing a bed on this mission -- but did it have to be with you of all people?

Levi found himself flustered around you more often than not. Misspeaking during drills... dropping things... stupid little mistakes that he had never been guilty of before.

Not until you joined his squad.

"We have to be up early for tomorrow's mission," he says, kneeling down on the ground as he makes himself a place to sleep. "You should get some rest."

Even with his back turned toward you, he can tell you're fidgeting -- unsure of what to do.

"Relax," he insists. "Go to bed."

You hum in response and he hears you start to work on unbuckling the straps of your ODM gear. Levi swallows thickly and keeps his head low, fluffing up his pillow needlessly as he hears you undoing belts and straps -- his face burning hot.

He starts to work on his own straps quietly, still respectfully keeping his back to you as he pulls off his ODM gear. He sets it down next to his bed before pulling off his boots and then crawling into his makeshift sleeping bag.

You walk across the room, still dressed in your clothes from today, and blow out the candles in the room. Levi watches you carefully through narrowed eyes as you blow out each candle with a soft puff of your breath -- stepping up onto your toes to reach a particularly high candle -- Levi bites his lip just as the two of you are submerged in darkness.

"Goodnight, Captain."

"Goodnight."

---

Levi wakes to the sound of his own teeth chattering.

He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and breathes out a slow sigh. Even as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can see his breath and he realizes that the temperature must have dipped drastically overnight.

He curls into himself and cups his hands around his face, breathing steam into his palms in an effort to keep himself warm. He looks around the room from his position on the floor for some kind of heater or fireplace -- but there's nothing.

"Captain Levi?" you whisper from above him. He hums in response, clenching his jaw hard to prevent his teeth from knocking into each other. "Are you ok? It's gotten really cold."

"I'm fine," he says, but the trembling of his jaw betrays his true feelings.

He can hear you moving on the bed beside him and although his back is still turned toward you, he can tell you're leaning by the edge of the bed, now.

"Do you... want to come up here?"

"That wouldn't be appropriate."

"You're... really cold."

The concern in your voice makes his face burn hot and despite his pride, his toes are going numb and he knows he won't be able to get back to sleep when he's shivering like this.

"Move aside," is all he says when he sits up, before crawling into your bed from the ground like some kind of animal.

Instantly, he feels much warmer, whether due to being off the floor or the heat radiating from your body. But he's still trembling.

"Should we, um..."

Levi already knows what you're about to suggest and the thought has blood rushing down between his legs.

No, no -- he cannot allow himself to get hard next to you right now.

"Should we --"

"I'm fine," he snaps, and it's harsher than he had intended but he needs you to stop because now his body is shaking from how tightly wound-up he is and he needs to just go to sleep before he embarrasses himself.

But then Levi feels you shuffling closer to him in the bed until your chest is pressed against his back. His breath catches in his throat when your arm slides around his front, pressing firmly into his stomach.

"Captain, you're shivering," you say, whispering into his ear and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. "Commander Erwin will kill me if you die of frostbite tonight."

Despite himself, he snorts, melting back against the warmth of your chest. His heart thunders in his chest at the same time that his cock throbs painfully in his slacks -- did you even realize what kind of an effect you had on him?

You rub your palm across his stomach -- a warming gesture, Levi thinks -- but it only serves to build the growing ache between his thighs. He releases a shuddered breath, squirming slightly to subtly adjust himself, but then you slide one of your legs between his, bringing your thigh up between his legs.

"Captain, I --" your hand seems to dip lower, fingertips brushing against the waistband of his slacks and Levi feels his mouth go dry. "I hope this is not too forward... but I've always admired you."

Levi says nothing in response -- he can't. He's too busy hyper-focusing on the way your hand seems to be gently working open the button of his pants.

Was this a dream?

"I begged to be put on your squad," you admit, breath hot against the shell of his ear as you drag his zipper down. "But you never even look at me."

"I look at you," he hisses when your palm presses against his hardened bulge. "I look at you -- all the time."

It feels like you're smiling against his neck, lips pressing softly into his skin as your hand moves, sliding back up to the waistband of his briefs, only to dip inside.

"Is that true?"

When your fingers wrap around him, he can only groan in response. His body shudders at the feeling of your warm, soft palm grasping his cock and giving him a firm squeeze.

"You do so much for us, Captain," you whisper, as if you already know he's about to protest. "Let me do this for you."

Levi trembles forward, every inch of his body lighting up at once when you start to stroke along his length. It's embarrassing how quickly you're able to bring him to the edge with just your hand on his cock and your mouth on his neck.

You run your hand up his length, swiping your thumb across his tip to smear the spilt precum and he moans at the feeling, hips bucking forward. You kiss him softly behind the ear and he shudders -- you hold your hand steady as he fucks your fist, breathing quickly growing erratic as his gut tightens.

"Feels good," he groans when you squeeze him a little tighter. Levi throws his head back against your shoulder as your mouth latches onto his neck, licking and sucking the sensitive spot where his shoulder meets his neck.

He's fantasized about this moment -- about having you touch him like this -- for longer than he's willing to admit. Hunched over in the showers, hand fisting his own cock to thoughts of you. The way the sweat glistens on your face after a day in the sun, how you smile around mouthfuls of food when the others joke around during dinner.

He wants to ruin you -- cover every inch of your skin with his cum, marking you as his. He's fantasized about having you wait for him in his office after each mission, down on your knees with your mouth hanging open -- ready to please him. He's pictured bending you over his desk and sinking inside of you, plunging his cock into your warm, wet hole, and using you until you're just babbling his name out in ecstasy.

Levi cums with a guttural moan, body tensing as his cock shoots ropes of cum across your hand. He gasps as you keep stroking him through it, milking his cock for every drop until he's just a whimpering, trembling mess in your arms.

The two of you lay there for a moment, wrapped up in each other with Levi's cock softening in your hand, until you pull away -- reaching behind you for a cloth to clean up the mess on your hand and the front of Levi's pants.

He relaxes into you with a sigh, still never once turning to face you throughout the night, and the two of you fall asleep in the warmth of each other's bodies.

--

"How was your sleep, Levi?" Hange asks cheerfully when the two of you exit the bedroom. Levi is still adjusting the tightness of his straps as he looks over at them, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Fine," he says and Hange's smile grows.

"Did the bed feel good, last night?"

"I slept on the floor," he insists, but his face burns in embarrassment and there's a sinister glint in Hange's eyes.

"The walls are pretty thin," they knock on a nearby wall for emphasis. Levi tries to push past them but they stand firmly in the way, waggling their eyebrows at Levi in delight.

"Don't look at me like that," he snaps, swallowing thickly to hide his shame as Hange cackles.

"Oh, but Levi, I'm always looking at you."

"Shut up!"

[sintiva]

‏‏‎ ‎ //santa's sleigh

ft. geto x black!reader

. *. ⋆summary: geto can only think of one way to settle the boredom and desperation that occurs when you two get stuck in traffic on the way to a christmas party

‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎. *. ⋆contains: gn!reader, they/them pronouns, fem!bodied‎ ‏‏‎fourth‎ ‏‎ reader, chubby reader, a lot of back and fourth, dirty talk, “car sex”, praise, pet names, slight cursing, geto is well versed with reader’s body, alcohol consumption (just… two shots), fingering, fem!masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, geto edges himself!, foot job (with stockings on), geto has a stocking fetish, established relationship!!! //wc: 3.4k

. *. ⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sin's notes: this wasn’t short and sweet, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’m trying to work harder on my dialogue, so there is kinda a lot of dialogue in this (it simply adds to their relationship🫶🏽

you both peer at each other when the clump of red lights became all too real. the car stops, and you both wallow in frustration. you cave first, irritated only because of your lack of patience. somehow, someway geto would have to make up for his sluggish behavior. 

“it’s your fault we’re stuck in traffic you know,” you then extend your lips to your window and turn your head towards the center of the car slightly so you can turn the music up, “if you’d let me do your hair yesterday we would’ve been fine.”

“now we’re super la-”

“shut up.” he retorts. he wraps both of his fists around the wheel and circles them around the diameter of it. his fingers, decorated with a plethora of rings scrape the suede. when they meet at the bottom; his body slumps forward and his forehead bonks the horn. ultimately making it sound off, and forcing the car in front of you to retaliate. beeping theirs twice and throwing up the lovely bird outside their window. 

“you should’ve just done it.” he continued on, ignoring the altercation before.

you turn in your seat, angrily perplexed. first, he cut you off, and second of all, it was to shut you up! over his stupid head of hair? outrageous!

“and how was i supposed to do that, huh big guy?,” you cocked your eyebrow and got in his face quickly. all he saw was a red blob zip across the middle console; he swears he saw little flakes of glitter fall from your eyelids as you shifted. 

“if you weren’t whining and moaning like a bitch yesterday, your hair could’ve been done.” 

“i was not,” he finally looks at you and squints his eyes in disbelief, “maybe grunting, but it’s cause you were hurting me!” 

“i was only parting your hair geto!” your mouth hung open as you stared at him in utter disbelief. 

‘you might wanna move up though’, you tilt your head to the right so he’d see the point five millimeters of space that opened between his hood and the trunk of the other. 

‘ope, thanks bae’

‘anyways’ “it still hurt!” he frowns and rubs soothing circles against his cranium in remembrance of the pain. 

if there was one thing about the two of you, one common similarity that never failed to shine; it was the way you two interacted. both overly animated and always working the other’s nerves. 

“but i was being gentle!” you feign a sniffle and peer at him above the rim of your glasses. “i was being as gentle as possible,” you whine, softly and make a giant heart out of your arms. 

“why would i try and hurt you?” 

“why wouldn’t you?” he smirks and runs his hands through his hair as he lets his left one situate at the bottom left of the steering wheel. he spreads his legs and moves his seat back to get comfy, because even though the content banter keeps him on his toes; he realizes you two would be stuck in this traffic for a while. 

“fuck you,” you suck your teeth and rotate your body away from his. your knees knock against the car door and you slip your hands in between your thighs. he yanks at the red fishnets you have on, so it softly slaps back against your skin — he does it repeatedly. 

“what time?” he coos back, sweetly. he licks his lips with a low gaze as he waits for you to spin back around to- 

“you’re such a child you know that?” you spin around, nearly dizzy from the number of times you’ve refocused your attention. your brain’s practically on its stem knocking against your skull initiating a subtle throb. 

“no, i’m not.” 

“mhm, that’s why you’re on my naughty list.” your lips curl into a smile, and you boop his nose with the tip of your finger. you place your elbow on the center space to get closer to him. naughty list, the fuck?

“you don’t have a naughty list, that’s my job. i’m the one with the santa hat and red tuxedo.” he does have some sort of a valid point. he looks a little goofy with his hat, but it doesn’t hide his handsome face features. his smile is stretched wide across his face, as he levels his face with yours on the console and squeezes your cheek.  

“owwwaa!” you yelp out and rub your cheek. “i-look at you being naughty! i thought santa was supposed to be nice.”

“well his partner is being a bit naughty.” his face inches closer to yours — treading upon dangerous waters. 

“your partner doesn’t agree with that statement.” 

then you move closer.

‘move up again’ 

he shifted his car out of park and lightly tapped the gas to decrease the gap. as quickly as he shifted gears and pulled up; he reversed his actions. ‘thanks’

“mmm, maybe his partner should, considering i can smell the alcohol on their lips.”

now he’s close enough to smell the mix of peppermint and fireball? no, no you have some class. it’s jack daniels — tennessee fire, chased with apple juice and peppermints to rid the smell. along with a pop of peppermint lip gloss. 

“yeah? you know i don’t go to parties sober — ever. i admire you for being able to.” you squeeze his cheeks and let your lips brush against his as your eyes shift to the back seat. then back to him, then down to his crotch, and your stare lingers for too long because he asks— 

“something caught your eye?” he looks to the back seat. “no.” 

he uses two fingers to lift your chin. “you wanna go to the back?” 

“feeling hot? that’s why you’re being slick out the mouth huh?” he squeezes your cheeks and kisses your lips. “n-no.” you stutter. your tongue feels oddly heavy in your mouth. it’s enough to make you slur a few slick remarks under your breath. 

but before you knew it, geto was coaxing you to the back of the car while he drove to the shoulder and flicked on his hazard lights. all while rubbing and patting your ass as you slipped through the tiny slot to the back. anxious and ready to feel some relief. the constant banter and the light thoughts in your brain left you impatient and horny. 

it took a lot more work for him to get to the back. he tried to slip back there with some grace, but he was bumping everything, shaking the car and leaving his santa hat in the front as it slid off from his head dragging along the roof of the car. even the little bit of eco gel he used to slick his hair down was useless as strands stood up and fell along his face on his adventure to the back seat.

“easy peasy.” he gloated as he caught his breath. 

“you’ve got some liner on your cheek… and on the back of your seat.” you laugh innocently, and he uses the back of his hand to wipe the black pigment of his skin. “i wonder why.” he rolled his eyes. 

“i didn’t tell you to kiss me.” you answered back with that usual influx in your tone — as if you were pressed that he did. “i didn’t tell you to look so fucking good either, it looks like we both don’t know how to ask for permission.” he shrugs his shoulders and starts unbuttoning the ruby red of his tuxedo jacket.

“especially you.”

he peers into your eyes with intent — the intent of murder is right on his mind. and his “murderous” intent was always handled sexually. the slant of his eyes makes you burn under his gaze. his eyes are dark and unwavering; scary but inviting. 

“you don’t scare me.” you begin stretching out your legs; chubby extremities, that lead down to chubby feet. you wiggle your toes as your back slips down the door; inching your feet closer to his groin. he obviously wants you to touch him. his legs are spread. one foot is anchored down into the seat, and the other dangles on the ground, because there definitely isn’t enough space for the two of you in the back. 

but for these circumstances, it’s more than enough space. 

your foot finally reaches its goal. during this “staring” contest you rub your foot along the hardening, gift of god, in his pants. your press your foot against his dick, and use your toes to “stroke” it to the best of your ability. he’s trying not to break, but the amount of pressure you're exerting from that little foot of yours — just to give him some pleasure is working. it’s working wonders. 

you’re cracking his attempt at being stoic. you can’t see it, but he’s gritting his teeth. sliding the molars back and forth as if he’s trying to relieve the pain of sore gums. he’s on the stand, trying to plead the fifth, but he fails miserably. his hips buck up, and he grunts a small “shit.”

“what was that, baby.” you gaze with soft eyes. soft, wet eyes, that never fail to make geto wish he had stronger resolve. your head tilts to the side as you try to put your finger on it.

“you’re hearing things,” he replies — stone-faced, but his hands reach out to massage the soles of your feet. geto’s fingers slip and tug at the lacy material, it stretches due to eager fingers. he runs them along the thin black stockings that you wore underneath them, and he fondles what little of your skin he can feel. touching you is his sanctuary. 

“mhm? i can hear just fine, i just can’t see all that well.” you point to the big square frames that settle on the plumpness of your cheeks. 

“but can you unbutton these for me?” you ask so politely and direct his fingers with your toes. you rub at the space that hides the button and zipper that fasten his pants together. it’s straight warmth across your foot as you massage his bulge with your foot.  

“and can you spread your legs for me?” he pleads almost as his fingers work to free himself from his pants. “that’s a simple request.” 

the ruffles of your red mini skirt flip up with ease, and you spread your legs just as he asks. you throw your left leg, up and over the headrest of the back seat, but not before dragging it over his thighs. your foot arches as he catches it in his palms, and caresses the souls of them. he’s careful and his moves have been calculated with the utmost precision. 

he can’t feel the heat pooling in between your thighs, but you can feel how warm it is and the cool air fanning the interior gives you some relief. “it’s a shame, but i’m gonna need to make a little slit in these.” 

he pulls at the fabric once more and moves his body to meet yours in the middle. this interaction requires more effort on suguru’s part, because, like always you make him work for it. even though you want it just as badly. 

truly, you want it more “su… these are my favorite you know.” he’s not listening; were you even talking at this point? just babbling nonsense. he’s inching closer. closer. and closer till his hands are situated in between your legs. the decision he’s considering is whether he should stuff his hands in your stockings, or just rip a perfect little slit, so he can sink a finger inside. 

“there my favorite too, doll.” 

as always the latter wins. it fulfills his fantasy in a better way, a better execution. so he defies you. he gets to splitting the stockings right where nobody can see them, but him. 

when he finally sees skin, he’s losing his composure. stars, hearts, and pearls cloud his vision when he sees the wetness situated between your folds. he separates them with his fingers and slips just one finger between them. from the entrance up to your clit; he’s covering his finger in all that slick. all while maintaining eye contact. entrancing you with his eyes. 

making you squeeze your hands together, and knit your brows when he massages your clit. a smooth ooh, baby — right there you coo. “i know, i know.”  he soothes. 

he blows strands of hair out of his face and licks his lips when he sees your expression. fucked out eyes, and ragged breaths. each whisk of his finger against your clit, forces constricted labored breaths. hazy eyes, and more of your arousal leaks onto his leather seats. 

“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers.

“mmph,” you squeeze your eyes shit when he pushes his finger harder against your clit, “i-thank you.” you sigh. 

“now i need you to do something for me.” he begins. you can barely tell that his lips are moving, but you nod your head and hum a short response. “i want you to play with yourself for me while i help you. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” 

“thank you, baby.” 

once he pulls his finger back, a thick coat of arousal sticks to his fingers. creating a connection that he snips when his tongue wraps around the digit. he lets it settle on his tongue, and gets closer so he can steal a kiss. a simple, slow, lazy kiss that grants you a taste. sweet and simple. you moan into his mouth sucking every bit of you off his tongue. ’s good, honey’

like clockwork, your fingers drop to the mess in between your legs, and suguru indulges in the feeling of his hand and your foot caressing his dick. just a few pumps and he’s stuffing his fingers back inside of you for some lube. taking it and smearing your sweet mess all over his tip. giving himself lazy, slow strokes while your toes parted to compensate for his girth. 

he shuddered from the mesh pattern stroking at the thick vein that bulged from the base of his cock all the way up to his frenulum. it felt heavenly. his adam’s apple bobs with each gulp he takes. the pleasure spirals up to his brain; nearly clouding his thoughts.

“geto, are you gonna tell me what to do?” you reel him back to his senses. 

“yeah-fuck, just one finger first,” he instructed. you listened obediently; rubbing your middle finger innocently between your folds before you sunk it in. slowly, perfectly slow until you stuffed yourself full with it. you squeaked out in pleasure and embarrassment. his eyes bored into the space between your legs. stuck like glue, transfixed on how perfect you looked when you played with yourself. 

but embarrassment flooded your senses. your thighs slowly pressed together in an attempt to shield yourself. geto was aware that at some point your resolve would crumble. you couldn’t take it. mutual anything tore you apart. you tried to focus. you really tried to the best of your abilities. 

yet, seeing the beads of pre cum trickle from his tip made you hot. seeing how tight of a grip he held around his dick made you ache and squeeze around your finger, and here he was planning mutual enjoyment, and you couldn’t tell who was enjoying it more. who was licking their lips more, grunting more? it wasn’t fair how much of you he could see. 

it was geto who was more fixated on the way your fingers drove in and out of your pussy. the squelching and thick drops of arousal that splashed on his seats were rewarding enough. he tuts, squinting his eyes and reaching forward when they hide your cunt from his gaze.

geto’s hand wrap around the plushness of your thighs, “don’t be embarrassed, keep them, open baby. i want to see everything.” his fingers dig into the plush of them, turning the tips white. a smile tugs at his lips when you yelp out in pain. but you feel yourself clench from the simple action of control.   

he took the opportunity to spread them again, and this time he used his dangling foot to hold yours down. leading his foot over your calf and locking it under your thigh — fair restraint. keeping them entangled ensures that you can't snap them close no matter how badly you try. 

“s-sorry.” you muttered. now slightly embarrassed that he crept even closer towards you in this cramped back seat. 

“instead of apologizing why don’t you just make yourself cum. can i see how pretty you look when you cum?” 

his features turn soft. he gazes with soft, pleading eyes and hunches over to run kisses all along your covered thighs. nothing else sounds better than your soft submission of, “yes, i can.” 

“put another finger in, okay?” 

“and go slow, like this-“ he wraps his thumb and index around his cock to show you how he’d like you to do it. he ruts his dick into the circle he forms and glides it through at a snail's pace. “this slow okay,” he points his head towards you; indicating the start of your demonstration, “show me.” 

“slow like this?” you relax around your finger, and slip your ring finger in. “just like that.” he affirms. “good job, baby,” he lifts the foot you had wrapped around the back headrest, and brings it to his face. “match my pace.” he hums. 

he kisses the sole of it, and urges you on; making sure each of your moves punctuates at the same time. quiet affirmations slip off his tongue as he watches you, i love watching you play with your pussy, baby

“thank you, thank you.” you moan 

you know i love it when you're good to me. 

“you ‘bout to cum?” he asks. it’s a question he knows the answer to. instead of fucking yourself with your fingers, you’re rolling your hips against them. panting and groaning for release. going a little bit faster than the pace geto had set for you both. he was waiting for it, because he wanted you to cum first. he was painfully close to his release, a white glob of cum slowly dripped out of his tip, and he bit his lip to hold it in. 

the glob falls on his index finger, and he brings it to your attention. “look at what you did.” he lets go of your leg and reaches out to cradle your head against his. 

“yeah?” you groan. 

your foreheads press together and he circles his index around your clit. he smears his cum over your clit, and applies enough pressure to make your legs shake. he tilts his head further down and drops a fat wad of spit on it, and when he guides it the wet sound increases. sticky and cumbersome; loud like the gentle smacking of puckered lips. 

you draw your head back and let it fall against the car window. your legs twitch and your body slumps against the door, as a deep groan travels up from your chest all the way to your throat. you’d been holding your breath chasing your release, and all you needed to topple over was geto’s help in rubbing it out. 

“you did so well.” he smiles and kisses you all over. your cheeks, nose, and even your sweaty forehead. he moves your underwear back over your pussy and pats it, then he tries to reassemble the stocking and make the slit as invisible as possible. 

he stuffs himself back in pants suit with great difficulty and sets his sights on the driver's seat. his hair is a fucking mess, but he places the santa hat right back on its temple. he gives you a stupid smile from the front seat, but you look gloomy. 

“you didn’t cum.” you pout. 

“it’s okay,” he reaches back to cradle your face, and kisses your plump, tear-stained cheeks. “when we get home, i’ll fuck you just how i please.”  

“so? do we really need to go to this party?” he flips his indicator on and slowly merges into the thinning traffic. 

“well…we’re already late, so we don’t really have to. you lay back in the backseat, and give him a thumbs-up,

“perfect.” 

tagging: @blkcupid @artemisthestar @venusflytrapstar @sirenh4ll @si00p @444yeager @rayemelanin @privateparty3 @chosoguapo @getosbunny