#had to write about this cos it's so ridiculous

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok cos i doubt any non-brit is gonna have heard about this, but there's a councillor who's claiming she had small talk about the broken hand dryer with a trans woman in a toilet and told her that she was going to 'wipe her hands (dry) on her penis'... and this was published... in an actual newspaper (if u can even call the daily mail a newspaper lol...) and also written it in a letter about 'safeguarding women' to an mp and like...

at no point does this woman think that maybe mAYBE she misheard this woman cos who the fuck would say they're gonna wipe their hands on their dick, even as a threat (as the councillor believed it was) like ??? terfs please use your fucking brains for once in your goddamn lives challenge jfc lol

[kaysungshine]

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say. 

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

[bunnyrafe]

https://www.tumblr.com/bunnyrafe/756630959136325632/send-me-your-thoughts-stuff-to-write-when-i-get

hmmm i’m thinking size kink with blue collar rafe and babydoll… (totally not projecting bc i’m 5ft) whenever she shows up to have lunch w her big tall man she leaves everyone wondering how that possibly works in the bedroom, especially bc her man likes to brag about his little babydoll (i imagine all his co workers are standing around like 🧐 czvxvx)

“her man likes to brag about his little babydoll” SEDATE ME !!! rafey’s so big 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 and yes, his coworkers and crew are all so intrigued when you visit. whether you pull up to the worksite in the ridiculously expensive car rafe bought you or to the actual office, they’re in awe of you and curious about every facet of your marriage. especially the naughtier side to it. even more so when you bring ‘em food & baked goods. rafe forces them all to say thank you.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. blue collar!rafe AU f!reader, babydoll!reader, size kink, dumbification.

“did the boys enjoy their lunch?”

you’re too sweet for your own good… don’t even know how much his crew drools over you the second they hear your heels clicking against the pavement, strutting in like you own the place in your little dresses with a designer purse on your shoulder like a true working man’s trophy wife.

rafe knows you never miss out on a chance to show off and it helps that you clearly had some extra time today...

“of course they did, baby,” he drawls out.

he’s sitting at the kitchen table with you standing between his legs, large hands holding and squeezing your hips soothingly while a grin tugs at his lips— “startin’ to worry you care about them more than me… they’re obsessed with you, y’know that right?”

“don’t be ridiculous, rafey.”

he watches you walk into the kitchen, house shorts riding up and showing off the fullness of your ass. your thighs jiggle with every step you take, and rafe has to take a deep breath and control himself to make sure he can help you make dinner like he promised. so he drops it… for the time being.

it’s a blessing and a curse for you, because it doesn’t cross his mind again until he has you underneath him that night.

you’re struggling to keep up with his thrusts, hiccuping out a whimper with every push ‘n pull of his hips that smack against your ass. he’s so much bigger than you. stronger than you ever will be in so many different ways. you have no choice but to take it, but both of you like it that way.

your nails dig into the same pillow you’re drooling into. you nearly force yourself to bite on it to quiet down a bit. but rafe can’t have that— he yanks you up by a mean grip on your jaw, leaning over you so you can hear everything he grinds out between his teeth. right next to your ear.

“they all believe you’re some fuckin’ angel.” possession drips off of every word, prompting your creamy cunt to flutter around him while he carries on, “but here y’are— goin’ dumb on my dick that they think you can’t even take.”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.” 

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[pearlessance]

Moral Modification

Summary: When you decide to pierce your nipples, Joel Miller breaks his moral code to lend a helping hand.

Pairing: JacksonEra!Joel Miller/reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, seduction, age gap(undefined), piercings and needles, nipple play, moral ambiguity, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, size difference

NOTE: this one shot was written for my bff joelmillersgirlfriend and all of the bolded words are titles of her fics over on AO3!! if you haven't read any of her work i def recommend going over there to check it out she's incredible. we also have a 3-part co-write we did on AO3 called False Pretenses! thank you to everyone for reading, love u all <3

[cross posted on AO3]

[masterlist]

You find it on a scouting mission.

Maria had sent you and Joel out in search of books to fill the shelves of Jackson’s overused library. It was a leisurely mission, moving slowly from house to house, searching through broken shelves and dressers and nightstands.

The blistering summer heat has you feeling exhausted by midday, and so the sun hasn’t even set when you pick a still-standing apartment complex and settle in for the night.

You drop your pack and flop onto the moth-eaten couch while Joel triple-checks every exit and every entrance in the tiny apartment he’d picked on the very top floor. He’s going at it again, glancing out of the wide windows with his rifle in hand, when you say, “If there was a way in or out, I think you would’ve found it the third time.”

He doesn’t say anything. Not a man of many words, Joel Miller. But he was certainly fun to torture with lewd suggestions. 

“It’s real hot today,” you say. And it’s the goddamn truth—your skin is warm and your shirt sticks to the small of your back, and even though you’re wearing jean shorts the fabric chafes at your thighs. 

He does nothing but grunt in agreement as a reply. Few words. 

Though you try, you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you tell him, “We’d be a lot cooler if we took off some of these clothes, you know.”

Joel Miller is a good man. A really good man. This is why he pretends you don’t get to him, why he pretends to shrug you off as just a naive little girl whenever you brazenly flirt with him.

But you see it. 

The way his calloused hands tighten around his rifle, the flush that creeps up his neck, the way he turns his head just enough to keep that smirk from out of view. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. But he leaves his spot at the window and joins you on the couch instead.

You set your legs in his lap and when he rests his hand on your calf you half expect him to push you away. But he doesn’t—his fingers linger, pressing into the tender muscle. “How am I ridiculous? It’s only common sense, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes catch yours at the name. He’s never directly said it, but you have a hunch that it does something to him, speaking to him as an authority. A part of you wonders if he ever thinks of you in the way you think of him, wonders if his mind is often filled with sinful, raw images. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” You do. Of course, you do. But you’re out here all alone and he’s sitting beside you and you can feel the heat of his skin against yours and he’s so big and warm and masculine. You want him, need him in a way you’ll never even try to understand. “Explain it to me,” you urge.

Joel leans his rifle against the arm of the couch and reaches up to rub the tension from his jaw. He smiles, one of those all-knowing smiles that makes your heart flutter. It’s a secret sort of smile, meant for just you and him. “You got any idea how old I am, girl?”

You shrug and say, “It doesn’t matter.” Because it doesn’t. “I like that you’re older. Besides, I’m not talking about that.” You are. “I’m talking about the weather. The heat. I’m going to take my shorts off.”

Slowly, carefully, you trail your fingertips over the curve of your chest, down the center of your abdomen. His eyes follow your every movement, pupils blown wide and jaw set firmly. His hand flexes around your calf, squeezing softly.

When you slip the edge of your pinky beneath the denim waistband his lips part. You trace the seam, from one hip to the other and back again, real slow. Joel watches you and you watch him, transfixed, thighs pressed together to abate the ache that forms between them.

For a moment, a single moment, you think you have him. You can see the temptation on his face, clear as day. You think you’ve finally cracked the eternal goodness and strength of one Joel Miller…but his hand covers yours the moment you reach for the silver button.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and you feel a little like you’ve been caught red handed. 

His fingers squeeze yours, but his touch is so sudden and electrifying that the faintest whimper erupts from your chest. You want him to touch you with those hands, to touch you everywhere. You want him to take all that you offer and more.

But he’s just so good. “Stop,” he says, breathless. 

The hesitance is palpable. The strain in his voice. You know he wants you, can see the growing erection pushing at the metallic zipper of his jeans from the other end of the couch. You know it’ll only take a little more convincing, a little more of the delicious chase…but you want the final decision to be his. You want him to need it, too.

So you relent.

You stand to your feet and move towards the staircase in the abandoned apartment. But when you step between his thighs, you linger. “Did you check for any books upstairs?”

He shakes his head. “No. Don’t think whoever lived here before were much the readin’ type.”

“Yeah, well…didn’t think you were much the reading type, either. But here you are.”

Joel shrugs. “Not much to do at the end of the world. Helps pass the time.”

You knock your knee against his playfully. “You even know how to read, old man?” He chuckles softly and it feels like a victory. “Never seen you in the library.”

He spreads his legs further to give you more room, settling into the couch with his head tilted back. You know he doesn’t mean to look that fucking good doing it, but he does. Taking up all that space, commanding without even trying. It makes your mouth water, makes your skin prickle in every spot he allows himself to look. And then he says lowly, “I’ve seen you.”

It gives you pause. Because if he’s seen you in the library back in Jackson but you haven’t seen him, it means he notices you. Even when you’re not out here alone, even when you’re not urging him to touch you, even when you’re not trying. A seductive smirk finds your lips. “You gotta crush on me or something, Mr. Miller?”

Joel scoffs and shakes his head, turning away from you to hide the redness on his face that has nothing to do with the heat.

You giggle softly and decide to grant him a little reprieve. “I’ll be back,” you say, escaping the growing tension and focusing instead on the task at hand. “If they don’t have books, maybe they have something else that could be useful. Clothes or shoes or batteries or something.”

It only takes a few minutes before you realize what he meant when he said the past inhabitants of the apartment don’t seem much like the reading type. There’s not a single bookshelf to be found. Nothing on the walls, nothing standing in the spare room. There are three computers, though. Not that they’re worth anything now. 

Still, you try your damndest to find something. Anything. You rifle through drawers and find nothing but a cracked and weathered bible, of which you have a thousand and one copies in Jackson.

The closest thing you find to a real book is a stack of magazines in the cluttered bathroom. All are covered in a thick layer of dust and most have images of sports cars on the front, but they’re worth grabbing, anyway. You’re sure Tommy or Greg or someone wouldn’t mind skimming through them, so you grab the whole stack and return downstairs to Joel. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when the magazine on the bottom of the stack tumbles from your hands. And it’s not a sports car on the front page.

Instead, it’s a woman all dressed up in leather. She wears platform boots that reach her knees, adorned with heavy silver buckles down the front. Even though you were born not long after the outbreak, you’re not oblivious. You know what pornography is, but you’ve never seen anything quite like this.

You pick it up and put it on the top of the pile.

When Joel sees the small stack in your hand he asks, “Anything good?”

“Mm. Not sure yet.” You set the pile onto the floor beside your pack, nestle back into your spot in the opposite corner of the couch, and flip open the magazine with the leather-clad woman on the front, reading the title aloud. “Have you ever heard of a porno mag named Dreadnought?” 

“What are you—is that—?”

“I’m just curious, Mr. Miller. Relax.” You lift your feet and put them back in his lap and discover he is anything but relaxed. You can feel the stiffness in his thighs even through the thick soles of your high-top sneakers.

“No, what? No, you shouldn’t—you should…”

You ignore his stuttering, flipping quickly through the pages. Most of them are filled with erotic images of women dressed similarly to the one on the front page. They each have a man in a curious, submissive position. But none of this interests you, none of it even surprises you, in truth.

Near the end of the magazine is where you find exactly what you’re looking for. The woman on the front page is in different outfits, one in leather, another in red lace. But it’s the third page of her feature where she’s completely naked. Her breasts are full and sit too high on her chest to be real, but they’re beautiful. Not for any reason other than those pretty silver barbells that are pierced through her nipples. 

You lean up, tucking your legs beneath yourself, and show Joel the image. “Was this common? You know, like…before?”

His face is red and you think maybe he’s forgotten how to speak. Because no words come out, he just sputters. “Is…what…which part—are you…I don’t—”

“I’ve never seen anyone with pierced nipples,” you interrupt. “That’s what I’m talking about. Was it common?”

He seems to find himself. “Uhm…no. Not really, I guess. Why do you ask?”

You shrug and find yourself leaning into his side, flipping to the next page. There’s another image of the woman, and though she’s back in that red lace again, you can see the piercings pushing against the thin fabric. “It’s pretty,” you say. “I like it. Do you think you could do something like that still?”

“Well, back then they had people who’d do that sorta thing professionally,” he says. “But as long as you’re careful, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”

You let it go, and the two of you ration what food you have left, deciding to head back to the commune within the next day or two. You fall asleep leaning up against him, head resting on his shoulder. And you know Joel doesn’t rest much outside of Jackson’s walls, always too worried about being found or threatened in some way. But halfway through the night, you wake covered in a thin layer of sweat, scorched by the warmth of his head against your belly.

At some point in your sleep, you’d shifted, laying on the couch on your back, and Joel must have followed you. His arms are wrapped around your waist and his torso covers your legs, body heat warming you to uncomfortable temperatures. 

But you don't dare move. Instead, you slide your fingers through the soft tendrils of his hair and scratch softly at his scalp, smiling in the dark as he moans in his sleep.

Your luck the following day is much better. You stumble upon an old strip mall, and inside there’s a small, indie bookstore. Joel picks through the science fiction section, stuffing his pack with everything he thinks might be interesting. He finds a few children’s books and pockets those, too, while you browse the romance section.

Half the books are crumbling dust in your hands and the others have so much water damage they’re hardly legible, but you pick up what you can. While you’re rifling through the horror books, stashing anything written by Stephen King or H.P. Lovecraft, Joel comes up behind you and says, “You really read that kinda thing?”

“What, scary stuff?”

He nods, takes the copy of Carrie from your hands, and flips it over. “Yeah. Ain’t we got enough horror out there already?” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “It’s not the same,” you explain. You flick the corner of the book in his hands and go back to browsing the shelves. “ This you can turn off,” you try to explain. “If you get too scared you can just close the book. Have you ever read anything scary before?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Try it one day,” you say. “The best time is in October, though. Under the sheets with a flashlight, scared out of your mind. It’s so good, Mr. Miller.” 

His jaw feathers as if there’s something he wants to say. But the words never pass his lips. He simply slips the book into your pack and remains silent as he watches you. 

It takes a while, but eventually, you’re satisfied with your haul. The day is still early, and so you say, “If we head back now we could save some time. Get home before dark tomorrow.”

To your surprise, he agrees with you. The extra weight of the books has you feeling sluggish an hour into your journey back home, but you persist. And even though it’s significantly less hot today than yesterday, at least once an hour Joel’s passing you his plastic bottle and urging you to drink water.

It’s a sweet gesture, in truth. Joel’s got this innate instinct to provide for others, you know. You’ve seen it a hundred times, the way he just silently takes care of the people he cares about. Ellie, Tommy, Maria, you. You’ve observed him for long enough to know that he’s a protector, a nurturer.

The only problem with Joel taking care of you is how much you like it. It makes you feel soft and gooey on the inside, producing sordid images in your brain of repaying the favor on your knees. You think about Joel’s big hands on you often—in your dreams, even. 

But…today is different because you can feel the weight of the magazine at the bottom of your pack. You can’t shake the image of the woman on the cover and that metal through her breasts, can’t get over how elegant and edgy and bewitching she looked. You begin to wonder how it would feel to have Joel touch you if you had the same body modification—would his calloused hands feel more intense, sensations heightened with the sensitivity? Would he be gentle and slow-moving? How soft would his tongue feel against your skin over the adornment? 

He seems to sense your distracted thoughts. “You okay? Seem quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer a little too quickly. “I’m just…just hot is all.”

Joel reaches behind him for his water bottle again but you shake your head. 

“No, no. Not like…not like that.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, and you can feel his eyes on the side of your face but you don’t have the energy to tease him about it. Not when you can’t stop thinking about his fucking hands. “Let's, uhm…let’s find someplace to rest for the night. Sun’s startin’ to set anyhow.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.” As long as you stay six feet away from him. As long as you can keep your godforsaken hands to yourself. As long as he doesn’t look at you too long or ask too many questions or grunt an answer.

You find yourself praying, hoping to keep yourself from any further embarrassment, hoping to fight off that ache that seems to have made a home inside your belly. You cross your fingers at your sides and hope God’s got a private channel open for young girls with an insatiable desire for rugged, older men. 

It feels like divine interference when you crest the hill of the street you're walking on to discover a run-down tattoo parlor. It still stands in perfect condition apart from the crumbling siding. Windows dirty but intact, door closed and stagnant.

A distraction will work.

And it looks sturdy enough to rest for the night. You know Joel will circle it a hundred times before he’s satisfied, but you think eventually he will be satisfied with it. “Didn’t people do piercings at tattoo shops, too?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, they did. At most of them, anyway.”

The thought seems to cross Joel’s mind the second you look at him. “Do you think I could…?”

“Maybe. Let’s see.” 

You follow behind him as he approaches the building. He uses his knife to wedge the door open, and the two of you wait and listen for any approaching sound. 

There’s nothing, though. Nothing but stale, empty air, and a whole lot of dust. You stick by his side for the first two rounds of inspection, as is your routine. But when he goes back in for a third, you decide to take a look around yourself. 

In the front of the parlor, there’s a big, circular desk that sits atop the black and white tiles on the floor. The walls are painted maroon, and there’s a neon yellow leather couch near the door. You can only assume it’s where people would sit to wait, but the leather is smooth beneath your fingers even after all this time sitting unoccupied.

There are six smaller rooms behind the desk, each set up similarly with a blackout curtain and a medical-looking chair in the very center. In one of the rooms, there’s a binder flipped open, and as you begin to turn the pages you realize it’s an art portfolio. 

For a moment, you wonder about the person who’d drawn all of these designs. How old were they when they drew them? Did they have tattoos themselves? Are they still alive, out there somewhere still creating art?

People in Jackson still get tattoos, you know. But not as often as you think it might have been before the outbreak. You trail your fingers lightly over the next page. It’s an image of a glass half-filled with amber liquid, some sloshing out of the side. Below it, the words Tennessee Whiskey are written in cursive.

“Should be good.” His voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. When you turn to face him, Joel’s got his rifle slung over one shoulder and he’s leaning against the doorframe, curtain pushed to the side. “Help me barricade the door?”

The two of you spend the next ten minutes moving furniture around the parlor, setting it all in front of the entrance. It’ll be harder to leave in the morning, you know. But you know, too, that a barricade like this means that Joel’s feeling too exhausted to spend another night pacing and you’re happy to give him the assurance of safety he needs. 

When you’re done, he spreads out on the leather couch and you put your pack beside his. “Joel?”

He turns just his head to look at you.

You sift through the books in your pack and reach towards the bottom, pulling out the magazine that’s plagued your every waking thought. “I’m going to pierce my nipples, I think.”

For several seconds, he doesn’t say a word in response. He just swallows hard and when his eyes leave yours, trailing down your neck, he squeezes them closed before they reach your chest. But you know, you know, even without any words, that he’s thinking about it. That he’s thinking about you, forgetting his morals for a single second.

It isn’t until you stand to your feet and start towards the closed-off rooms, magazine in hand, that he finally speaks up.

“Be careful,” he says. “I don’t want you hurt.”

You smirk at him over your shoulder. “Is that the Mr. Miller version of saying, I care about your tits?”

He snorts incredulously, but a chuckle follows shortly after, erasing all of your earlier embarrassment.

It doesn’t take you long to find the materials you need. In one of the cases you pry open with your knife, you choose two matching silver barbells with dainty, white diamonds on each end. You use a cloth to clean off a tall mirror in one of the rooms, and there’s a bottle of isopropyl alcohol that you use to disinfect both a steel surgical tray and your hands. 

You discard your shirt and bra, laying them in the chair in the middle of the room, and flip the magazine open to further observe the woman in the image. Thankfully, you find a drawer full of individually packaged needles and take out several just in case. 

Sterilizing your hands with the alcohol again, you align the jewelry over your nipple, inspecting the placement and maneuvering it until you’re satisfied. You rip open one of the packaged needles with your teeth and sterilize it too for good measure.

Carefully, you orient the needle just right, inhale until your lungs ache, and when you exhale—

“God fucking dammit!”

You can hear his footsteps before the sound of his rifle, and then comes his voice. “You alright? What happened?”

Your exhale is somehow shakier than your hands. “I’m okay, Joel,” you say quickly. You knew it was going to hurt, you’re literally piercing a needle through your flesh. But you didn’t expect it to be so excruciating. It stings even now with the needle pushed through, completely still.

He stands in the doorway, rifle lowered and pointed at the ground. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him glance around the room, looking at everything but you. “Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t. This could be dangerous, you can wait until we’re back home and—”

“And have someone else pierce my nipples? Yeah, Joel, I’m good on all that.” You pick the jewelry up, sterilize it again, and breathe slowly as you push it through. This part, while uncomfortable, is a world easier than the piercing itself.

You twist on the tiny diamond ball at the end of the barbell and admire your work. It’s perfectly straight, much to your surprise. And though it’s just a small change, it makes you feel as entrancing as the woman in the magazine. 

There’s no blood, which you take as a good sign. And as the seconds tick by the pain subsides and is replaced with a dull throbbing instead. It hurts, but it’s bearable. The only problem is that as you try to line up the second needle, your hands tremble too much to keep it straight.

Even though you try to take deep breaths, try to shake the tremors from your hand, nothing works. And you can’t just have one, can’t just leave this task unfinished, and so you gather your courage and turn fully towards him. “Joel? I need your help.”

You’ve never seen him quite like this, you think. There’s no flush to his face, no chagrin or hesitance or resistance. All of his morality seems to be replaced with a dark desire, a need unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. 

Immediately you know this is the Joel Miller he’s tried so hard to hide from you. Only glimpses of this terrifying man have slipped through the facade, each one smothered quickly by restraint.

Yet here he stands, hungry eyes swallowing you up, tracing the outline of the jewelry without remorse.

“I can’t…my hands are shaky. I need you to do the other one.” 

His hands twitch at his sides. And even though you now know he longs to touch you just as much as you want to touch him, his words tell an entirely different story. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “It’s not…it’s not right. Shouldn’t even be seein’ you like this. Too…too young. Too sweet.”

The southern accent in his voice is thicker now than you’ve ever heard it. Deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. “Please, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes snap up to meet yours. He pins you with that intense stare of his and you suddenly can’t move, can’t breathe. Flickering flames gather low in your belly.

“I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll just stand here. I just need you to…to push the needle through. That’s all.” 

It takes him a second, but he nods. “Alright…alright. I, uhm…okay. Yeah.” He nears you slowly and you feel crowded. You can smell the salt and sweat of his skin, can feel that warmth even though he doesn’t yet touch you.

You pour the alcohol over his hands and hand him another packaged needle. “Here,” you say. “Just do it as straight as you can, and once the needle’s in I can do the rest.”

Joel peels apart the packaging and takes the needle between his fingers. He discards the plastic and you can hear each of his ragged breaths echo in your ears. Slowly, experimentally, he reaches out and presses his fingertips just below your ribcage and it makes you moan. 

He pulls away immediately as if he’d been burned by your skin. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Hold on.” You try again to catch your breath to no avail. “Let me close my eyes. I’m sorry.”

Joel nods, jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth. But you do as you say, closing your eyes and trying to convince yourself it’s not Joel touching you. It’s someone else. The same person who drew everything in that portfolio.

But when he does touch you again, his hands are warm and calloused and big and familiar. You know it’s Joel. Your Joel. The brooding man of few words. The too-good man who cares about you, who lets you sleep even though he never does, who gives you his water to guarantee you stay hydrated.

His hand moves upwards, palm pressed flat against your ribcage. It stops just below your breast as if he’s feeling the weight of it in his hand and you wonder if he can feel the hammering of your heart behind your sternum, too.

You don’t have time to think about it for long, though. Because his thumb slides across your nipple, hardening it into a peak, and all you can think about is the fact that he’s touching you. He’s touching you and you want more, want to feel him on every inch of your skin.

This time you’re able to hold back your moan, but only barely. It’s more like a whimper that gets caught in your throat instead. But he doesn’t pull away, and soon his other hand joins in. “Should I…uhm,” he clears his throat. “Should I count, or…?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just…just do it. Please.” The words are desperate for a whole new reason. Your hands tremble even more at your sides.

The biting cold of the steel reaches you before you feel the pain. You try to breathe through it but the second one is somehow even worse and obscenities fall from your lips at the agony. It hurts so badly that you don’t even register as Joel slides the jewelry through and screws the diamond onto the barbell.

Ultimately, it’s his voice that cuts through the fog.

“Hey, hey. Shh. Hey, c’mon. Finished. Look at me, pretty girl. Open your eyes.” You do because that thick, southern drawl is more enticing than anything you’ve ever heard. You’d follow it anywhere, you think. Do anything it asks. “There you go. Atta girl.”

His words make your mouth water. You want to taste them. Joel’s hands are still on you, holding your hips, pressing into the exposed flesh. It’s all you can think about until he turns you away from him, forcing you to look into the mirror on the wall. “Oh my God.”

It surprises you a little just how much you love them. It makes you look powerful, like you are the one who belongs in a magazine.

“They’re perfect, Joel.”

“Did it hurt too bad?”

The question is so insane that it makes you laugh. “Are you kidding? It was awful. I don’t even know what to compare it to to try and explain it.”

He laughs too, a deep, throaty chuckle that brings a smile to your face. “Well, you have my sincere apologies, little lady.”

When you turn back to face him, you ask, “What do you think? Do they look good?”

You know you said you wouldn’t torture him, but the look on his face is so sweet that you can’t resist. “They’re real pretty,” he says. “They, uh…they suit you.”

“Think so?” You look up at him through your lashes, trying your damndest to look as desperate for him as you are. “Hurts a little,” you tell him, pressing your thumb gently over the center of your nipple, the one you’d pierced on your own. “Right here.”

He sees right through your false pretenses. You watch him swallow, watch his eyes darken. “Careful, little girl,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

The name makes you squirm beneath his catastrophic gaze, thighs pressing together. He catches the movement—and you realize you want to be anything but careful with this terrifying, powerful man. Of course, you don’t heed his warning. “Might help if you kiss it better, you know.”

“S’that right?” You nod and a sinful smirk pulls at the corners of his full lips. He leans down and you can feel the scruff of his beard brushing the side of your face. Against your ear, he whispers, “You don’t know what you’re askin’ for, sweetheart.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it, and yet you can’t fucking resist. You’ve never been able to resist him. “Then show me.”

And just like that, his resolve withers. The cord snaps and the good Joel you know vanishes into thin air, leaving nothing but this hungry, desperate man behind. He grabs your waist and hauls you up against him, legs wrapping around his hips on instinct.

Your chest presses against his but the pressure is bliss, fighting off both the ache in your breasts and the one between your legs. He swipes everything off the metal table in the corner. Alcohol and needles and portfolio all crashing to the floor. 

Joel sets you atop it and his mouth hovers an inch above yours, breath fanning across your cheeks. “Last chance, little girl,” he says.

He’s giving you an out, you realize. One last opportunity to escape him. You lean up and press your lips tenderly to his instead.

It’s answer enough for him.

Joel’s mouth moves greedily against yours. One hand rests against the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other holds the nape of your neck. His tongue slips into your mouth. He tastes like honey and whiskey and sunlight. You could drown in it, you think. But Joel doesn’t linger for long. 

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, your chest—-and when he flicks his soft tongue across your nipple, your back arches and you forget how to breathe. 

“Joel,” you say, voice needy and desperate. “Touch me. Please touch me.”

His hands flex against your skin, still holding himself back. You don't understand—can’t he feel how much you want it? Can’t he see it on your face, in your eyes? “I want to,” he admits.

You grind your hips against his and the sensation of the bulge in his jeans against your center has you shaking. “What’s stopping you?”

A self-deprecating laugh bubbles out of his throat. He presses his forehead against yours, kisses the tip of your nose gently. “You make me crazy, pretty girl.” His hand comes around your throat, cradling your face. With the rough pad of his thumb, he traces the outline of your lips and says, “You make me feel like I’m eighteen again.” His hand travels lower, down your neck, knuckles dragging between your breasts. “Like I’m some little boy who gets a hard-on over a bra strap.” Lower, down your belly, between your ribs. “Or these fuckin’ shorts, baby.”

Everything aches for him. Every cell in your body has been lit aflame beneath his touch, longing to feel his hands, his tongue, to feel all of him. “Joel,” you say. “Please.”

He kisses a trail that follows the path of his hand, but this time he stalls at your breasts. “Sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg,” he mutters against your skin. And then he’s kissing and sucking and biting marks into the softness of your breast, leaving proof that he was here, evidence of his affection. “If I touch you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you to,” you say. “ I think about it all the time.” Your head falls back, hips rolling against his, seeking out any sort of friction you can find. “God—I dream about it. I want you inside me.”

His eyes darken as he looks up at you. 

A man of few words. This time it’s him who reaches for the metallic button. He pops it open in one smooth movement, tongue lapping over the metal barbell through your nipple. You can feel each pass over the sensitive flesh down to your toes. 

He wriggles his hand into your shorts, deft fingers finding your clit easily. You let out a lewd moan at the commanding way he just takes —as if he’s right where he’s always supposed to be. Right where you want him, right where you’ve needed him for all these years. 

Joel kisses a path across your sternum, mouth giving the same tender care to the opposite breast. He slides his fingers through your wetness, gathering your slick and using it to circle your clit. “M’gonna take care of her, sweetheart,” he says. “Gonna make her feel real good, s’that alright with you?” 

His words are filthy and obscene and you love it. You’re nodding quickly and saying, “Yes,  Joel, yes.”

A cold shiver passes through you as he rises back to his full height, towering over you when he takes a step back. “Let’s get these off,” he says. Joel helps you shimmy both your shorts and your panties down your legs until you’re sitting there in front of him completely naked. He’s still completely dressed and it makes you feel small and minuscule beneath the weight of his predatory stare.

He places both hands on your thighs and pushes them apart, spreading you open. And then he drops to his knees and lazily strokes his fingers through your wet heat. You can feel the chill of his breath against your clit and your fingers find the outgrown tendrils of dark hair on instinct, trying to pull him closer, wiggling your hips to the very edge of the table.

“Needy girl, hm?” He laughs softly. It’s not malicious but rather adoring, and you wonder how it is that someone so strong and authoritative can make you feel powerful and cherished in the same breath. “S’okay. I’ve got ya.”

And then his tongue is on you and it feels like heaven. So much better than you’d ever imagined, ever dreamed. His scruff scratches at the inside of your thighs as he slides his tongue through your pussy. Joel groans against you like this is more for him, and the vibration of the sound pulls staccato moans from your mouth.

He slips two fingers into you easily, encountering no resistance. You’re too wet, too eager to have him inside you. You whimper his name as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hands pulling tight in his hair. It feels so good it’s almost too much—but he seems to know what you can take more than you do. 

Joel looks up at you from between your thighs and you can see the palpable hunger on his face. You think maybe he’s wanted this for longer than you, maybe he’s somehow been even more starved for this than you once thought.

You can feel your orgasm creep down your spine, inferno building and building, settling low in your belly. You try to tell him, to warn him—but then he hooks his fingers inside of you, pressing against that sweet spot and—

“Oh, God—God, fuck—Joel, I—!”

“S’alright, baby, go’head. Cum for me, oh—yeah, that’s it. There you go, sweetheart.” His voice is so gentle, a stark contrast to the assertive way he moves his hands, pulling from you everything your body can give. The southern accent is thick as he talks you through it. “Feels so much better now, huh? Y’look so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. So pretty when you’re all full’a me.”

Your thighs tremble even as you begin to come down, trying to catch your breath, holding onto his arms to ground yourself as he stands back to his feet, thick cords of muscle sturdy beneath your shaking hands. And he’s right—it does feel better now, but as he eases his fingers out of you and you watch him lick them clean, your pussy clenches at the sight. It’s better, it is… but when it comes to good and moral Joel Miller you are insatiable.

A deep, rumbling groan reverberates in his chest when you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. Your slick stains the bulge in his jeans, darkening the denim material. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, big hands running slowly up and down your smooth thighs. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this…shouldn’t be takin’ advantage of you. Such a little thing, don’t know what you want.”

The answer comes quickly. “You, Joel. I want you.”

You reach for his belt and he watches your nimble fingers undo it, pulling the leather through the metal fastening. He hisses when you reach into his jeans and pull him out. 

He’s bigger than you thought, and wrapping your hand around him completely is a troubling task. You’re not sure he’ll even fit but it makes your mouth water, makes your swollen clit pulse with need. “Please.”

“I can’t, baby. Believe me, I want it, too, but I…you’re too good for me. Too—” He stops when you slide the head of his cock through your pussy, coating him in your slick. You watch the movement together and this time it’s Joel’s hands that shake. He curses under his breath, admiring the way he fits so perfectly. 

“Just a little?” Your own voice is hardly recognizable in your own ears, needy and deprived. You slide his cock back up towards your clit and it catches at your entrance. You both gasp in tandem. You love Joel and all his goodness but right now you want the worst of him. You want all of him. 

He nods and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Okay…okay,” he says to himself. “Just a little. You sure? You’re positive you want—?”

You line him up and shift your hips forward, words fading into nothingness. It’s just a little like you promised, but the stretch is so delicious you find yourself wanting more. More, always more—you think you could die without it.

Joel pushes in further, a little less than halfway, and then pulls out slowly. He groans and you feel like crying. His cock is covered in your wetness and when he pushes back in you think this just might be enough to make you cum a second time. 

It’s filthy and obscene and you love it. You love him. He reaches down and circles your clit with his thumb, fucking you slowly, eyes locked on the place you’re joined. “You’re so big,” you whimper.

You can feel the tension in his shoulders and you do your damnedest to smooth it out with small, massaging motions. He touches you just right but you want it to feel good for him, too.

That heat of an orgasm begins to build again. A low, incessant thrum between your hips.

“I have to,” he mutters so softly you hardly hear him the first time. “I have to, baby. I’ve gotta feel you. I’ve gotta…” And then he eases his cock into you to the hilt without any warning, filling you so full it hurts. The invasion stings but your body adjusts quickly, making room for him in the same way your heart has. His head falls to the crook of your neck and you can feel him shudder as he breathes the word fuck into your skin. 

“Oh my God—it’s too much, too much—!”

“You can take it, baby. C’mon, spread your legs wider. I know s’alot,” he praises, circling your clit a little faster now. Your slick drips down your thighs, into the dark hair between his hips. “You got it, sweetheart. See? There you go.”

He pulls out just to sink into you again. This time there’s less pain and more divinity and your nails dig into his shoulder through his flannel as you adjust to the size of him.

Joel uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you deep. He sets an unrelenting pace, hips grinding against yours with each thrust. It’s so much and you’re so full of him in all the best ways. When you moan into his mouth you can feel his lips turn up at the corners, a predatory grin saved just for you. 

The sounds are filthy and echo in the room, an obscene symphony of devotion. You’d let him do anything right now—anything. 

He picks up the pace, hips snapping against yours. All you can think about is how right this feels, how you were made for him, how well he fits inside you.

A low grunt filters through his teeth and he says, “Fuck, baby. You look so pretty. How’s it feel? Tell me. Use your words.”

“S’good,” you whimper in response. Your brain is mush and your thighs become a vise around his waist, pulling him in impossibly deeper. “So good, Joel, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m—I’m close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum again already, hm?” He pushes his palm against your belly, thumb still gently stroking your clit. And the pressure of it feels so intense you let out a whine of bliss. “Yeah, you are,” he whispers. “Can feel her squeezin’ me. S’alright, baby. Wanna feel it.” 

His words send you tumbling over the edge of bliss, and he fucks you through it. Stars blind your vision and your ears fill with static. But you can hear Joel though, can hear him and feel him deep inside you through it all. 

“Ohh, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Pretty little thing’s just fuckin’ dripping all over me, feels so good. You feel so good.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, his rhythm falters. You can feel his cock pulse inside of you as Joel falls off the precipice. His head rolls back and the muscles in his forearms flex around the prominent veins. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you know you’ll never see anything as beautiful as this big, powerful man weak for you.

He’s panting when he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. Sweat dots his hairline and that flush on his neck certainly seems like it’s staying for a little while longer. He’s beautiful, you think. Crafted by the hands of God himself, made with imperfect grace.

When he looks up at you he smiles in the way he always does, like the two of you share a secret. And maybe now you do. A sinful, dirty secret that’s all yours. You laugh softly and he mirrors the sound, helping you back to your feet. 

You hold his shoulders for balance as he helps you back into your shorts. And when he hands you your bra and t-shirt, you’re starkly reminded of the dull throb in your breasts and think better of it before putting them on. “I think they might be too tight. I’ll look around and see if I can…”

Before you finish the sentence, he’s unbuttoning his red flannel and tossing it to you. He wears a light brown tshirt underneath, the arms just a little too tight on his biceps. He looks so good that you want to take him between your legs again even with the sweet ache that lingers. “Here,” he says. “Take this.”

You do. He helps you with the buttons and it’s too big but gives your new body modifications room to breathe and heal. You ask him how it looks. 

“Better on you,” is his short response.

When you begin to fall asleep on the yellow leather couch later that night, all wrapped up in his arms, Joel presses his lips to your forehead and says, “When we get home, I wanna read that book of yours. Carrie, was it?”

You shift at his side, turning your head up to look at him. “You’re not gonna wait till October, like I said?”

Joel shakes his head. “You got any idea how old I am, girl? I’ve got no time for waitin’ till October.” He’s quiet for several seconds. And then his voice is nothing but a whisper as he says, “No time waitin’ on this to be right in the eyes of others, either.” 

And you can feel the heat behind his words, can almost hear the unspoken meaning. No time for waiting until you’re older, no time for waiting until the perfect moment. Your mouth pulls into a wide grin. “Are you asking to go steady with me, Mr. Miller?”

With a scoff, he runs his hand playfully down your face and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. 

When he kisses you, you make a promise against his lips. “I’m yours, Joel.” 

He doesn’t say much in the way of a reply, your big man of few words. But he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

It’s more than enough.

[hoejosatoru]

Roster Hopper

Pairings: Fem!Reader x College Au Karasuno players (separately, except for Tsuki & Yamaguchi)

Summary: You make a bet with your best friend and co manager that you can sleep through the entire Karasuno roster, without the team finding out. 

Word Count: 8.4k

Warning: reader having sex with entire team lmfao, maybe reader is slightly manipulative at times? I don’t think so but tagging just incase, oral (fem receiving) in multiple different positions, light spanking, p in v sex in different positions, men whimpering lol, oral (male receiving), fingering, thumb in ass, squirting, spit, sorta voyeurism, threesome (Tsuki and Yams) virginity loss (Yams), semi public sex, brief drinking mention MDNI

A/n: Changed my original idea to just y/n trying to go through the roster bc you plus a friend is a lot and trying to write around the team not finding out would be hard SO here we are. Y/f/n = your friends name. I didn’t want to have to think of a random name. If you don’t have someone you can just slot in Kiyoko or something. I also bolded each players name so if you want to skip to a specific dude, hopefully it is easier to find. Enjoy!

“How long have they been at it?” you asked your friend as you were filling up water bottles for the third time this practice. If you weren’t so used to the sound of volleyballs being smacked around, it would probably have driven you crazy by now. It was your second year as Karasuno University’s volleyball team manager and you loved it. Water bottle fill up runs and all.

“Too long,” your friend replied, “I don’t get where they get the energy from. I’m tired just watching them.”

“Same.” You screwed the last bottle shut. “But the first years are really good. I think we have a shot this year.”

“Oh without a doubt,” y/f/n’s nodded. “And if they keep practicing like this they’ll only get better. They’re pretty cute too, not that is going to help them win games.”

You laughed. “I was waiting for your say something.” Your voice dropped a little, so none of the boys could overhear you. Not that they were really paying attention to either of you at the moment. Volleyball is life and all. “We have a really cute team, don’t you think?”

Your friend nodded and whispered back. “For sure. Who do you think is the cutest?” This is why you were glad you convinced your best friend to manage with you. Nothing passed time like gossiping about boys with a friend.

“Hmm,” you considered, “Kageyama is cute. But you know how I like dark haired guys. Nish too. Never thought I would think a short guy was so hot. Don’t tell him I said that.” You didn’t want to offend him, but you had a sneaking suspicion all he would care about was that you called him hot. Him and Tanaka were a bit girl-crazy. They were the only players that shameless flirted with you and your friend. You liked that about them; it was fun.

“No, for real! I think Asahi has to be the cutest though,” you friend replied. 

You nodded. They were all pretty good looking guys, so you couldn’t argue. “But the real question is, who do you think is the best in bed?”

Your friend took a second to think about it before answering. “Daichi.”

“Really?”

Your friend shrugged. “I mean he’s one of the oldest, so he’s probably got experience. Plus he’s the captain.”

You snorted. “What does being captain of a volleyball have to do with being good in bed?”

Your friend huffed in faux annoyance. “Well it makes sense in my head. Who do you think then?”

“Honestly maybe Nishinoya.”

“I think you just have a crush on him.”

“Shut up. But also Sugawara. It’s the quiet ones you gotta look out for, you know?”

Your friend nodded. “Totally. Maybe we gotta hunt down their past hook ups and do a survey.” You both laughed, drawing the attention of Tanaka.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing!” You both answered in unison, before turning your back to the court to laugh more. As ridiculous as the conversation was, it sparked your curiosity. You couldn’t deny that you'd thought about hooking up with some of the players. You watched them run around and get sweaty for hours everyday, what else were you supposed to think about? You’d never actually done it, though, not wanting to ruin any friendships with the guys. They could be a rowdy bunch, but you did love them dearly. 

That, however, didn’t stop you from hatching a crazy idea. “What if we didn’t need other people to find out.”

Your friend’s eye brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I will do all the research,” you replied. She gave you a look that told you she still didn’t understand what you meant. “I sleep with all of them and then we’ll know who the best.”

Y/f/n looked at you like you were crazy. Which, to be fair, maybe you were. “You can’t be serious. All of them?”

“Well not at the same time,” you replied, like a smart ass. Your friend rolled her eyes. 

“Obviously. But that’s still crazy! There’s so many of them.”

“There’s not that many. Just nine of them. Give me the whole school year and I could do it,” you responded. 

“No way you can,” she replied. 

“Wanna bet?” You challenged.

“Absolutely,” your friend replied, “500 bucks says you can’t sleep through the team by the end of the school year.” Damn 500? But a big challenges calls for big stakes. 

“You're on.” You shook hands. “Now let’s figure out the rules.”

After a little discussion you both agreed that besides the obvious of having to get through the 9 players by the last day of school, they couldn’t find out about what was going on. If you were to tell them about the challenge, some of the players might do it just to help you. You had to get them in bed organically. Additionally, you couldn’t request certain sex acts. You both wanted to know how they tried to please women without any bias. If you started telling them what to do, it would mess with the data. Because this is super scientific, obviously.

Y/f/n allowed you one get out of jail free card if someone found out, but it had to be contained to the one person. If the whole team finds out, game over. You didn't need to provide any proof, but you did have to share your ranking with y/f/n at the end, which you were more than happy to. Any other issues that came up, you both agreed to figure out as needed. Simple enough.

“I’m not even going to bother asking you who you think will be the easiest,” your friend said. Both your eyes floated over to Nishinoya and Tanaka, making you both snicker. “But who do you think will be the hardest?”

“Daichi for sure,” you replied, “Doesn’t seem like he’s a hook up guy, but we’ll see. And Tsuki, just cause he can be a jerk.”

Your friend snickered. “He seems like the type who wants spank girls and make them call him daddy.”

You grinned. “I guess we will find out.”

A week later you were at party hosted at the team house. It was the perfect venue to make your first move. Only the upperclassmen could live in the house, but during parties the whole team plus many others were invited. Tonight’s party was particularly crowded, being that it was still early in the year and most people didn’t have much work to do yet. The crowd would make it easier for you to sneak away unnoticed, even with other teammates around.

You set your sights on Nishinoya first. You figured he’d be easy to get in bed, plus maybe you did have a little crush on him. You were super keen on finding out how he was in bed. Maybe it was because of the drink you had, but you were feeling bold. You decided to take a super straight forward, simple approach with Noya.

“Noya, do you want to have sex with me?” you asked when you managed to pull him to a private corner of the party. You almost laughed at how his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Are you serious? Tanaka didn’t, but you up to this as a joke, did he?” he asked.

“I promise he didn't,” you replied. “Just think you’re cute. Do you wanna?”

Nishinoya thought this was better than his birthday and winning nationals combined. “Fuck yes I do. When?”

You giggled at his enthusiasm. It was so endearing. “Right now?”

God he really was a lucky guy, he thought. “Fuck.” He chugged the rest of his beer for good measure. “Yeah let’s fucking do it.” You looked around to make sure no one was watching, before slipping up the stairs to his room. Luckily, his bedroom was on the second floor, which no one really came to. The parties stay in the basement or on the main floor, so you felt safe now that you made it up unnoticed.

The second he closed the door to his room, you pounced on him. You couldn’t help yourself. To be fair, it was very much a mutual pounce. Nishinoya kissed you eagerly, bordering on desperate, but in the best way. You pulled away, both of you breathing heavy.

“Before we do this, do you mind if this stay between us?” You asked, batting your eyes innocently at him. He was putty in your hands at this point; you knew he would agree to anything to get in your pants. “I don’t want it to be weird if the other guys found out.”

“Of course, I won’t tell anybody,” he nodded. You were back to kissing him, very desperately now. You were still standing by his door, pulling clothing off each other. Instead of wasting two steps to get to the bed, Noya just spun your around and bent you over the dresser right there. He was not a patient man and you were not complaining. 

He slid your underwear odd, cursing. “Fuck you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to do this,” he cursed. You giggled, glad your crush had been reciprocated. Before you could get any words out, Noya was on his knees behind you, burying his face in your pussy. You gasped in surprised as he licked up your arousal, his tongue sliding through your puffy lips. 

“Fuck Noya!” you cried as he sucked on your clit. His hands massaged your thighs and ass, keeping you spread for him. He hummed and groaned into your cunt as he ate you out, clearly enjoying it very much. Much like when he kissed you, it was eager and desperate and so fucking good. It didn’t take long before you were cumming all over his tongue.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gushed, wiping your release off his face. He dug a condom out of the top dresser drawn, grinning eagerly at you.

“And you’re so fucking good at that,” you replied.

“I’m even better at this,” he replied, sinking his cock into you. Your body arched, surprised by the stretch. Noya’s thrusts were rough and frantic, clearly chasing after his high. He gripped your ass tightly, giving it a few smacks, but nothing too hard. You pressed your body back against him, loving that he wasn’t afraid to go for it. Your fingers scratched along the wood of his dresser as you tried desperately to hold on.

It was no use, though. Within minutes you were moaning his name and cumming on his cock. Noya, who was overjoyed he didn’t bust the second his slid in, let himself go the second he felt your velvety walls clench around him.

“Fuck, y/n, so fucking good.” 

You gave Nishinoya a long thank you kiss before getting dressed. You agreed to go down first and then he’d come down a few minutes later so it wouldn’t be obvious you were together. You left his room grinning. And just like that, one was crossed off the list.

A week later you decided to try your luck again. Tanaka mentioned he was going to check out a frat party and you asked for a ride there, which he happily agreed to. As far as you knew no one else on the team was going to this party, so it would be the perfect opportunity to cross him off the list.

The party sucked; it was way too crowded and the music choices were awful. Not to mention, the house was a mess. It made the volleyball house look spotless in comparison. It worked in your favor, though, as Tanaka was more than happy to take you up on your suggestion to chill in his car.

“Dude I thought frat parties were supposed to be the best,” he said, closing the car door behind him.

“Did you see the bathroom? That shit had to be a biohazard,” you replied. 

Tanaka laughed and nodded. “So gross. Sorry I dragged you here.”

“No worries, I wanted to,” you replied. You gave him a faux shy look. “I just wanted to hangout with you, honestly.”

Tanaka perked up. “Really?”

“Really.” And since being so honest worked the first time, you figure why not just go for it again. “Would it be weird if I said I was trying to get in your pants.”

Tanaka blinked at you, certain he didn’t hear you right. “You wanna get in my pants?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head. “No that’s a good thing! A great thing.” 

“So...” your eyes flicked down to his lap. “Can I?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?” you replied. “We are in a dark spot. Your windows are tinted. No one will see.” You leaned in a little further, letting him peek down your shirt. “It will be fun, don’t you think?”

Tanaka did not need any convincing. Fucking his hot manager in his car? He may have dreamed about this exact scenario. Literally. Tanaka pushed back his seat as far as it would go and helped you climb on top. The way he kissed you was so similar to Noya you had to bite back a laugh.

You wasted no time pulling your top off, which Tanaka was very happy about. His face was in your tits before you could even get your shirt fully off. He sucked at the sensitive skin, flicking your nipples with his tongue. His hands gripped your tits roughly, but not unpleasantly. You rocked your hips against his,  letting out a hum of pleasure. Tanaka was already hard underneath you.

“I could die happy right now,” he mumbled against your tits, making you laugh.

“At least fuck me first,” you replied, half joking. But also half serious because you were on a mission. 

Tanaka took that as instruction. “Shit, I got you.” He pulled his cock out of his pants then cursed. “I don’t have a condom.” 

“Don’t worry, I brought one.” You fished it out of your purse and handed it over.

“Damn you really were trying to get in my pants huh?”

You smiled. “Maybe.” 

Tanaka rolled the condom on, then pushed your skirt up and underwear to the side. He let his tip run through the slick before slowly pressing into you. He hissed a little, feeling your pussy suck him in. Once he was all the way in, you pressed your hands against his chested and rolled your hips. 

“Fuck, just like that,” Tanaka groaned, watching where his cock disappeared inside you. His hands ran along your hips and ass, helping you rock yourself on him. He leaned in, continuing to suck on your tits. The car windows fogged, the small space filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his cock thrusting into your wet pussy.

Tanaka wasn’t one to make the woman do all the work, so he planted his feet on the car floor bucked his hips up to meet yours. The deep spot he hit made your head fall back. “Tana-nngh-” your words were cut off by a cry of pleasure. You creamed around him, setting him over the edge. He spilled into the condom while groaning into your chest.

“Tanaka, can you do something for me?” you asked once you caught your breath. He was still buried inside you.

“I’d do anything you ask me right now, not gonna lie,” He replied. 

You laughed, even though he wasn’t joking. “Don’t tell anyone we hooked up. I just don’t want the other guys judging me, you know?”

“It’s in the vault,” Tanaka replied seriously. “And if you ever want to do that again, please call me.”

Two down, seven to go.

Your next opportunity didn’t come until about a month later. You were alone with Asahi in the library studying for midterms coming up. “I need a break,” Asahi sighed, pushing his books away from him.

There was your opening. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” You replied. “My roommate is away right now. Wanna go back to my dorm and watch a movie?” You gave him a look that hinted that maybe it wasn’t just a movie on your mind.

Asahi blushed. “I-I don’t want to intrude.”

You waved him off. “You won’t be. C’mon it will be fun.” With that, you both packed up your things and headed to your dorm. You told Asahi he could sit on your bed while you set up the movie. He sat on the edge of your bed, looking a little nervous. It made you laugh that such a large, handsome man was easily flustered. “Relax, Asahi, you can lay down if you want.”

You hopped on the bed, laying down in front of him. You were in the spooning position, but not touching. You rectified that by slowing drifting closer to him. When your ass met his front, you wiggled as innocently as you possible could. You could feel Asahi shift nervously, though he unmistakably pressed closer to you. It wasn’t long before you could feel something hard poking at your ass. 

“I can feel that, Asahi,” you teased.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I didn’t mean-”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, “I don’t mind.” You reached back, taking his hand in yours and leading it down into your leggings. “Maybe this will make you feel better.” You guided his hand to your pussy, letting him feel your wetness. He let out a low groan. You took your hand away, letting him touch you how he pleased.

“Do... do you want me to...” Asahi trailed off as he continued to play with your pussy. 

“I think you know what I want, Asahi,” you purred his name. He cursed into your hair, breathing in the sweet scent. He brushed it aside, kissing your neck a little. You titled your head, allowing him better access. Then you got needy, so you craned your head back, allowing you two to kiss. He a gentle kisser, sweet and passionate. His hand slid up your shirt, giving your breasts a few soft squeezes. “Do you have a condom?”

Asahi’s cheeks tinted but he nodded. “In my wallet, yeah.” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling the little foil out. You wiggled your ass agains him, urging him on. He slipped his cock out of his pants, rolling the condom on. His tip nudged at your aching hole. “You sure?”

“Please.” Asahi slid into you slowly, letting you adjust. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you to him while he thrusted into you. You arched your back, getting him deeper.

“Y-you feel good,” he mumbled against your neck. You quickly learned that Asahi was not shy about moaning. Hell, he was practically whining as your swirled your hips. He was so close to your ear, the sound giving you goose bumps. It was fucking hot. When he slid his hand down and started rubbing your clit it was your tone to moan.

“Asahi don’t stop,” you said breathlessly. 

“Fuck I think I’m gonna-” His voice broke off in a low groan as you felt his cock twitch inside you. He didn’t stop fucking you even as he came, which pushed you over the edge. A warm rush filled your body as you finished. You finally turned around, giving him a soft peck. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Don’t be silly, I really enjoyed it,” you assure him. “But if it’s okay with you, let’s not tell anyone we did this. You know how the guys are. If they found out...”

Asahi nodded in agreement. He definitely didn’t need his teammates knowing he came quick. “I promise I won’t tell.”

A few days later, you were sitting in practice, reflecting on how your strategy to get through the 6 guys left. It was half way through the first semester and you only had 3 done. You weren’t too concerned yet, but you knew you couldn’t keep letting so much time pass between each guy. You were so deep in thought that you didn’t notice Tsukki come up beside you.

“I know what you’re up to.”

You startled, giving him a confused look. “Huh?” 

“You’ve been hooking up with the guys on the team.” It wasn’t a question.

You tried to keep your voice even, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tsukki rolled his eyes. “Don’t play stupid. I saw you leave the library with Asahi last week. Then earlier in the semester you were sneaking around parties with Noya and Tanaka.”

You raised a brow. “You stalking me or something?”

“We are in the same friend group at a small university, it’s not that hard to put together. If you have half a brain at least,” Tsukki replied. “I just don’t understand why.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Your back was to the wall, you had to tell him. “It’s for a bet. To see if I can hook up with the entire team by the end of the year.” It felt stupid saying it out loud, especially with Tsukki’s judgmental eyes watching you.

“So why are you hiding it? I’m sure these idiots would be more than happy to sleep with you for whatever reason,” Tsukki replied.

“I can’t it’s part of the rules,” you explained, “So if you tell anybody I’m totally fucked.”

“I’d say you’re already quite fucked,” Tsukki replied with a shit eating grin.

“Haha,” you replied dryly, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, don’t blow this for me.” He went to open his mouth but you cut him off. “And no blow job jokes.” His mouth shut, but you could see the gears turning.

“So you kinda owe me a favor, don’t you?”

“If you’re going to ask me to sleep with you, don’t bother. It’s already a part of the plan unfortunately,” you replied.

“Ouch,” he yawned. “But that’s not what am I asking. At least not exactly. I want a three way with Yamaguchi.”

You were shocked but also not at the request. You knew they were best friends, but they seemed like they would be completely different in bed. “Have you told Yams about me hooking up with the other guys?”

“No, I figured I’d keep my mouth shut until I had more information,” Tsukki replied. “But I’ve been trying to help Yams lose his virginity. This seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“Wow what a selfless friend you are,” you replied sardonically

Tsukki shrugged. “I can admit I want to try a three way for selfish reasons, too. What guy doesn’t.”

“And you think Yams wants to lose his virginity with you there?”

“Yeah, he’ll be less nervous. I promise I won’t tell him or anyone else about your stupid bet if you do this.” You agreed. Although Tsukki was annoying, you couldn’t deny that a 2 for 1 would help a lot. You just had to text your friend to make sure it was within the rules.

Y/f/n: hmm I think as long as neither of them no what it’s for, one three way can be allowed

Y/n: Tsukki knows. that asshole figured it out. I have to use my get out of jail card on him -_-

y/n: but Yams doesn’t know, Tsukki will make up some other story to tell him

y/f/n: As long as Tsukki doesn’t tell Yams and no one else finds out then I think it’s fine. Good luck with that lmao 

A week later you were in Tsukki and Yams’ shared dorm room. They’d pushed their beds together for the occasion, which was honestly quite funny. Tsukki looked almost bored and Yamaguchi looked nervous. Typical. 

One thing led to another and you were on their combined beds kissing Yamaguchi while Tsukki pulled your bottoms off. For his lack of experience, Yams was a good kisser. Definitely a little nervous, but sweet. You went at his pace, twisting your fingers through his hair making his breath catch.

“Watch this, Yamaguchi. You have to get her nice and wet before putting it in,” Tsukki told his friend. His fingers were rough and warm as he dragged them through your lips. He rubbed circles over your clit, making sure his friend knew that spot was very important. His long fingers easily slid inside you, pressing spots that were hard for you to reach. You let out a little gasp, which made him smirk. “Take over for me Yams, you gotta practice.” 

They swapped places, Tsukki slipping his cock out when he reached you. “Suck me off.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A please would be nice.”

Tsukki gave you a fake smile. “Please suck me off.” You didn't bother arguing, taking his cock in your mouth instead. He was annoyingly big. Maybe the biggest you had yet. Asahi may have been thicker, but Tsukki was definitely longer. You used your hand on his base while your lips and tongue focused on his tip. Meanwhile, Yams was getting the hang of fingering you. He copied Tsukki exactly, his whole face and chest flushed at the sight of your wet pussy sucking in his fingers. Your moan vibrated through Tsuki’s dick as he hit a sweet spot. 

“Fuck,” the blond cursed, pulling out of you. He didn’t want to cum just yet. “Move Yams, let me show you how to fuck her.”

Yamaguchi’s face flushed a deeper shade of red. “Okay.” Tsukki spread your legs  open after slipping a condom on. He pressed inside you slowly and you so badly did not what to gratify him with a moan, but you couldn’t help but let one slip.

“Sh-should I put it in her mouth?” Yams asked. 

Tsukki shook his head. “You won’t last. You need to be hard so you can fuck her.” Yams nodded, watching his friend roll his hips into you. “I’ll make her cum so she’ll be nice and sensitive when it’s your turn.” Tsukki rocked his hips against yours, holding your thighs wide open for him. You hated to admit it, but it did feel really good. His cock, like his fingers, hit spots deep inside you. His thrusts were surprisingly heavy for his thinner frame. A damn near devious smily spread across his face as he felt your pussy clenching around him. He rubbed your clit with quick circles, finishing you off.

“Fuck!” you cried, your head falling back on the pillow. Pleasure pulsed through you as Tsukki fucked you through your high. He pulled himself out of you with a hiss, stopping himself from finishing. He wanted to do that in your mouth. 

“Your turn Yams.” Tsukki yanked his friend down between your legs. Yams cock ached as he look at your fucked out expression. He couldn’t believe he was going to lose his virginity to the hot older manager. He said a silent prayer that he didn’t cum the second he put it in. 

You sensed his nerves and comforted him. “Don’t worry, Yams, you’ll do good. Let me.” You took the condom out of his shaking hands and rolled it onto him. He whimpered a little, sensitive to even your touch. “Whenever you’re ready, yeah?”

He nodded, holding your thighs like Tsukki did and slowly pressed inside you. He slid in easily, thanks to Tsukki. He let out a whine feeling your warm, wet walls squeeze him. He tried not to focus to hard on that as he rolled his hips into you. You were extra sensitive, just as Tsukki said, making each movement feel extra good.

“So good, Yamaguchi.” You had no problem encouraging the younger guy. You always thought he was sweet. “Doing so good.” Yams blushed and kept it going. 

“Now, where were we?” Tsukki asked, an obnoxious ring in his voice. You rolled your eyes at him but took his cock back in your mouth without protested. You took him deeper, urged on by how his composure cracked. Your tongue ran along the vein on the underside, making him curse. Yams continued to rut desperately into you, making you moan onto Tsukki. You emphasized the sound both for Yams’ confidences and to break down Tsukki. 

Tsukki used his free hands to play with your tits. He gave your nipples a hard squeeze, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made you cum again. Yams cried out your name, summing the second your walls pulsed around him. Tsukki’s hips twitched as your lips tightened, spilling into your mouth. Everyone was a panting mess by the end. 

“Thanks, y/n,” Yams said as you finished getting dressed. “And I won’t tell anybody, I swear.” You exchanged a look with Tsukki, who nodded a silent agreement that he would continue to keep his mouth shut. You couldn’t help but smile as you left; you were over halfway done.

You went the rest of that semester without crossing anyone else off the list. You were okay with that, though, since you were still on track. Your next opportunity came during the last week of the winter break. Practice had started again, but not everyone was back to campus yet meaning they were smaller. And meaning  Hinata was more desperate for someone to stay and throw him extra tosses.

“Sure Hinata, I’ll help you out,” you agreed. Everyone else had cleared out of the gym, glad to not be the one Hinata targeted. You tossed him for awhile, admiring the strength of the small first year. He was the biggest wildcard to you. You weren't sure if he was gonna be really good or really bad.

“Ugh, I need to get stronger,” Hinata grumbled after his last spike. It looked plenty strong to you, but it gave you an idea.

“I've heard increasing testosterone can make you stronger,” you replied, tossing up another ball for him.

“Really? How can I do that?” 

“Having is sex is one way.” Hinata dropped out of the air, the ball you tossed bonking him in the head. You laughed at the surprised look on his face.

“Sex?”

“Have you not heard of it?” you teased.

Hinata grumbled, “I have! I just didn’t know it could help like that.”

You shrugged. “That’s just what I’ve heard at least.” You took a step closer to Hinata, looking him in the eye. “We should give it a try.”

Hinata’s eyes widened. “Wait are you serious? Like right now?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it and see if your spike gets better.” You knew he couldn’t resist the offer, which he did not. Hinata practically pounced on you. Have sex with he pretty manager AND improve his spike? Sounds good to him. You were all over each other as you got down to the floor. Clothes flying off as you went. You weren’t sure why you felt so particularly excited, maybe it was the risk of getting  caught. All you knew is that you suddenly wanted Hinata badly. 

Hinata was just as eager with you, his hands all over you. His kisses were a little sloppy with need, but you loved it. Your tongues mixed slid your hands over his toned torso. Hinata bunched up his t shirt and put it under his head like pillow. He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you up his body. “Sit on my face?”

How could you say no to that. The second your pussy made contact with his mouth he was all over it. His tongue pressing into your soaked entrance, then his lips sucking your aching clit. You forgot yourself, rocking your hips against his face, though Hinata didn’t mind one bit. He loved how your plush thighs squeezed his face as you chased your high. 

It didn’t take long for it strike you, swift and strong as lightning. You bit down on your lip as your moaned his name, trying to not alert anyone who may be walking outside what was going on in the gym. Hinata lapped up every bit of release before you slid off him. In an instant he had you flipped over, with him now on top. 

“You taste good,” he grinned, his lips shining with your release. You pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on him. “I think I have a condom in my gym bag, give me a sec.” And he really meant ‘a sec.’ Hinata was back at one top of you in a flash, rolling a condom onto his hard length. You didn’t get how he was so damn fast.

You both let out content sighs as Hinata pressed into you. Hinata fucked you hard and fast. He just couldn’t hold himself back when he felt your velvety walls wrapped around him. You were not surprised by his energy in the slightest, but you were surprised by his strength.

“Nngh- Hinata! Right there,” you moaned. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him close to you. With just a few more heavy thrusts, your orgasm was milking his cock. Hinata’s head fell back while he filled the condom with his release. A mixture of a moan and a whine slipped from his parted lips. 

When you were both redressed, Hinata was already asking for a toss to see if worked. You couldn't help but laugh. Only Hinata would be thinking about volleyball after sex. You indulged him, tossing the ball, which he rocketed over the net.

“Holy shit! You were right y/n, that was so much better!’” Hinata beamed.

“I knew you could do it!” you replied, “But can I ask you not to tell anyone we just did that. If the other players found out, they may pester me to help them like that too.” Hinata agreed, happy to have his only little secret weapon for better spikes. 

6 down, 3 left.

A week or so later, Hinata and Kageyama were bickering in practice, as they do. However, Kageyama seemed more annoyed than usual, so you decided to check in with him after practice to make sure everything was okay.

“Oh, yeah Hinata’s just been... particularly annoying,” he replied, seeming oddly nervous. Or maybe uncomfortable.

“Particularly? What do you mean?”

Kageyama shifted. “Well, he's been bragging about hooking up with this girl...” You stiffened, wondering if Hinata spilled the beans.

“What about it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“I thought he was bull shitting at first because he wouldn’t tell me who it was. But then he started going into a gross amount of detail and I knew he wasn’t lying.” You let out a sigh of relief, which Kageyama misread. “I’m sorry that was probably weird to share.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Why does it bother you so much, though?”

Kageyama blushed a little. “Well, it’s kinda of embarrassing, but Hinata and I compete about everything. He’s hooked up with 4 girls this year and I’ve only 3.  I guess it’s kinda fucked up to compete over that.” No more fucked up then your own competition, you thought.

“Not at all,” you assured him, “Friends do shit like that all the time. I’m sure those girls would have hooked up with you both either way.” In your case with Hinata, you knew it was true. They were nice, good looking guys, who wouldn't want to? “Why don’t you tell Hinata you hooked up with someone else.”

“Lying would be so lame. If he realized, I’d never live it down,” Kageyama replied.

“Who said you had to lie?”

Kageyama’s brows furrowed then raised when he realized what you mean. “Are you saying...”

“I’m saying, we hook up and then you can tell Hinata you’re back to being tied without lying,” you finished for him. “We don’t have to tell anyone either. Hinata not telling you is the perfect excuse to not tell him. He won’t have to know it was a favor.”

“Seriously? Are you sure y/n? I didn’t tell you to make you feel like you had to,” Kageyama replied. He was trying to be polite but you could tell the wheels were already spinning in his head.

“I’m sure. I’d do it even if it wasn’t for a favor.” Kageyama blushed. 

“Thank you so much.” No, thank you, you thought.

And so a few days later you found yourself in Kageyama’s dorm, sitting on his lap with your back pressed to his front. An interesting request, but you didn’t deny it. And now you were very glad you didn’t

“Fuck Kageya- oh,” your voice was a strangled moan as he played with your pussy. His calloused fingers moved expertly over your most sensitive spots. You felt almost like his opponent. You could tell he was observing you closely, noting every spot that made you tick. The whines that escaped your lips meant he found the perfect pressure to rub your aching clit. Your hips bucking showed him the sweet spot inside you that drove you crazy.

“You like that?” it was more of a statement than a question, really. He knew you loved it. All you could do was nod. Kageyama had both of his arms wrapped around you from behind. His middle two fingers on one hand plunged into your pussy, pressing your g spot. The other hand rolling your clit, driving you crazy. 

If it didn’t feel so good, you’d almost be embarrassed at how fast you came. Kageyama felt it immediately, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers. You ground against him, his erection pressing into your ass. It made you both desperate for more.

“Need you,” you gasped, reaching back to give him a squeeze through his pants. Kageyama groaned deliciously before pulling his sweats down just enough to free himself. He was riding high from just making you cum and couldn’t wait to feel your walls squeezing him. After he rolled the condom on, he angled your hips back so he could slide in. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. Even better than he imagined. You couldn’t help but immediately start rolling your hips. Kageyama sat back a moment, watching you fuck yourself on his cock. He squeezed your hips and ass, keeping your rhythm steady as you rocked your hips. 

He spread your ass a little, a gasp escaping your lips as you feel him spit on you. You did not expect that from Kageyama. His thumb circled the tight rim of your ass before pressing inside.

You cried out something incoherent as the pleasure you felt heightened. Each roll of your hips felt extra intense, now that he occupied both holes. As if that wasn’t enough, Kageyama reached forward to toy with your clit again. Your body surged with pleasure as you squeezed around his cock and thumb. Even as your orgasm hit, the pleasure didn’t subside. If anything it was build and -

“Oh god,” you whine as a gush of release left you. The composure Kageyama had been holding crumbled at the sight. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came. Even lost in his own pleasure, he never faltered, letting you ride out your high completely. You didn’t move from his lap when you finished, not trusting your legs to hold you. “Holy shit Kageyama,” was all you could manage.

“Was that good?” This time the question sounded genuine. You almost laughed, as it sounded like how he asked the spikers if they liked his set.

“Very good.”

Two to go.

You debated saying fuck the whole competition and going back to Kageyama for seconds. It wasn’t against the rules, technically, but your competitive spirit kept you from straying from the goal. Besides you really wanted that $500. Still, you hadn’t pursued either Sugawara or Daichi yet, knowing you’d have to be careful with them. They weren't as easily... won over as the others. Little did you know, Sugawara had his sights set on you, 

“Hey, y/n, need any help?” he asked. You were in the team’s storage room, taking account of all the equipment. It was part of your job to make sure everything was in good shape and put in orders for more as needed. Normally, your friend and co-manager helped you with the task, but she was sick, leaving it to you.

“That would be great, if you don’t mind,” you replied. Sugawara joined in organizing and taking stock of everything. The two of you chatted easily as you worked. Sugawara was one of your favorite players on the team. He was incredible kind and you appreciated his sense of humor.

“Hey, y/n, have you ever had like a bucket list? Or something like that?” Sugawara asked. 

“Sure there’s a list of things I’d like to do,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well... I’ve always thought it would be fun to hook up with someone in the team room. I guess that makes me a stereotypical jock, huh?” 

You laughed. “Oh? So did you only offer to help in hopes of getting laid?”

“No I swear, I didn’t,” he laughed, “But this does look pretty bad now.” 

“It’s all good,” you replied, “I’d be happy to help.” If only he knew how much he was help you.

Suga smiled. “I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He pressed you agains the wall, gently, and kissed you. You welcomed his soft, warm lips. His kiss was sweet and soft, but there was a hunger behind it that made your stomach flip. The next thing you knew, Suga was on his knees.

“Can I?” his warm, brow eyes looking up at you pleadingly. You nodded and he hooked his fingers into your leggings sliding them off you. Suga put one leg over his shoulder, placing a soft kisses on your inner thigh. Once he’d teased you enough, he went for your pussy. He had a gentler approach, almost like making out with your cunt, but it still drove you wild.

“Suga,” you let out a content sigh. Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him further into you. Suga hummed approvingly, loving the pretty noises you made. Your leg went weak as Suga sucked on your clit, but his grip kept your firmly upright.

“Cum for me, pretty,” Suga murmured. With the flick of his tongue you did just that. Breathless moans fell from your lips as a warm surge of pleasure filled you.  The second you finished you were pulling Suga up to kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, kissing him deeply. Your hands went to his shorts, pulling at them. Suga chuckled at you. “Lemme.” 

He pulled a condom out of his pocket before slipping his cock out. You hugged him tightly as he pushed into you. Suga rocked into you slowly at first. You kissed his neck, murmuring how good it felt. Suga hooked his hand under your knee, pressing it up so he can get deeper. The angle urged a moan from you that made his cock ache. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasped into his neck. You dug your nails into him as you reached the limits of your sensitivity. He continued as he felt your pussy tightening around him. He was panting and moaning in your ear, a sound you could only describe as pretty.

“That’s it let go for me,” he urged. You couldn't help but comply, your body going slack as your second orgasm washed over you. Sugawara sounded even prettier when he was cumming. His hips stuttered as he released, holding you close. You held each other as you caught your breath.

“This will stay between us, right?” you asked.

Suga smiled. “It will be our little secret.”

Just one left.

It was spring break and the end of the school year was on the horizon. You had a lot of big assignments due at the end of the year, opting to stay on campus to get them done. You found out Daichi was doing the same, leaving him alone at the team house for a week. You knew this was probably your only shot.

You offered to work with him so he wouldn’t be alone at the house, which he happily accepted. You spent the days being each others moral support getting through your tough assignments and insuring the other person took breaks. It did help a lot, Daichi was good at keeping you on task and you were good at helping him not over stress himself. It was the last night of break and you both finally finished your assignments. The relief was palpable, but so was the tension. You got the sense that Daichi was flirting with you at times, but he was hard to read. You were anxious to finally finish your other assignment. You knew if it didn’t happen now, it probably wouldn’t at all. 

“So how should we celebrate?” you asked. You were sitting on this counter, swinging your legs idly. 

Daichi looked at you, catching something suggestive in your voice. “Sounds like you have an idea.” He held your gaze in a way that felt like an invitation.

“Well, I have been thinking about something...” you trailed off, smirking a little.

Daichi stepped closer to you. “Oh? And what is that?” 

You leaned forward slightly, which drew Daichi closer to you. “Might be easier to show you.”

“I hope you do.” He was standing between your leg then. There was only another beat of tense silence before you pulled him in. He gripped your hips, kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting Daichi control the kiss. “Wrap your legs around me.” When you did, Daichi lifted you off the counter.

He carried you to the bedroom, placing you gently on the bed. You continued to kiss as clothing came off. Daichi slipped his fingers between your legs, sliding them into your pussy. He pumped them into you, stretching your pussy and making it slick. “You want more?” he asked against your lips. 

You nodded and he pulled a condom out of his bedside table. He put it on positioned himself between your legs. Daichi was really thick, maybe thicker than Asahi. Even with him fingering you, it was a stretch. “Fuck you’re tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out. He kissed and sucked your tits as he snapped his hips against yours. Once you got used to it, the stretch felt good. Your hips bucked up to meet his, pressing him deeper inside you

“S’big,” you whimpered. Daichi pressed on your lower stomach, heightening the sensation of him inside you. His thumb went down to your clit, rubbing circles over it. Your back arched of the bed as a surge of pleasure seized you. Not just pleasure, pleasure and triumph. Your orgasm was heightened with the satisfaction of winning the bet. 

Daichi fucked you through your orgasm until his own took him over. He groaned into your, slowing his thrusts to enjoy every last moment.  He pulled out when you both finished, rolling over on the bed next to you. “Well I am significantly less stressed now.”

You laughed. “Same.” He had not idea how much stress he just took off your plate. “Would it be okay if we didn’t tell anyone, though? The guys on the team are kinda immature. If they found out...” You let him fill in the blanks of his teammates finding out he hooked up with the manager. He absolutely did not want that mess to happen.

“Absolutely. It stays between us.” 

Success.

A few days later you sat with your friend in your dorm filling her in and counting your cash. “I still can’t believe you did it.”

“I know, honestly I’m impressed with myself.”

“Okay but I have to know, how did they do?” You friend has asked you for details along the way, but you insisted on saving it for the end. 

“Let me preface this by saying they were all good, and I would hook up with any of them again,” you stated. You explained that Yams was last, mostly just because of his inexperience. You would, however, not mind being with him again one on one and really rocking his world. 

“You’re gonna scare the poor guy,” your friend commented.

You grinned, “I think he’d like it. Anyways...” In a surprising turn of events, Daichi was next.

“No way.”

“Yeah I mean it wasn’t bad, but he needs to do more foreplay,” you explained.

“Fair enough.” 

Next way Asahi, another surprisingly low 3rd year. You explained that he lost points for cumming quick, but the way he whimpered and moaned was hot so you couldn’t be that mad about it. Next came Tsuki, who you wished could be lower, but alas it was good. 

“And his dick was really big. Like the biggest on the team.”

Your friend laughed. “No wonder he’s so cocky.” 

Tanaka was next. A solid fuck, no complaints.

“He is super into boobs.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think anyone who’s ever met him coulda told you that.” 

Next was Suga. “He’s just like... so sweet dude. It was almost kinda romantic.”

“You really need to go on more real dates if you think fucking in the team storage closet is romantic.”

You laughed, “I swear it was! He was best of the third years by far.”

Next was Hinata. “You did WHAT in the gym?” your friend questioned.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Kinda crazy.”

“Very crazy. But please go on.”

“Unsurprisingly, he had tons of energy. But I was surprised by how good he was. I should’ve known better than to underestimate him.”

Next was Nishinoya. “He was so good. And so eager. I just know he’d be super fun in bed the more you get with him.”

“You sure it’s not your crush talking?”

“Shut up. This is all totally objective scientific work.”

“Wait... so does that mean... Kageyama?”

“Yes!” You told her about how he took you by surprise. That he was amazing with his hands and knew exactly how to work you up. And that he made you squirt.

“No fucking way.” 

“Believe me, I was shocked too.” 

You spent the rest of the night gossiping over the experiences and who you wanted to have a round 2 with.

A/n: this was kinda a convoluted idea and I didn’t really know how to end its lmao. But hope you enjoyed tysm for reading<3

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | h. jisung <3

a/n: oh boy do my jisung feels have me dizzy ! i love him so deeply and eternally it's ridiculous :,,,-) pics not mine <3

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.7k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!jisung x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

the year you’ll meet your soulmate, you receive a one-sentence description of how you’ll meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“jisung!” chan called from the entrance to the apartment, “you’ve got mail!”

jisung appeared with a confused expression, not able to recall any recent purchases that would result in a delivery. his confusion grew when he saw how bright and wide chan’s smile was. if he weren’t so sleepy from the nap, jisung probably would’ve put the pieces together as soon as he held the lavender envelope in his hand.

inside, there was a small piece of paper, with one sentence typed perfectly in the center: after a near-miss, they’ll recognize you by the sound of your voice.

chan shimmied his shoulders, “what does it say?”

jisung’s brain buffered, still not quite understanding what this was about. it clicked after the fifth or sixth time he read the sentence.

“how does this help me?” he groaned.

chan gently picked the fateful piece of paper from jisung’s hands and read it himself, “huh.”

jisung scoffed, “yeah.”

“at least it’s…..romantic?”

jisung’s unamused look was enough to make chan giggle, which allowed a smile to peek through jisung’s annoyance, “romantic, but an entirely unhelpful clue as to how i’m going to meet my soulmate.”

“ah come on jisung,” chan patted jisung's shoulder, “you’ve got the whole year to sort out what it means. let’s at least celebrate the fact that you’re meeting them within the next 12 months!”

though frustrated by the ambiguity of the letter, jisung could not deny the way he got an adrenaline rush at the thought of his soulmate becoming a part of his life soon. even if he couldn’t anticipate the circumstances of it happening, the inevitability of it changed his perspective on just about everything. the months passed, and the meaning behind the sentence never became clearer. but, by the time he could count the weeks until the year’s end on one hand, jisung couldn’t get the idea of love out of his head.

“jisung!” hyunjin laughed, “you’re making no sense right now!”

“what do you mean?!” jisung retorted, “is it really that crazy of a thing to say?”

seungmin joined hyunjin’s laughter, “yes, it really is that crazy. thinking of love so much while writing these songs must have melted your brain.”

jisung groaned, following behind his friends as they exited the clothing store, “i don’t even know why i’m arguing with you. neither of you have met your soulmates, so clearly you wouldn’t get it.”

“hey! you haven’t met yours either!” hyunjin frowned.

“even if we had, i doubt we’d agree with…whatever it is that you’re claiming,” seungmin made a face of disgust.

jisung’s eyes grew comically wide, “i’m not saying love is related to someone’s feet! i’m just saying, theoretically,” he used his hands to emphasize the fact it was hypothetical, “shouldn’t you know how to describe someone’s toes if you really, truly, deeply love them?” 

hyunjin grimaced. jisung gaped at his friends with desperation. a laugh burst into the air beside them and then wafted away, prompting seungmin to laugh.

“someone, a stranger, just laughed at your theory,” seungmin smirked, “now you’ll never convince me that it’s logical.”

jisung frowned. when he opened his mouth to make another argument, hyunjin shook his head and started walking to their building. this probably saved jisung from digging his grave even further, but it didn’t save him from overthinking the interaction. with each step, he felt a pang in his chest. it seemed unlikely, but what if that moment was the near-miss he’d waited for? he had been talking about love when they laughed at his statement. that had to be some kind of sign, right? 

jisung considered all the possibilities. by the time they made it back into the practice room, he convinced himself he was just desperate, grasping at straws for a sign. he never even saw who laughed, so he couldn’t be sure that they were laughing at what he said. in the end, jisung felt next to no hope and tons of embarrassment. maybe one day he could joke about this story with his soulmate. today, unfortunately, was not that day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you set your bag down, sighing in relief at the fact the day was over. 

you went about your evening routine, decompressing from work and listening to your favorite music. your workload was a bit stressful, so you were thankful that the day wasn’t particularly notable. if asked, you probably couldn’t describe anything about your day that stood out. seeing as your brain felt fried, you weren't going to complain about an uneventful day.

as you were getting ready for bed, you glanced at the lavender envelope on your nightstand. it sat there, carefully placed, for almost an entire year. every night you looked at it, trying to figure out any possible scenario that would match its narrative. nothing seemed to fit, not even your most imaginative scenarios. still, like clockwork, you picked up the envelope and traced your finger over the words inside: one day, they’ll make you laugh from a distance, and the next day they’ll confess their love.

you scoffed. sure, sometimes the fact that soulmates existed seemed too good to be true. but this? it felt like it was something that could only make sense in a romance movie, and a farfetched one at that. as you settled into bed, however, you remembered the only interesting thing that happened to you today. it was a fleeting moment, probably nothing special. yet you could hear the person’s voice so vividly, as though they were in the room with you. 

shouldn’t you know how to describe someone’s toes if you really, truly, deeply love them?

you laughed. whoever said that certainly had a mind of their own, which impressed you. still, you had a hard time imagining what would prompt that sentence. perhaps because of its ridiculousness, you wondered if that could be a sign. on the street, you had laughed–too loudly, you feared–when you heard them say it. you felt your heart rate rise, hopeful and excited.

you didn’t want to risk getting your heart broken like so many other times this year, though, so you ran over the situation again and again and again. you hadn’t even seen who posed that strange question. how could you know whether they were your soulmate? it wasn’t the first time a stranger made you laugh, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

you tried to convince yourself that you couldn’t trust the encounter to mean anything, despite how that person’s voice filled your mind as you drifted off to sleep. a part of you felt that you would hear that voice for the rest of your life, even if only in your memory. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the next day was not as lackluster, but not in a good way. at work, nothing seemed to go right: plans went awry, mistakes were abundant, and every meeting went over time. you sighed deeply when you stepped out of the office, and you sighed again when you checked the time. the only thing you’d been looking forward to was the walk home because there was the potential that you could run into the person behind the voice again. given how the day had gone and how late it was, deflation replaced the small hope that you had clung to all day.

still, you felt your body relaxing as your workplace grew farther and farther away in the distance behind you. there were fewer people around as the evening commute rush had come and gone. you appreciate that, if nothing else, this walk home had offered you peace and quiet.

at least, there had been peace and quiet until someone bumped into you.

“ah! oh my god! i’m so sorry!” 

the person stared at you with wide, flustered brown eyes. you held your hand up to signal that you were okay–and that they could take a breath–but something kept you from speaking. brow furrowed, you tried to figure out what seemed so familiar about this person in front of you.

“wait! you’re the love and toes person from yesterday, right?”

you looked at the stranger with amusement, and jisung’s jaw dropped. he grew more flustered and his ears turned bright red. the embarrassment was quickly balanced out by elation. jisung’s mind recited that frustrating, fateful sentence over and over, until he knew it had to be true.

“i’m in love with you.”

jisung internally kicked himself for that reply. thankfully, you spoke before he had to stumble through another apology.

realizing that this was the laughter to confession of love plotline you’d been waiting for all year, your face lit up, “so it is you. i was hoping there was a reason that i couldn’t get your voice out of my head last night.”

jisung blushed even harder, grinning all the same, “yeah! it’s me! and it’s you! wow!”

“i’m y/n,” you chuckled, charmed by jisung, “what’s your name?”

“jisung!” he answered quickly, “y/n…y/n…” he paused to appreciate how it felt to say your name, “i love your name!”

“well, jisung, i would hope so, given that you are apparently in love with me.”

jisung laughed, hiding his face in embarrassment. at least his soulmate had a sense of humor. he bit his tongue, both to prevent himself from saying something ridiculous again and to cherish the feeling of you being right in front of him after an eternity of waiting.

“sorry again for bumping into you,” jisung rubbed the back of his neck, smiling apologetically, “where are you headed?”

“it’s really okay. it kind of worked out in our favor,” you smiled, which made jisung's knees feel weak, “i’m on my way home from work now.”

“oh! nice! would you…uh…do you think…could i maybe walk you home?”

you felt your cheeks hurting from grinning so much at how endearing jisung was, “you want to walk me home?”

he nodded enthusiastically, “yes, please! i’d love to have a chance to memorize your voice the way you memorized mine.” 

your heart skipped a beat. maybe you were already in love with jisung too. 

unable to think of a reply that could match the sweetness of his answer, you turned your head in the direction of your home, “i live down this way. while we walk, would you mind explaining to me your toe-related claim about love?”

he groaned, “if i do, do you promise not to bring it up again?”

you giggled, stomach doing flips at the way his pace matched yours right away, “that depends on how good of an explanation it is.”

“i’ll take it!” 

jisung’s eyes sparkled as he spoke to you, and you knew that, regardless of the subject, you genuinely could listen to his voice for the rest of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[babygirl-riley]

Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷

In Sickness and Health

Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy

A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️

Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.

However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.

Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.

You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.

Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.

Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.

You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.

Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.

You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?

Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. “Love what’s wrong?”

You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”

Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”

You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”

Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.

Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.

You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”

“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”

You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”

Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”

You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.

Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.

“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”

You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.

With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.

You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.

The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.

You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”

“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”

That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.

[yourstrqly]

✰ LATE NIGHT'S DESIRE , O. PIASTRI

[ preview ] working as a mclaren strategist for years, the newest driver is the perfect candidate to satisfy your hunger — he does make it easy for you, coming to your door in the middle of the night.

[ tw ] smut, unprotected sex, dom!fem!reader, teeny tiny little bit of corruption kink, spit kink, inappropriate work relationship | gif by @princemick

[ a/n ] idk what this is but yeah slay or whatever bruh. Might write more smut about oscar, I'm really fixed on him rn + ITS MELBOURNE GP and in honor of that i had to write a little something

. minors do not read | masterlist .

The sight of the quiet, charmingly awkward Oscar makes your blood pump fastly though your veins as the desire within you grows. You know its wrong, having inappropriate thoughts about a co-worker, one that isn't as secure as you are on the team but you can't help yourself with it; the need to fuck whoever is handsome and new is strong enough to make you black out rules.

First you had Lando — he was eager to fuck you as you pleased, then you had to have Daniel, who mind you, wasn't as easy to get in your bed and he also wasn't to corrupt as he was the one to mirror your actions and pull some stuff. Sadly it ended rather fast with him getting a girlfriend. But you still have Lando every other month as the boy can't keep a girl around, making him fall regularly in your bed or wherever you are to fuck. It's not that fun anymore, quiet bland. The routine is always the same — first he'll finger you to get you wet enough and then you push him to whatever surface and take his cock. Afterwards you clean yourself, Lando already out of the door.

So, that brings you to Oscar.

He's fresh blood, newly single, and dear lord in heaven over the winter break he put on a lot more muscles, looking ridiculous strong, causing your pussy to flutter whenever you see him. You flirt with him quite often and you do see his brown eyes cloud with lust, but you want to take your time. There's no need to rush.

But the day comes.

Its Sunday night, hours after the race and celebrations of Oscar taking P3, when you hear knocks on the door of your hotel room. Reaching for your phone, the homescreen only shows a few messages from people you're currently not interested in responding. No Lando. Normally, he'd shot a text beforehand, so you're not sure of who is standing opposite the wooden door.

Breathing in, you swing your bare legs off the bed and walk across the room, opening the door. The sight greeting you leaves your mouth agape — Oscar's wearing an maroon satin shirt, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his thick fingers are two rings which you've never seen him wear but it suits him. He looks hot, even more so with his hair all toulouse and a curl glued to his forehead. It's an indicator that he is influenced by Lewis and Guanyu, both very fashionable drivers on the grid, and you could kiss them right now because Oscar has never looked this hot. He is but this is otherworldly.

"Everything alright, Oscar?", you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts and unintentionally pushing them up, presenting the man with your more than welcoming cleavage.

He can't help himself; his focus rests on the soft curves of your tits, the skin glistening under a sweat film the heat of middle east brings.

Clearing his throat, the Mclaren driver, sends you a dashing smile. "Yes, actually I've missed you at the celebration and was wondering if you—", he stops himself, cheeks flaming hotly.

"If I want?"

You can see the thoughts running around faster than the car on the track earlier. Must be hard to grasp whatever plagues his mind.

"I was wondering if you'd celebrate with me", he whispers, somewhat bashful which is endearing.

"Sure, let me throw on something else to wear, can't go out in this", you say, hands moving across your body to clarify your point; due to the heat you're only wearing some boxers and a flimsy babydoll top. Oscar gazes at you, shaking his head. "No, no, I mean celebrate in, you know . .", he stumbles over the words, blush now burning his ears too.

Oh. Oh.

To end his misery, you catch his wrists to pull him inside before hitting the door close with your foot and shove him against it.

For the first time you kiss him, all teeth and tongue, and its different from what you have imagined — his hands are rougher, caressing your lower back, creeping under the top to feel the warm skin of yours. Grabbing you by the hips, he sloths his dick against your stomach and grinds. He doesn't feel small, maybe even bigger than his teammate. In your imagination, he was softer yet he let you guide him to bed exactly like dream-oscar did and falls backwards on top of the cream coloured sheets, breath hitching in anticipation.

"Remove your clothes, baby."

You reach for the hem of your top as you command him, letting him stare at your tits while he steps out of his bottoms and throws the shirt in a corner. His milky smooth skin's glowing in the dim lighting a street lamp spends, and you see a map of freckles on his chest as well as a happy tail lending down to his beautiful cock.

Spitting in your hands, slander finger gently touch his length, causing Oscar's head to fall back, lips wide agape and you take the opportunity to spit in his mouth. "Shallow, Osc, be a good boy f'me, yeah?", you coe, hot breath fawning the auricle. He does, groaning lowly but its getting louder when you bring your legs on either side of his lap, left hand grabbing his cock and coating it in your wetness before probing the fat mushroom tip at your pussy, gliding down till every inch is inside you.

The feeling of his cock might aswell change everything; he's the biggest you've ever taken, scraping and burning you inner spongy walls deliciously as he kisses your cervix.

Fuck Lando, he doesn't have anything on Oscar.

"M so full, you're filling me up so good, baby", the praise let the man smile in a haze, far lost in how good you ride him. Your wet hole holds his grith snuggly as you fuck yourself on his cream coated length — his eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight of a white ring forming on the base of his dick, something he has never seen before, and it spurrs him on to grind his hips into yours, getting a worish wail out of you.

You fuck him till his abdomen thighten and he pumps you full of cum, that is oozing out of your desperately moving body, chasing your own orgasm. Oscar leans in, bitting on your pulse point. Then you fall over the edge, legs shaking as you still on top of him.

After catching your breath, you charmingly smirk at him before he grinds up in your fluttering hole — he's already getting hard again.

[pookietv]

soft anger | george clarke

i'm quite enjoying writing arguments with sweet resolves atm hehehehe so enjoy possessive george (bc i sure do yummy)

it was weird when your household became quiet, it barely ever happened. whether it was your music playing from the kitchen when you cooked or george yapping away to you or even the softer sounds of him recording in a different room, silence was not something that fell over yours and george's apartment often.

you and george were both more quiet angry types, a small argument of back and forth jabs, and then just bitten tongues until one of you finally broke the ice.

the problem with that? you and george were just about the most stubborn people on earth.

it had started as a silly thing. george had been a little jealous recently, which was fine, really. you tried your best to reassure him, make sure he knew you only wanted him and nothing could change that.

but that didn't mean you could completely eliminate the problem. the problem being a co-worker that george was dead set convinced had a crush on you.

"are you that blind that you can't see he wants to sleep with you?" george slyly mentioned as you went into the front room to grab something, and you rolled your eyes.

"george, it's getting pathetic now, he doesn't want to sleep with me," you said back, leaving the room as quickly as you had entered, hearing george's padding footsteps follow behind you.

"you haven't seen the way he looks at you, i mean jesus, he looks at you the way i look at you, it's not hard to tell," he retorted, the tone of his voice so reassured by his silly ideas.

you turned to face him, your usual widened eyes slightly narrowed as you huffed a little, facing the kitchen counter, back to him as you filled your waterbottle, not even dignifying this spat to stop you from doing what you had been doing anyway.

"george, stop it.” you said, your regular sweet tone slightly lower, and hardened. "you're being ridiculous."

you heard him scoff a little as you screwed the lid on your waterbottle, turning to face him.

"ridiculous? you think i'm ridiculous? you're stunning, course he fucking wants you,"

"so? it's not like he's going to sleep with me anyway, whether he wants to or not, so how is that my fault?" you bit back, his face slightly hardened now.

"what do you mean 'so'? what is so wrong about me being possessive and not wanting my girlfriend to be fantasized about in the work environment?" he said, his voice slightly risen in tone, a little louder.

"you're not being possessive you're suffocating me, for fucks sake george! i mean, what do you want me to do, quit work? never leave the house again in case anyone looks at me in a way you deem inappropriate?"

tension was thick in the air, the room almost seeming smaller, and warmer, the sound of the stupid kitchen clock ticking the only noise to be heard.

george's face was slightly reddened, his eyes narrowed, and his voice lower in a way that would be attractive if he wasn't being so damn infuriating. "don't act like i'm being unreasonable when he is literally drooling over you," he said, in an almost condesending tone.

"you're acting like i want or care about some random guys affection, like i'm begging for recognition and approval from strangers," you rolled your eyes once more, a slight click of your teeth followed, loud enough to make george's eyebrows furrow.

"you don't see it, it's... it's not about that," he said, his tone frustated, "or him, it's us!"

"us? we're fighting over some random co-worker that probably doesn't even know my fucking last name, george." you scoffed back, your tone matching his intensity.

"you're around him, all the time, and i can see how he sees you, and it makes me..." he trailed off slightly, exasperation apparent on his face.

"jealous?" you finished his sentence, voice dripped in sarcasm as his lips pulled inwards.

"no," he snapped back, "makes me feel like i can't protect you, like i'm not enough."

your face dropped for a moment, betraying a look of softened guilt. you knew what he meant, you knew he meant well and he wasn't trying to cut you off or suffocate you, but it had become like being smothered.

your tone was slightly more gentle, you didn't want to keep arguing, but you didn't know how the hell to make george see any of your point, "george, i love you, i have told you this a million times, it's you, i mean, i don't know what more-"

"prove it then," he said, his voice a more demanding tone, his glossed eyes hardened.

all the softness left your voice again, the tides you thought were changing rolled right back round.

"how am i supposed to do that? i can't change job because you think someone likes me, i can't change someone else's opinions of me, i mean what the fuck do you want me to do?" you bit back, the frustrated tone in your voice returned and evident.

george's jaw tightened a little, "i want you to trust me."

his voice was low, controlled, completely contrasted to his heated tone before, and his voice was almost wholly demanding if you didn't know him well enough to hear the slight vulnerability that bled through.

"i do trust you george, but trust is a two way thing." you said, words firm but tone softened, eyes glassed over slightly.

tense silence filled the room again, and you felt that familiar feeling, like the room was getting smaller.

"i'm gonna sleep in the spare room tonight, think we both need some sleep. get some rest, george. i'll see you in the morning," you said gently, unwilling to go through this cycle again as you were sure you'd either sob or rip your hair out, gently touching george's arm in a reassuring way as you walked past him, practically feeling his muscle melt for a moment.

"you don't like the spare room, you said it doesn't feel like your space," he said quietly.

he was right, it was george's recording room really with a bed in it incase anyone came to stay.

"i don't like the spare room, doesn't feel right. but i think a night alone will do both of us good, george." you said gently, your body turned back to him, stood in the middle of the hallway now, looking at him still stood in the kitchen.

"i'll take the spare room if you need space, i don't mind. you won't sleep if you're in the spare room." he said, his tone even and matter-of-factly.

"thank you, george. i'll see you in the morning. love you," you said softly, turning into yours and george's shared room.

you were a stickler for that sort of thing, no matter what argument or situation, always say love you. cause an argument didn't mean love was gone, it just meant there were issues that needed to be sorted.

you knew yourself you probably wouldn't sleep, even if you were in your room compared to the spare - you knew well enough yourself that you struggled to sleep without george.

so after a couple hours gone by, and against your better judgement, you gently opened the door to the spare room, seeing george laying on the bed, eyes tired but not asleep, head turning to you once he heard the door creak, sitting himself up slightly.

"can't sleep." you murmured into the dim room, and you saw his silhouette nod.

"me neither," he said gently, and the room was peaceful for a moment.

"i'm sorry, i just didn't wanna lose you." he said, breaking the silence, and you nodded softly, practically crawling into the space next to him. you felt his hands brush through your hair gently, you tiredly leaning into the touch.

"you're not gonna lose me, i've told you that." you said gently.

"i know. i'm just an idiot, that's all," he said, his voice slightly thick from not speaking for a while, and gentle in tone.

"i'm sorry too," you said, breaking the sound of your breathing and occasional creak of the not so comfy single bed, "i was being defensive, and a little angry."

george laughed gently, "i don't blame you. it's okay, lovie."

you lifted your head up slightly to look at him, and felt his head press gently against yours.

"we're being stupid," you whispered, and you saw his lips curve into a softened grin, "yeah, we are."

"okay, get your fat head off me and we can both come sleep in our room?" you teased gently, hearing george huff a little jokingly, but standing and following you instantly.

when morning came, yellow glow flitted through slight gaps in the curtain, making you stir slightly and reach for the other side of the bed for warmth, and instead met with an empty spot. you almost thought you had imagined making up with george in a wishful idea of a dream, until you woke a little more, smelling coffee and hearing gentle humming from the kitchen.

pulling a sweatshirt from the bedroom floor before being willing to leave the comfort of the bed, and into the cold apartment, you gently walked to the kitchen, greeted with george with his back to you.

"george?" you said gently, and you could almost feel him jump before he tutted you, a playful grin on his face.

"you weren't supposed to wake up! i'm supposed to bring it to you," he said, his voice gently teasing, and you giggled a slight bit, sitting yourself down on one of the stools of the breakfast bar bit of the kitchen, facing his back as he fiddled on the bench.

"you're sweet, but i'm sure i can manage whatever it is here," you joked back, watching him as he brought over a plate and a mug of coffee, placing it down in front of you.

"dippy eggs and soldiers," he said with a dopey grin, and you smiled up at him as he kissed you gently on the forehead, before you looked down at the plate, and george's attempt at breakfast.

"and these soldiers were... wounded in battle?" you teased slightly, but he rolled his eyes and shook his head as he moved his plate next to yours, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

"hey, respect the soldiers man," he said mock sternly.

[captainfern]

hey captain, it’s me again. I have come to repent from my sins by requesting your blessing with a jealous dbf!price that doesn’t like other “man” (aka boys) around you.

Thank you for your service captain 🫡

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Marigold pt. 3

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - what the request says but price shows you how jealous he is lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], jealous!price, possessive!price, unprotected piv, strong language

mmmmm look at that nose— yooooo what????? girl who said that oh my goddddd... 😏

a longer dbf!price fic will happen soon i’ve just got to start writing it LMAO

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Price never used to be a jealous man.

Past relationships came and went and he never found himself jealous if they spent time with other men, or had male co-workers or friends taking up a portion of their time.

It never bothered him, because he wasn't self-conscious. He knew that, at the end of the day, they'd come home to him.

But something changed within him. The past few months of building this secret relationship with you changed something within him.

Maybe it was the fact you were younger than him, thereby attracting younger men who, from knowledge, Price knew were total fuckheads. Or maybe it was the fact that you were just so nice— so polite, so smiley, such a good girl.

Upon re-evaluation, Price determined it was probably a mix of those two things.

The past week had been taking a toll on him. Watching the way you seemed to attract fucking idiots that fawned after you, showed off to you, all with the hopes of getting into your pants. Price knew you weren't dumb enough to let these morons get what they wanted, but the thought still made his jaw tick.

Today, especially, had him on the edge of his fucking seat. Not in excitement, or anticipation for anything. But because he was this close to ripping the trachea out of this guys throat beside you.

Price's best mate, your dad, invited some other friends around for a couple of drinks. They were mutual friends with Price, too, so he knew what he was expecting when two of them showed up. But he wasn't expecting one of them to bring their young adult son.

"This is Grayson," the friend introduced to your dad. "You don't mind that he came along, do you?"

"Of course not, mate. The more the merrier." Your dad said, offering Grayson a beer as everyone gravitated towards the living room, settling in on the couches there.

Not long after, you came home from work. Your eyes found Price's as soon as you walked through the door, and Price noticed the way your lips quirked at the corners, fighting a smile. Your dad was beckoning you into the living room before the smile could fully settle on your face.

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting on the couch across from Price, resting against the plush armrest. That cunt Grayson— stupid fucking name, anyway— sat beside you. Price saw how well the two of you hit it off. He saw how he made you smile with small joking remarks, how he kept you interested about whatever stupid fucking thing he was talking about. He made you smile, and nod, and laugh, and ask him more questions about his life.

The grasp Price had on his glass of whiskey was turning white-knuckled. If the force increased anymore, the tumbler would shatter.

Grayson dropped flirty remarks as the night progressed, your dad too engrossed in his own conversation to shield his daughter from the ridiculous amount of jokes and chat-up lines.

One thing that did stop Price from beating the shit out of Grayson in front of everyone was that you weren't flirting back. You were being nice, polite, but you shot down each one-liner with a cheeky quip, or a roll of your eyes. But, what pissed Price off was that Grayson, the dumb fuck, couldn't take the fucking hint.

"Hey, you want to come outside and get some fresh air?" Grayson asked you, already half off the couch.

"Um..." You hesitated, eyes flicking subtly over to Price.

He grit his teeth and shook his head, raising his tumbler of whiskey to his lips as he did so.

"Um... I'm okay for now." You said politely, smiling sweetly.

"Okay, no worries. I'll be outside if you change your mind." Grayson returned the smile, then left the room, heading for the front porch.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, avoiding Price's eyes. He was looking at you over the rim of his glass, and his stare was hot. So hot, you were starting to feel stuffy.

"I... I'm just going to pop outside..." You cleared your throat, telling your father.

"Alright, honey, see you soon." Your dad waved you off, not giving you much attention after that.

Ignoring Price's stare, you quickly shuffled across the room. You heard heavy footsteps behind you, and you tried not to squeal when you made it into the semi-seclusion of the entrance hall. You knew who it was.

You had a hand on the front door handle when Price's hand engulfed yours, pinning it there. His body pressed to yours, keeping your front pinned against the solid wood door. His chest heaved against your back, and you took a deep breath to try and soothe your nerves. It didn't help, since you could just smell him.

Price did much the same. He didn't even have to take a deep breath to smell your perfume, your shampoo, your everything. A smell he had grown obsessed with these past few months.

"Where're you going?" He asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Outside..." You whispered, flinching when a burst of laughter erupted from the living room, just metres away.

"Why?"

"Just... just to get some fresh air."

"Is that right?" The hand around yours squeezed gently. "No other reason?"

You shook your head, body growing warm at the closeness of the two of you.

Price hummed, sceptical.

"Do you not trust me?" You bit out, trying to keep your voice level.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I trust you," he said, other hand grabbing your hip and pushing your backside into his pelvis. "But I don't trust him."

With that, he let go of you and took a small step back. You felt like you could finally breathe again. You turned to face him, your back now leaning against the door.

"Are... you jealous, Price?"

Price cocked his heat, swiping his tongue over hit lower lip in thought, eyes locked to yours.

"Jealous...?" He whispered slowly as if he was tasting the word.

You waited for his reply, raising your eyebrows expectantly. "Mhm."

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head and finally breaking eye contact, looking at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at you, his smile faded.

"I am," he said simply. His tone was dark. "You wanna know why?"

You nodded, another loud spurt of laughter sounding from your living room. It made your eyes dart to the doorway briefly.

"Look at me." Price whispered.

You did.

"I'm jealous because I don't like little fuckheads like him thinking he has a chance with you," he said. "I don't like boys flirting with you. Talking to you like you're theirs. D'you understand that?"

You forced yourself to nod stiffly. Was it weird you were turned on by this conversation?

"So, if you want to go outside with him, sweetheart, then be my guest," Price gestured at the door. "But if you do, he won't be leaving here with working legs."

You gaped at him.

"Or a working cock, for that matter."

"Oh my god, Price." You whisper-yelled at him.

You pressed your thighs together, butterflies in your stomach. Was it sick that this was making you horny? You had so many questions for yourself at this point.

"So?" He implored casually, if he hadn't just threatened to turn off Grayson's fucking legs. "Are you going to go outside, or—?"

"Or what?" You whispered. It was meant to be challenging. But it probably sounded pathetic as the heat in your core increased.

"Or are you going to come upstairs?"

•º•

"Mmpf— mmm—"

"Shh, come on, sweetheart, quiet." Price cooed in your air, leaning over your back as he fucked you hard against your bed.

He had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your head into your pillows. His other hand was on your hip with a bruising hold, slamming your arse back onto him, ramming his cock into you over and over.

"Mmm— mhm—" You tried to speak to him. Tried to moan, tried to sob, tried anything.

But he continued to rut into you at an animalistic pace. The only sounds you could hear was the faint slapping of skin, and the subtle wet shlicks when his cock fucked deeper into your wet heat.

"You don't want Grayson hearing you, right?" Price whispered, dragging his teeth along the top of your spine. "You don't want him to hear how good you're getting fucked. Don't want him to hear how wet this cunt is and how fucking desperate it is for my cock. Do you, sweetheart?"

"Un-uhhmmm—" That was meant to be a no.

"S'what I thought," Price increased his pace, dragging his cock hard against your gummy walls, literally pounding you into your mattress. "You're— fuck— you're mine. No one else gets to hear your pretty sounds, or gets to fuck your pretty cunt, but— ah, fuck— me, yeah? Just... fucking... me."

Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust that hit that spot inside you perfectly, and your entire body shuddered as you came around him, crying into your pillows.

He continued to rut into you, grunting deep from his chest, his body curled atop yours while pinning you to your mattress. He cursed, muttering your name around a grunting moan as he came inside you. You whined at the sensation, your cunt clenching around him, milking his release. He groaned, kissing down your back before he pulled out. You felt yourself shiver at the emptiness.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked, gently flipping you onto your back, massaging up your sides.

"Mhm..." You hummed, blinking lazily at the ceiling.

He leaned over you and placed a couple of soft kisses to your mouth. "Was I too rough?"

"No, no, you were good," you reassured him. "Really good. I promise."

"Okay..." Price kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue running along the seam of your lips.

Before the kiss could progress further:

"Price, mate, you up there?" Came your dad's voice from the bottom of the stairs, and both you and Price froze.

Price cleared his throat, shouting back: "Yeah, mate. Just going to the bathroom!"

"Hurry up then! The game's about to start!"

Price shot you an apologetic look as he clambered off of you and began to dress hurriedly. You watched him from your bed.

"There's nothing to be jealous of, Price," you said suddenly, and he paused his actions of buckling his belt. "I only want you."

He grinned, sly, cocking his head. "That so?"

You nodded, smiling with your teeth snagged on your bottom lip in a gesture of bashfulness.

His grin grew while he threw his shirt on. "Good. I only want you, too."

"That so?" You mimicked him, and he chuckled, crossing the room.

He took your head in both of his hands and kissed you. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs when he pulled away.

"What am I going to do with you..." He tutted, shaking his head.

"A lot of things, hopefully."

"Fucking hell. You'll be the death of me, sweetheart."

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[absurdthirst]

Fireworks {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: Dirty talk, premature ejaculation, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum eating, riding, breast play, mentions of IUD, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, family planning

Comments: Seeing Frankie Morales again at the cookout thrown by your sister and her husband, you discover that you the crush you have on the Delta Force operators isn't as one sided as you previous thought.

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸HAPPY 4th of JULY!!!!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Ohhhhhhh say can you seeeeeeeeeee!” Loudly and off-key, Ben Miller shouts/sings the national anthem for only the hundredth time because it’s the only day he can get away with it. Fourth of July, the nation’s birthday and it either invokes ad nauseam tales of valor or over exuberant patriotism. In Benny, and the other members of Delta Force’s A Squadron, it’s both. A day to get rip roaring drunk, party like they might not live to see the next day and generally raise hell. “Give it a rest, Benny!” Frankie shouts over the music that is blaring through the outdoor speakers that Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia had set up in his little backyard oasis. “You sound like a cow giving birth!” He adds, laughing and taking another sip of his beer when the youngest of the Miller brothers shoots him double fingers.

Santi chuckles, “Maria’s sister will be arriving soon so you better be on your best behavior.” He warns and Frankie sits up a little. Ever since Pope introduced Frankie to you, he’s always had a crush. It’s ridiculous but he didn’t really get to make a move when you were busy being the maid of honor and he was the best man. So many people joked with him about getting you in his bed the next of the wedding but Frankie was a gentleman. What he doesn’t know is that you have a crush on him. Ever since you first set eyes on Frankie, you have been like a schoolgirl with a crush and it’s so bad your sister has teased you mercilessly. Your sister answers the door after you arrive with homemade cherry pie and apple pie in hand and she ushers you in. “Frankie is here.” She smirks and you roll your eyes, “it’s been like 2 years. He doesn’t like me like that.” You warn Maria who scoffs and sets the pies down. “Santi thinks he does.” You snort, “Santi just wanted his best friend to be his brother in law.” You raise your eyebrows and she huffs before guiding you outside to see the guys.

As soon as your name is said, Frankie’s head pops up, almost embarrassingly fast. Santiago catches it, but that’s because the bastard was watching him in anticipation. His eyes widen when he sees the flirty little sundress you are wearing, cock twitching in his shorts. Thankful he wasn’t just wearing swimming trunks like Benny was.

You greet each man, Tom over on the grill flipping burgers, until your eyes meet Frankie’s and your heart stutters. God, he’s so fucking handsome. “Hi Frankie.” You smile, trying to not show how flustered you are by the matching grins of your sister and brother in law make it clear that you’re not acting as cool as you want to. “Beer?” Santi offers and you nod, “Frankie, why don’t you get her a beer?” He asks his best friend, eyebrows raised slightly.

He knows what Pope is trying to do and he appreciates it while hating it at the same time. You’ve shown no interest in him, so why is he trying to push the two of you together? You seem nervous around him. “Come on, we’ll get you a good beer.” He promises, holding up his Corona with a lime wedged in the neck. “Not that Miller Lite shit the others are drinking.” Benny scoffs because the last beer Frankie had drank was a Miller and he had just switched to the Corona.

You chuckle and follow him into the kitchen where the beers are in ice to avoid the hot summer heat. You set down the pies you made and Frankie groans, “is that cherry pie?” He asks and you nod, “yeah. My grandma’s recipe.” You tell him and he leans down to smell it. “Fuck, that smells delicious.” His words make your stomach twist with arousal, imagining him between your thighs saying the exact same thing. He grabs a corona and opens it with ease, grabbing a slice of lime to shove in the top. “Thanks. Happy 4th. Thank you for your service.” You toast him with a soft smile, clinking your glass bottle with his after he grabs his drink.

He doesn’t really like when people just thank him for his service, but he feels proud when you say it. Maybe because you are more aware of what he does because of your sister. “It’s hard flying a helicopter and having women throw their panties at me because they don’t know the difference between rotary and fixed wing.” He jokes.

You giggle, hating how girlish you sound but that’s what he does to you. When he was Santi’s best man, you dreamed about him sweeping you off your feet on the wedding night, keeping to the tradition of the maid of honor and best man but he was a gentleman and that, you can’t deny, made you pout in disappointment. “I’m sure you struggle every day.” You mock jokingly before you try to push the lime into the beer but it’s too big.

He shrugs, not willing to comment on that because it would be disrespectful. “Haven’t found a keeper yet.” He admits, knowing the woman he really wants is completely out of his league. You are gorgeous, smart, funny, and responsible. No way you would fall for a trigger puller like him. “What about you? I was surprised when Maria said you were coming alone. Thought you were seeing someone, that it was serious.”

You frown, “seeing someone? I’ve been painfully single for way too long.” You snort and finally manage to push the lime into the beer. Frankie frowns, “I thought - your cousin Danielle told me you had a boyfriend and he was away on business during the wedding events?” Frankie tilts his head and it’s your turn to frown, “boyfriend? I - no. Why would - oh. I know why. She has a crush on you. Told us allll the time about how cute you are but why would she say I had a boyfriend?” You don’t put two and two together, annoyed at your cousin for lying about you.

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, putting two and two together. “I fucking know.” He growls. “Pope was busting my ass about making a move on you at the reception.” Frankie confesses, “she must have overheard the night of the cookout.” He remembers her being annoying and constantly ‘checking on them’ while the guys were outside. The bridal shower had been a family co-ed event for everyone. “She told me later that day.”

“Told you what?” You ask, stomach twisting that Pope was telling him to make a move. You wonder if he wants you like you want him or if he is being polite and he actually told Pope he wasn’t interested in you. “Told me that you had a boyfriend and she - she was interested in me.” You deflate at that, wondering if he hooked up with your cousin and that’s why he hasn’t made a move. You take a sip of your beer, “well, she’s beautiful.” You murmur, glancing down at your pies on the counter.

“But she’s annoying as shit.” Frankie snorts. “No offense.” He adds because she is your cousin. He takes a sip of his beer. “I told her that I wasn’t interested, because I’m not.” Frankie doesn’t like to play around with that shit, because he knows how stressful his job is in a relationship and he doesn’t toy with the women he dates.

You nod, chuckling, “yeah. She’s annoying as shit. I love her but all she wants is to get married and have a kid. I don’t even think she cares who the guy is. Insert man here.” You gesture and take another sip of your beer, “I wondered why she hasn’t been around since.” You hum, “so…have you been seeing anyone?” You ask, curious and mentally preparing yourself for heartbreak because you don’t want to keep fantasizing about him when he could be taken.

Frankie lifts a brow, very interested in the way the conversation has come back to him. “Nope.” He answers truthfully. “Haven’t really felt like it.” He’s had a couple of one night stands, but no one that he’s wanted anything more with. “But I can’t believe you are single.” He admits. “Guys where you live must be blind idiots.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I guess I don’t put myself out there enough. Maria is always telling me to get out in bars and meet someone but it’s not my scene anymore. Did that in college and now? I just want to find my person and settle down, spend nights watching movies with take out and make out on the sofa.” You confess with a giggle before you inhale deeply, deciding to take a leap. “I met someone but I don’t know if he likes me too. It’s hard to read him when he’s hiding behind a cap.” You confess, looking up at the hat on his head.

The Standard Heating Oil hat is a constant when he’s not in uniform, a family business that he had no interest in joining when he joined the Army. He reaches for it now and shuffles it back and scratches his longer than regulation hair and settles it back down. “Hat’s just an accessory.” He flashes you a grin and shuffles a little closer. “I bet the man you’re talking about has always thought you were amazing and wanted to take you out.” He hums.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look at him with surprise in your eyes and a smile on your face. “Well, I’d love to go out. Anytime, Morales. Just name the time and place.” You command and he nods, his hand finding your waist. “Could’ve been dancing during the wedding reception if I knew you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Frankie sighs and you take a chance to reach up and cup his cheek, “better late than never.” You murmur, stroking his stubbled cheek with your thumb.

Frankie’s eyes dip down to your lips and he licks his own without even realizing he’s doing it. Leaning in slightly to kiss you, your lips barely touch when the door opens. “Food’s ready!” Benny shouts out and grins when he sees Frankie. “Go Cat!” He slams the door and turns back to the group out in the yard. “Maria! Frankie’s kissing your sister!”

You chuckle against Frankie’s chin. The kiss is short and sweet, your heart pounding from the brief touch, but the moment has passed so you slide your hand down to Frankie’s neck. “Let’s get some food, Catfish.” You declare and he nods, knowing that he will need to kiss you properly another time where you won’t be interrupted. You make your way outside and everyone is smirking, making you roll your eyes. “Shut up.” You say to your sister and she holds her hand up, “I didn’t say a word.” You snort, “you don’t need to.” She’s been your sounding board for your previously unrequited crush on Frankie.

Frankie moves over to Benny, slapping his back harshly and squeezing the other man’s trap. “Thanks, asshole.” He hisses, even though he’s not too mad. The two of you are on the same page at least and his heart thumps when he looks over at you talking to your sister, even as his cock twitches. “Guest bedroom has fresh sheets.” Pope offers with a shit eating grin. “She’s staying there anyway, but I’m sure you wouldn’t mind christening the bed.”

You grab a hot dog and sit with your sister, talking about your extended family, and you tell her about Danielle and what she said to Frankie. “God, she’s - she’s too much. You mean to tell me she stopped you getting laid on my wedding night?” Maria scoffs, “well, you get the last laugh. The sheets are clean in the guest bed if you wanna have the best man stay tonight?” She smirks and you fluster, “I mean…I wouldn’t say no if he asked.” You confess, “he’s - God, I can really see a life with him. Is that too much?” You ask your sister who looks over at her husband and smiles when he winks at her from across the yard. “Nope. I know exactly what you mean.”

Benny and Pope are giving him hell, ribbing him relentlessly while Will and Tom laugh and egg them on. “Yeah, yeah.” Frankie rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing right along with them after relaying the entire story and feeling extremely confident now. “It’s better that we found out now.” He adds and they are encouraging him to go for it now. “Let her finish her hot dog.” Pope suggest. “Yeah, no deep throating Kong over here until thirty minutes after you’ve eaten.” Benny snorts, having seen Frankie naked more times than he could count. Frankie shoots him a bird.

You see the boys joking around and Maria playfully rolls her eyes. “Boys.” She scoffs and you chuckle, helping her with the plates once everyone is done eating. When you’re back in the kitchen, you look up as Frankie comes in to grab another beer. “Tom is a good griller.” You compliment his captain and Frankie nods, “he is. Always has been. Even when we were out in the middle of the desert, the asshole could grill up something on a fire.” He chuckles and you giggle, “I think later I should really thank you for your service. Show you my…appreciation for your sacrifice for our great nation.” You reach out to trail your nail down his chest, scratching his chest slightly.

“Mierda.” Frankie hisses, cock twitching again. Your boldness is sexy and he loves how you go after what you want. “I didn’t really want to watch fireworks anyway.” He admits with a smirk. “Overrated.”

You grin, loving that he is enthusiastic and not rejecting you. “I said later. I want to see some fireworks first in the sky and after, I want to see them when you make me cum on your tongue.” You declare boldly, leaning in to kiss his neck.

He groans, smirking even wider when you pull back to grin at him. “I see the rumors of my talents have been justifiably spread.” He jokes, sending you a wink. “You’ll see fireworks and then you’ll see stars.”

You giggle and step back when Tom walks into the kitchen to grab another beer. He playfully rolls his eyes at your proximity to Frankie, “can you two at least wait until after the fireworks? I bought like three packs. Benny is banned from letting off fireworks.” He reminds Fish who nods and reaches for your hand to squeeze it. You snort and ask “why?” and Frankie sighs, “well, Benny is great with a M4A1 but nearly burns his dick off with fireworks.” You nod in understanding and Tom takes a gulp of his beer, “you gonna come outside and help set up?” Tom asks and Frankie nods, squeezing your hand before he heads off to help Tom. You are anxious for later, knowing this would seem fast to most but you’ve wanted Frankie for nearly 3 years.

“Man, are you sure about this?” Tom asks seriously as the two of them walk outside. “This is Maria’s sister, if shit doesn’t work out….” He trails off, looking over at where Pope and his wife are sitting in one of the loungers, making out. “Yeah I know.” Frankie has thought about that a few times. His best friend would be honor bound to break his kneecaps. “But I think she’s worth it.”

You clean up some dishes, setting them aside to dry while the boys set up the fireworks. You head outside to find Frankie and Tom stepping back from the set up in the back of the yard and you see Pope sitting on the lounger with your sister between his legs, his hands caressing her thighs. “Get a room!” You yell at them playfully and your sister shouts back, “I have one upstairs.” You chuckle and walk over to Benny, “you think this is a good decision? Me and Frankie? I feel…I really like him but I don’t want him to break my heart.”

Benny snorts, nearly choking on his beer. “Fish?” He asks, pointing over to Frankie. “The man has it bad for you. Thinks moon beams shoot out of your ass and shit.” He jokes, trying to reassure you at the same time. “He’s pined for you. One of the reasons he hasn’t really dated. Said that he had already found the woman for him, but she was taken.”

You cover your smile with your beer, pleased that his friend said that. “We wasted time because my cousin lied but I don’t want to waste another second. I really like him and I - I want to see where it goes.” You confess just as Frankie comes over. His arm wraps around your waist to pull you against him and you smile, leaning into his side while Tom sets the fireworks off.

Frankie likes your weight against him as you both look up into the sky. “Enjoy the show.” He murmurs in your ear. “It’s just the first one of the night.”

You grin and nod, looking up at the sky as the fireworks begin. It’s gorgeous and your eyes widen at the display. “Wow.” You gasp and tilt your head, resting it on his shoulder to look up at the sky in awe.

The moment is completely perfect as he watches the fireworks as they burst overhead. Neighbors around the house also start shooting bursting bombs of color and light into the air, making the entire neighborhood light up. The display will go on for hours. “Happy Fourth of July.” Frankie hums.

You hum, lifting your head to look at him and he turns to look at you. His eyes flick down to your lips and you lean in at the same time he does. His nose nudges yours for a second, giving you a chance to back away, but when you don’t, his lips press against yours. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss as the fireworks explode over your head.

Frankie tightens his hold on you, drawing you closer while your tongue slides against his and makes him moan. He likes a woman who’s willing to initiate. His hands sliding up and down your back before he palms your ass possessively.

You whimper into his mouth, your hands sliding up to grip his neck and his hat is pushed back on his head as he kisses you thoroughly, squeezing your ass until you feel him starting to harden against your hip. The group notices and starts to cheer, making you fluster as you pull back from Frankie’s mouth.

“Get a room.” Santi snorts, grinning at Frankie before he waggles his brows at you. Tom chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Just don’t run off to get married.” He warns playfully. Frankie huffs and shakes his head. “You all suck.” He teases. “We are going to go upstairs now.”

You ignore the way everyone smirks as Frankie takes your hand and guides you through the yard into the house where you switch to guide him up the stairs. It’s a house Frankie knows well. He worked on it with Santi after he bought it, helping to update it. You giggle as you make your way upstairs and squeal when Frankie smacks your ass through your sundress. You find the door to the guest room and open it, pulling Frankie in behind you before you shut the door.

“So now we are alone.” Frankie smirks as he pushes the lock on the door knob and looks over at you. “And we aren’t nearly as drunk as we would have been at the wedding reception.” He adds. “That dress was killer though.”

“Thanks. I told my sister I’d only be maid of honor if I got to pick my dress.” You tease and make your way over to the foot of the bed after you kick off your sandals. “You looked so handsome in that suit. Wanted to rip it off of you but shit…Danielle ruined our good intentions.” You chuckle and take a step closer to him, “but we are here now and I want you, Frankie. I want you to touch me.” You plead, sliding your hands along his chest.

“Shorts and a t-shirt are just as good as a suit?” He asks jokingly as he pulls you closer again. “Although I like this dress too.” He slides one hand down to dip under the fabric. “Easy access.”

You smile when he caresses the back of your thigh and you lean in to kiss his clavicle on display above his t-shirt. “Shorts and t-shirt. Suit. Whatever you’re wearing, you are sexy, Morales. No two ways about it.” You murmur as you kiss along his collarbone.

“You’re sexy.” He finds the zipper to the sundress and drags it down. Eager to feel you under his hands. “Wanted to bend you over the wedding party table and fuck you right there.”

You let him pull the zipper down and you lower your arms so he can push the thin straps from your shoulders, letting the dress drop to the floor. “God, imagine that. Fucking me instead of making your best man speech.” You joke and you’re glad your dress didn’t require a bra.

“Woulda been great.” He moans when he peels the dress off you and sees your tits. “Fuck.” He hisses. “They are fucking pretty.” He compliments. “I want to suck on them when you ride my cock.”

“We can do that, baby. I just - shit - I just need you to touch me.” You plead, having spent so many nights imagining him touching you, inside of you, it’s almost unbearable to wait another second and when his hands squeeze your tits, you sigh in relief. “Yes. Please Frank.” You beg, your hand finding his hat so you can toss it onto the dresser.

“You are so goddamn pretty.” He murmurs softly, cupping your tits and pinching your nipples. “Do you want me to fuck you? Or eat you out first.”

The fact that he’s asking you what you want has your pussy clenching around nothing and you are impatient. You want him inside of you. “Fuck me first.” You demand, reaching for the hem of his shirt, “I want to see all of you.” You whine, pulling his shirt over his head when he lets go of your tits.

He is smirking at your impatience and eagerness, letting you reach for the button of his shorts. “Strip me down, baby.” He encourages. “I want you to touch me too. Imagined how good you would feel. How fucking perfect.” He groans. “You don’t know how often I thought about you while I was jerking my cock.”

You unbutton his shorts and push them down along with his briefs and he kicks them off while your eyes widen at the sight of his thick cock. “Probably as much as I touched myself thinking about you but fuck, I never imagined you’d be so…big.” You confess, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

He groans at your touch, rocking his hips forward and twitching when you squeeze him. “Don’t think I’ll fit?” He asks playfully. “I think I’ll fit, but I know you’ll be the tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You never knew he was such a dirty talker but you fucking love it. You moan and squeeze him again, guiding him by his cock back towards the bed and you let go of him as you fall down onto the bed and he follows you. He grabs your waist and lifts you up higher until you’re settled on the pillows. “Hi.” You murmur with a smile as he kneels between your spread legs.

“Hi.” He slides his hands up and down your thighs before he wraps a hand around his cock and starts to pump it. “You look so fucking pretty spread out for me, baby.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours while he settles into the v of your hips and lines up to sink into you inch by inch.

You cup his cheeks and lift your legs higher as he pushes into you, stretching you out. It’s a pinch without foreplay but you love how he’s stretching you out. “Oh God.” You gasp against his lips and he leans back, stopping. “You good, hermosa?” He asks and you nod, “yeah. Just overwhelmed. I never - didn’t think this would actually happen.” You confess softly, caressing his cheeks.

He nudges his nose against yours and kisses you softly. “I didn’t either.” He admits. “But it is happening and you are taking me so well. You feel so fucking good around my cock.” He is still inside you, praising you and loving how you clench down around him.

He pushes the rest of the way into you until his cock is nudging your cervix and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes at the way he feels inside you. “Fuck me, Morales.” You demand playfully and he shifts his hips, making you moan, your head tilting back against the pillow at how good he feels.

He chuckles and slowly pulls back, watching your body arch as you try to draw him back in. “Remember you asked for this.” He warns, another firework exploding above the house muffles the sound of your scream when he snaps his hips forward again.

He starts to fuck you in earnest and you cling to him, mouth open as you cry out his name in pleasure. It’s so fucking good. His hand squeezes your tit and you cover his hand with yours, making him squeeze again. “Oh shit. You feel - it’s so fucking good.” You praise him as he rocks into you.

It’s not the romantic, gentle time he probably should have been trying to focus on. This is raw, needy. Years worth of wanting being burnt off with the harsh snap of his hips and the groans when he’s buried so deep inside you that your walls clench around him. “You’re a fucking dream, baby.” He moans your name and kisses your neck. “Blowing my mind, fuck- I’m already about to bust.”

You moan at the fact that he’s so worked up. You’ve reduced this grown man to almost cumming like a teenager and that makes you clench around him, getting close. “I don’t care. You can cum. It’s safe. I have - fuck - I have an IUD. You can cum inside me.” You promise and caress his shoulders as he hunches over you.

That does it for him. He hasn’t even thought about birth control when he normally is an ‘always wear a condom’ kind of guy. The thought of filling you up as his hips stuttering before he pushes deep, painting your walls with ropes of his hot, sticky seed as he groans your name and apologizes over and over.

You stroke his back, enjoying the warmth of his cum filling you up. You sigh, closing your eyes and you know that he will make this up to you. You lower your legs from his hips as he comes to a stop and pants into your neck.

“Fuck, I can’t believe that I did that.” Frankie pants, pulling back to look you in the eyes as he kisses you. “Now, I’ll show you that I can make you cum on my tongue at least.” He promises, feeling a little embarrassed about his quick performance.

You shake your head, “it’s okay, baby. I’ll take it as a compliment. Just means you liked my pussy.” You tease, sliding your hands up to tangle in his hair as you lean in to nip his jaw playfully. “We have more times ahead.” You murmur, knowing that he won’t always do that.

“Shiiiit.” He snorts, shaking his head. “I have to take care of my girl.” He nudges his nose against yours, feeling on top of the world that you want to be with him. He smirks after one more kiss and starts to drag his mouth down your body as he moves towards his goal, determined to make you see stars like he had promised.

You watch him as he pulls out of you and starts to kiss down your body. You moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, biting down on the bud until it’s puffy and you are squirming beneath him. “Fuck, Frankie.” You moan, already feeling his cum welling up to leak out of you. “Do you want me to - to clean up before you - you know.” You ask, wanting to see if he wants you to clean his cum first. Some men don’t like tasting themselves.

Frankie grunts, shaking his head as he suckles on your tit before pulling off of it. “Why?” He asks, lifting a brow. “I’m just going to make you messy again when I make you cum and then fuck you like I should have the first time.”

You moan when he starts to kiss down your stomach, “some men don’t like it.” You answer and he rests his chin on your lower stomach, “I’m not some men. I don’t give a fuck if you’re full of my cum. I’m going to make you cum.” He promises and you whimper when his breath hits your slicked up folds.

The pearlescent liquid that is starting to drip out of you doesn’t bother Frankie. He uses his thumbs to pull your folds back, exposing your sensitive clit to his hungry gaze and he moans when he sees your cunt clench, pushing more of his cum out. “Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight.” He groans, looking up at you while he lowers his head down to suck your clit into his mouth.

His mouth is hot and wet as he sucks on your clit and a soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation. “Fuck. That feels good.” You murmur, stroking your fingers through his hair as his dark eyes watch you from between your thighs.

Frankie has never been a passive lover. He doesn’t take and not give in return. Even the one night stands left his bed unable to tell anyone that he had been selfish or didn’t try to make sure they had a good time. You, he especially wants to enjoy this, he wants you to love it. To be addicted to it and him in turn. The same way he is already addicted to you. He flattens his tongue against your folds and tastes the two of you combined with a moan.

You moan at the way he laps at you, tasting his own spend from your pussy, and you love the way his hands squeeze your thighs as he pushes them further apart to accommodate his wide shoulders. "Shit." You hiss in pleasure when he pushes his tongue inside of you.

He chuckles into you, aware that you are both shocked and awed by the fact that he’s willing to devour you so thoroughly. It makes it even better, his spent cock twitching as he feels your walls pulse around his tongue. Moaning at how good you are being for him. He can hear the cheers and the fireworks outside, but he’s focused on you, nothing else matters right now as he laps at your cunt.

Your head tilts back as his nose nudges against your clit and your chest heaves as the pleasure makes your spine tingle. The way he’s devouring you like a man starved has your mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Frankie groans, unwilling to pull away from your cunt to encourage you, so he just makes sounds as he doubles down on your pussy. Wanting to see you come apart for him as his cock starts to harden again.

His tongue pushes deep, lapping up his cum combined with yours, and you whimper, getting closer as he nudges your clit with his nose again. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan and he works his tongue faster, sending you over the edge.

He absorbs your sounds, loving how they muffle through your pussy and your walls flutter wildly as your body arches. Sucking your clit into his mouth and pulling on it while your body shakes and he wrings every drop of pleasure out of you that he can until you are pushing at his head. He lets go, licking at you softly just to feel you convulse with aftershocks and he chuckles quietly. “Now we’re even.”

You chuckle breathlessly, eyes closed as you enjoy the way he makes you feel, and you sigh in bliss as he kisses his way back up your body. You drag him down to press your lips to his, not caring about the combined taste on his tongue as it tangles with yours. You slide your hand down between you, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock. “Lay down.” You order, letting go of him to push on his chest.

He rolls onto his back and reaches for you. “You want to ride?” He asks, helping you as you swing a leg over his waist and straddle him. The next barrage of fireworks starts to burst, lighting up the bedroom and he grins. “There’s a show to compete with.”

You smirk, sliding down his body until you’re kneeling between his legs. His cock is still half hard so you wrap your fingers around him and take the head of his cock into your mouth. You love the way he groans and his mouth falls open as his dark eyes watch you.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, wanting to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling but he wants to watch you more. Knowing that this is so much better than his wildest dreams about you. “Fuck, baby, that mouth.” He groans. “I knew you would look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. So fucking pretty.” He reaches down and caresses your cheek, feeling the jaw move as you take him deeper.

He hardens more in your mouth and you love that, tasting the tang of your arousal lingering on his skin and you whimper around his cock as you start to pump what you can’t take into your mouth.

“Fuck, I want you to ride me.” Frankie whines. “Want to see your tits bounce while you ride my cock. Want to watch you.” He pants and curses again. “Mierda- that tongue of yours.” He hisses when you press your tongue against his slit. “Ride me, baby. Please ride me.”

You want to deny him and make him cum down your throat but you want to cum on his cock. You moan and release his cock, a string of spit keeping you connected until it breaks as you shift to straddle him. You reach down to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance after you lift up to sink down onto his length with a moan, fireworks still exploding outside.

“Fuck!” He rocks his hips up and grabs onto yours as he groans. You are perfect around him, looking like a goddess as you are taking his cock deep into your body. “Perfect, baby. Fuck, you are so perfect.” He reaches up and drags you down for a kiss.

You moan into his mouth, loving the way he feels even bigger in this new angle. “Fuck.” You pant against his mouth and rock back onto him. Your hands sliding into his hair as you slide your tongue against his.

Frankie holds onto you, adoring you with his hands. Cupping your tits and squeezing them as you slowly start to rock. Rolling your hips and squeezing your cock. “Fuck, baby.” He moans into your mouth breathlessly.

He loves the way you rock back onto him and you caress his chest as you kiss along his jaw. He feels so good inside you. “Fuck. You’re so good, baby.” You gasp, hitting something good inside of you.

“That’s it, baby.” Frankie encourages, holding you up and ducking his head so he can take a nipple into his mouth. Doing exactly what he said he wanted to do.

You rock back onto his cock, shifting back to sit up and you grab onto the headboard to start bouncing on his length. His eyes burn into yours and you watch him as your thighs start to burn but you ignore it and focus on the pleasure.

He watches, completely entranced by the sight of you riding him like he was a prized bull. Your fingernails dig into his chest and make him hiss in pleasure at the sweet sting as you brace yourself over him. “Fuck, fuck.” His eyes dip down between your thighs and he watches your lips drag over his shaft, making his toes curl when you clench down around him.

You are lost in the sensations, mouth open and whimpers escaping as you move faster, grinding down onto his cock, and your hand slides down to rub your clit. Frankie’s hand immediately knocks yours away and you whine until he picks up where you left off, rubbing your clit and you pant, “I’m so close. Shit. Keep going. Just like that. Just like - fuckkkk.” You wail, freezing on top of him as your walls clamp down on his cock while you soak him.

Frankie growls when you clamp down on him, soaking his cock and he braces his feet in the bed to rock up into you. Chasing his own release again while you shake and whimper, riding out your high. “Fuck, baby. Love it, love you.” He blurts out, knowing that you might not believe it, but he does love you.

His confession, even though it could be the best of the moment, makes you choke out, “love you too. Fuck, Frankie. Loved you since - since the engagement party.” You confess, wanting him to cum inside you again. “Cum for me. Please. Want to feel it again.” You beg, squeezing his cock in your walls.

He gasps out, holding tight to you as his cock drives up into your grasping walls over and over. “Fuck- you- you’re perfect.” He rambles, turning his head to press his lips to yours as his entire body tenses. Another thrust buries him deep and he’s moaning into your mouth as he falls over the edge again, cock pulsing deep inside you.

You pant against his lips as he stiffens beneath you, painting your walls again, and you caress his cheek, “so good. That time was - wow.” You murmur, relaxing above him as he slides his hands along your back down to your ass to playfully squeeze it.

“Had to make up for the first time.” Frankie jokes, even though it obviously hadn’t bothered you. He kisses you softly and sighs. “You’re amazing.” He has always thought so. “And I meant it. It’s too soon to say something like that, but I don’t just like you or want to sleep with you.” He admits. “I want to have a relationship. See where this goes.”

You caress his chest, “Frankie, we have known each other for four years. I think I’ve been in love with you for three of those. It’s not rushed and it’s not some fling. I want a relationship with you. I love you and I am all in if you are.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss his chin.

Frankie hums and shoots you a grin. “That sounds perfect to me.” He comments, just as the last barrage of fireworks quiets down and cheers are heard around the neighborhood. “Everyone agrees too.” He jokes, happy to finally be here with you and sharing how he feels.

****

“Thanks.” You say to your sister after she hands you a beer. “No worries. Bet you’re glad you don’t need to breastfeed anymore.” She grins and you snort, “yeah. I love him more than life but sometimes I just wanted a beer without having to pump and dump.” You confess, looking over at Santi and your husband, Frankie, as they talk. You have your son on your hip and he’s eight months old now. Santi and Maria’s daughter runs around chasing Uncle Benny, the lively two year old giggling while Tom grills and Will sips his beer overseeing the food.

“You know, Santi and I have thought about trying for another.” Your sister admits, grinning at the squeals of joy as her daughter is scooped up by Benny and he blows raspberries against her tummy. She shrugs slightly. “You having Marcus gave us baby fever. Especially Santi.” She rolls her eyes playfully, amazed that her sexy husband is so enthralled by the idea of getting her pregnant again. He loved her body while carrying their daughter and loves the changes that had brought to her post baby body.

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss the forehead of your baby as he babbles away on your hip. He will want to be crawling around in a minute but you want to hold him for a little longer. “Well, I’ll be honest…I kind of want another one too. Frankie is such a good dad and I just - we got pregnant by surprise with Marcus and we wanted him as soon as we found out but I kind of want to get pregnant knowing we are trying.” You tilt your head, “does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.” She promises, knowing you better than most. You want to wonder if every time your husband cums inside you if that is the time you create another life together. “It’s the anticipation and fun of trying.” She smirks. “I think that your husband has a breeding kink that might come out.” She teases playfully.

"You think so?" You smirk, looking over at Frankie as his gaze meets yours and he winks at you from under his ever present hat. "I like the idea of that. If we both try, we could be pregnant at the same time." You tell her and she grins, "how freaking amazing would that be? So, are we doing this? Telling our husbands to knock us up again?" She asks and you nod, "hell yeah." She giggles and reaches for Marcus, "lemme hold my nephew for a bit. Go tell your husband what you want." She smirks and you let her take your son into her arms and you sway your hips as you walk over to Frankie who is now alone as Santi walks over to Maria, cooing over the baby. "Happy 4th, baby. Thank you for your service." You murmur as you lean in to lick his ear. 

Shivering, Frankie groans and turns his head to press his lips to yours. “I love when you thank me.” He teases, remembering the very enthusiastic blow job he had gotten on Veteran’s Day, even though you were still pregnant and weren’t always feeling sexy. “This is our anniversary.” He reminds you with a grin, loving the re-telling of the story every year when the fireworks start. Every year the tales of your screams are even more exaggerated, but he doesn’t dispute Benny’s telling of the story. “I love you more now, if that’s possible.”

You reach up to cup his cheek as he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you so much.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him softly and he chases your lips as you pull back. “I have something I want to talk about.” You confess, sliding your hand down his chest. “Yeah?” He asks, brow furrowing in curiosity. “I want another baby.” You admit, biting your lip to wait for his reaction.

Frankie is honestly surprised, thinking that you would want a year or two before talking about another. “Are you sure?” He asks, wondering if his pride in Marcus and being a dad has somehow pressured you into thinking that he needs another kid now. “Yeah.” You grin and shrug your shoulders. “Maria and I were thinking that you and Santi could get us pregnant and we can go through it together.” He glances over at his best friend and your sister as they play with Marcus and he has to admit that it would be fun to share the expectant dad role with Santi. “Only if you’re really wanting another baby now.” He murmurs. “You are the one who has to go through everything.”

You nod, “I want this. I want us to enjoy trying for a baby. Marcus was a surprise and I want us to actively try and know that when you’re filling me up, it’s to knock me up.” You explain, “we have been using condoms anyway since I didn’t bother with another IUD after Marcus. We could start trying tonight.” You suggest with a smirk as you press yourself against him.

You can feel his cock twitch when you’re pressed against him, so Frankie doesn’t even deny that it sounds good to him. “I’ll burn the damn condoms.” He vows, hating wearing them, but he wasn’t going to push you towards a different birth control. He just loves feeling nothing between you. “You want a Fourth of July baby, baby?” He smirks back at you, leaning in to kiss you again.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding into his mouth. You moan when his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your shorts, and you ignore the cheers from your friends as Frankie devours you. “Guessing you said yes too, huh Fish?” Santi smirks as he walks over with Marcus on his hip. You step back from Frankie and take your son from his godfather, “you hungry, baby?” You ask and Marcus squeezes your breast, making you laugh. “Come on, let’s get you a snack.” You coo to your baby as you carry him into the house to get a snack for him.

Santiago slaps Frankie on the back and laughs. “Fuck, we are in for it now.” He jokes, smiling broadly at the adventures to come. “First one to get their wife pregnant has to buy the rounds throughout the pregnancy.” He tells him, making Frankie snort. “Pendejo.” He huffs. “You just want me to buy the drinks.” He won’t give a shit about it though. Proudly will buy the drinks since he’s a lucky fucking man. He’s got the woman he wanted and the life he never imagined he would have, all because of the Fourth of July.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello, I hope that my message reaches you, in general, here it is. Platonic Catnap x fem!reader, she is Catnap's caretaker, she makes sure that Catnap is healthy and exhausted, reader works with him at night, due to the fact that the reader has insomnia, she can not sleep for a very long time (by the way, because of this, she was chosen as Catnap's caretaker), so she can keep up with Catnap, but she can sometimes pass out, which is why you can't wake her up for a long time, and she sleeps in ridiculous positions, which caused a lot of awkward and embarrassing situations, it’s funny that the only thing that can wake her up is some kind of quiet sound. Now about the reader herself, she is calm but sarcastic, and a big workaholic, she is a very responsible person, and someone who never misses work, unlike other caretaker's smiling critter's, she is antisocial and rarely seen, reader can only be seen at work, or around Catnap, or both, so Catnap and reader always avoids the event together until Dogday and his caretaker find them, reader is mostly alone and she is only friends with Catnap, Dogday, and his caretaker, although reader does not show verbal affection, but her actions show how very cares a lot about Catnap, they are the type of friends who just sit for hours together and are silent, doing nothing, but they feel comfortable about it, reader sometimes falls asleep next to Catnap, because of the feeling of trust, and security, well, and also because she likes the smell of lavender, and it calms her and puts her to sleep. Everything was going well until the reader realized ... that the toys were alive, she initially thought it was some kind of advanced technology, animatronics, but when she saw one of the toys eating or bleeding ... she began to suspect something, and becomes more suspicious, the management/superiors noticed this, and decided (fortunately) to simply fire her, forbidding her from approaching Poppy Playtime, because of this she lost contact with Catnap, except for the caretaker of Dogday, after that ... Catnap decides to arrange an hour of joy, because the only thing that kept him from this was the reader, but since she is no longer there ... there is no point in delaying this moment any longer

Thanks in advance for writing

Stranger To Home

Note || ya’ll have IDEAS, I’m jealous. Anyway hope this was okay :>

WC || 1,718

Sleep wasn’t a gift made for you, you never had truly earned it. Many of your co-workers would call you a night owl, but you simply had lost all motive behind those intentions to actually care for their words. Or anyone else’s in particular, you just wanted to work your shift, get the job done and clock out. Though, in retrospect with your tendencies to stay up so late, even shifting into any other time of the day – it is befitting to be labeled an insomniac. Which had you guessing as to why that was your superior’s decision to assign you to CatNap, to be his official caretaker.

You groan, for once in a while you have truly broken your stoic facade. Your hand wanders over to the broom, ready to clean up the mess advertised to you.“If Jessie was smarter than this, then she really–” An unnatural sound had struck you from your focus, you turn to see CatNap laying on the floor, legs folding and head tucked just like a true cat would be in. You could never get over how wide of a gaping mouth that he wears.

“So silent.” You whisper, rolling your eyes as you go back to focus on cleaning up the mess in front of you.

You wished you were more prepared to be faced with the grievances of his appearance nevertheless, but he was simply an animatronic, nothing you couldn’t handle. They just wanted you to take care of him, make sure all was working correctly and right. Couldn’t help the fact that he too was an insomniac just like you. The superiors certainly had an eye for pairing people and things together, but you weren’t sure how well you get along with CatNap.

Strangely enough nonetheless, CatNap seemed to be so lifelike for being a giant animatronic. Nothing to mull over anyhow, you just wanted to get your job done. 

His presence was a comforting one though, you could multitask and get jobs done quicker that way. You never really hung around in one place for long, neither had he, only in the case of actually being seen sleeping on-top of one another – like a cuddle pile. Like many of the smiling critters, he had an assigned smell, something natural that they would emit. 

You really liked the lavender, however you would never admit that to anyone but just you and him. It was comforting, which had helped you to sleep most of the time. Help anyone be unlucky to cross paths with you when you didn’t get your much needed sleep. Your emotions were much more terse and more so colder when you haven't slept properly.

You continue mopping the mess in front of you, sweeping it into the bucket and letting it dry after a few uses. “CatNap, get yourself up. Need to move to the next location.” He rumbled and purred, shaking himself off as he sat up, hind legs folding into a straight stance. You almost forgot how large CatNap and the rest of the smiling critters were.

Speaking of which, you had needed to check in on with DogDay’s caretaker. You didn’t want the sunny dog’s caretaker to be lagging behind in their duties, no doubt with the children however. Something to worry about when you are finished with this anyhow, you need to maintain your work ethic. Which seemed to be ridiculous in hindsight, but you were being paid, and the colorful themes and the children in Playcare placated your being for a moment's time of peace.

You walked and walked, weaving effortlessly as you have before so many times. You recall your superiors, saying that you had a better planning of one’s time to get your own work done. Which in turn had raised your paycheck, surprisingly that had happened for once in your life. Your efforts being recognised and being paid like you were supposed to be.

“I’m gonna assume you're crawling on the side wall,” You sigh, holding the mop firmly in hand as you walk along the hallway. Posters and plenty of colorful lines decorated the walkway, “CatNap try not to hurt yourself, we don’t need a repeat.” You raise your brow, tone steadied to be a monotone one. A loud rumble was emitted in response, your once lifted head had dropped back to level with satisfaction. 

He isn’t much of a talker, You thought to yourself, steps echoing throughout. Yet the only thing buzzing in your mind was your thoughts. Not like DogDay anyway, did they design him to be cordially mute or something?

Your hand turned the knob, and you had opened the door to be met with pedestrians, and the usual guests. Many of which–rarely–are looking to adopt the children from the orphanage, children get lucky to have good parents. Or otherwise, people who just parent poorly. You sympathize with the poor souls. One case had steadily reminded you of these circumstances, nothing of adoption, just something similar. 

Nothing to mull about, just continue working. Company policy is company policy, it simply isn’t your place to intervene at any rate.

Your plait legs had easily worked through the crowds of people, nobody had bothered to pay attention to you as it was common to see people at work. You were without any grief fortunately as you didn’t like to be bothered by people, it was unnecessary and crude ‘less they truly had reason to take up your time. 

A hand tapped your exposed legs, of course, you were wearing white jean shorts (nothing obstructing, or cause of dress code). You turn around and sigh, ready to be fined for your defiance of your dressing. To your shock, it was just a child. One of them from the orphanage you assume.

She shifted on the balls of her bare feet, dirtied by the floors of the hallway. Indecent adults, you’d have to come back to this area later. 

“Um..” Her small voice came out, laced with nervousness and worry. “I think someone got hurt.” You raise a brow, bending down to be eye level with the child. You ease yourself to appear calm and less temperamental, you didn’t want to give her a freight. Slowly you spoke, “Who got hurt?”

You nod your head, almost as if you were titling your head in a questioning manner. “Can you tell me dear?” She shook with a nervousness that had taken you by surprise, you took her by the waist and hoisted her up to your level. The small girl clutched onto your chest as she steadied herself to speak again, “Ah.. it was the unicorn lady.” You feigned a look of exasperation, holding her close to reassure her.

“I’m sure Craftycorn is just fine,” You knit the lapels of her outfit into a tight twirl. Suddenly you had received an idea, “Hey, I’ll go check on her. That okay?” She nods, you set her back down. The young girl had waddled away to where she had come from, she was certainly instinctive no doubt. Making all the way here like that, simply would violate health codes.

You look back up at the shadowed ceiling, noting how the hallway was mostly desolate of guests. “Go on ahead, gotta check.” You jab a thumb in the general direction, referring to the silent and giant cat. You assume he had taken into precaution what you were indicating and had obeyed your command. This was gonna be a hassle, but you had to take caution of the well-being of the other smiling critters should the original caretaker of that smiling critter be out for the day (or moment for that matter). You weren’t close to Craftycorn’s caretaker, but it was unfortunately on your end you were far more work-oriented. This job has kept you afloat.

Getting there wasn’t much trouble, it seemed there were already other more qualified workers to attend to Craftycorn. Yet something about her seemed amiss, it startled you even once you had gotten a closer look. You didn’t want to believe it to be true, why was she bleeding?

Animatronics shouldn’t be able to bleed.

Why is she bleeding?

The girl was right.

Oh no.

The toys are alive, CatNap was real, DogDay was real. Everything that DogDay’s caretaker had told you was nothing but the absolute truth, you should’ve realized it before. Playtime Co. Factory was nothing what it seemed, what the hell were you getting yourself into? 

You couldn’t just come to this realization and walk away pretending you knew nothing about it, this was startling. All those children that had been whisked away before – you thought they were adopted, no, they were experimented on.

With a heavy breath, you turned and walked away. You didn’t want to stay there any longer then you had to, you didn’t want to know this. Why were they doing this? so cruel to the children and adults alike. You had thought better of Elliot Ludwig, now whatever image you had of the founder was erased. 

Soon enough, you were back at your work station with CatNap at rest. You mulled about what to do; telling wasn’t an option, trying to shut it down neither. 

You turned on your swivel chair, directing your line of sight right at CatNap who had no care for your eyes laying to rest upon his body. ‘Did it happen to you too?’ You remember a child from before, you only saw him before. Very briefly from amongst the distance as you weren’t a caretaker of any of the children. Would explain Ms. Harper, she was quite different, you remember she was interviewed by the superiors. Never in your life had you been so stricken by thoughts, troubling sure, but it was disastrous enough as is. 

What is Poppy Playtime?

Your superiors had taken notice of you uncovering more and more of Poppy Playtime’s secrets, it would be unconventional that they may be leaked to the public. So they had fired you, it was in opportune fortune that CatNap had liked you so much. A perfect friend, a perfect caretaker.

Much to the disdain of CatNap is when you have been fired, removed.

He had no reason to hold back on it any more, deciding to finally request to initiate the Hour Of Joy.

[randomshyperson]

Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.

Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.

A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.

Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.

A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.

Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.

The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.

"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.

"It's still my company..."

Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."

Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."

Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."

Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."

Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."

Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.

Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.

She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries. 

Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.

It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.

So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.

"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge. 

"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive. 

"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."

Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."

You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."

Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth. 

You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."

"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."

You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?" 

Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.

"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."

You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"

Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.

Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."

You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."

Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."

You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"

"I-I..."

"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."

She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.

Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.

As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.

Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.

Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.

Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.

"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"

"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"

You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."

Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.

Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:

"I'm leaving."

Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."

You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."

Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.

"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.

"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.

"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."

"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."

"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.

"Wanda..."

"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"

"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."

"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"

"I care, Wa-"

"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.

"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"

"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.

"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."

Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."

"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."

Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."

You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.

"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building." 

You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.

–//–

You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.

It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.

"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."

"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."

"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.

Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other. 

But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture. 

Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:

"Why are you here, sweetheart?" 

Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify. 

"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together. 

It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.

"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"

"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."

"W-what...?"

Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."

With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.

With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.

She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.

Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time. 

When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you. 

Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.

"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."

"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."

That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.

You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.

She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch. 

There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.

"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.

"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.

"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”

She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."

"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."

She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.

When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.

"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"

"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."

You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."

"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."

You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before. 

She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight. 

And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.

[enviedear]

i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.

pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3

you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.

"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.

the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."

you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.

you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.

no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.

he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.

but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.

naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.

what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.

you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.

you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.

your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.

but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.

but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.

you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"

when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.

"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.

you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."

ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."

you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.

ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.

"stop calling me that." you groan.

ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"

you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."

"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.

you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."

ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."

you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."

ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."

you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."

ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."

you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"

he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."

"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."

ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"

you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."

ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.

the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.

"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.

you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"

ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."

"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.

as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.

you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.

the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.

but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.

it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.

ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.

as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.

you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.

you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.

finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.

ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.

the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.

he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.

he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.

"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.

you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."

he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.

"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.

ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.

you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."

"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."

your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon…" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.

you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.

you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.

you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.

"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.

"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."

you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.

you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?

you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.

there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.

you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.

"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.

you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.

your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.

he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.

you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."

ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."

"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.

"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."

you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."

he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."

your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."

his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"

you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.

you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.

what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?

taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.

you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.

the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.

you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.

you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.

your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.

eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.

"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"

you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.

"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."

your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.

"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."

ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"

he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.

you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."

ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."

you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."

he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."

you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."

he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.

"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."

you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."

you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.

he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like… like you had something to hide."

it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.

"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."

you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.

he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.

you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."

you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."

he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.

his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘺𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦

Tom Ryder x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: Headcanons — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: 18+ Only please! Mentions of sex, smut, and relationship with F!reader. Also includes mentions of jealousy, narcissism, and famous relationships.

◢ A/N: I am back, doing some warm-up writing. I still have everything in my drafts, and currently have some free time to try and get caught up. Keep an eye out for new content. Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Dating a celebrity is never easy. Especially Tom, who right now is one of the most famous action stars in the world.

It'd be a lie to say that it hasn't gone to his head.

The man is narcissistic and not at the same time.

He's got an ego for days.

But he's not the type to gaslight you, at least not all the time.

He's capable of emotions, and yet he won't hesitate to try and cover up a murder with the help of his agent.

He's a man of morally gray standing. He's neither good nor evil, but will put himself first and foremost when his career is on the line.

When you and Tom started dating, it was unexpected.

No one expected it to happen. But he knew what he wanted and he went for it.

There was even a sticky note in his house about asking you out.

That note he didn't forget.

You aren't a celebrity like he is, so this forced you into the spotlight.

The tabloids ran with it, either making you look good or bad. It didn't matter to them.

What mattered was that Tom was dating someone new, and someone who wasn't a co-star.

It's strange being in the spotlight. Maybe a part of you hates it. Maybe a part of you likes it.

But you aren't dating Tom for his money or his fame, not like some people claim to.

You are probably the most down-to-earth person he's dated.

You don't ask him for things, or money. Which caused him to spoil you slightly.

He clings to you, keeping you close when he goes out.

He likes to show you off, even if people are criticizing him for who he's with.

His agent isn't a fan of you and tells him that he should be with someone else who is famous because it will help him.

There has been a time or two that she had almost convinced him to do it.

But when someone was said, it never turned out like he expected.

The arguments are heavy, mostly because that is when his ego comes to blows with you.

When you approach him to fix it, not wanting to fight, he tends to cave to the feelings you show him.

He starts to feel like you understand him past the fame and who he is as a person.

You've come to learn how to deal with his weird quirks, like the sticky notes.

More often than not, you are reminding him about things and trying to keep them cleaned up.

But some of the notes he leaves are utterly ridiculous and you tend to leave those up because they make you laugh.

Then you started to find notes about his feelings for you. Things he wanted to remember to say for later.

When he realized you saw them, all he could do was give you this boyishly charming smile.

Maybe the notes are a good thing.

It becomes a small form of communication between you two.

You have learned to deal with the parties, the drinking, and the drugs.

It may or may not be your scene. But somehow he manages to bring you out of your shell.

You have a good time with him. Letting loose. You always go home together.

The sex is amazing. Hot and heavy, a lot of heavy petting, moaning, and groaning.

He's vocal. Often telling you how he loves your body and how you feel wrapped around his cock.

"Fuck babe. You feel so good."

"You're going to make me cum babe if you keep doing that."

The man has his moments of being vanilla.

But when he gets kinky, he can get weird about it in a good way.

He's always willing to try something new.

But when you get submissive and worship him, he goes crazy.

The guy has a praise kink for days.

When you lean into his ear and start telling him about how you adore him, adore his cock, how good he feels, then he starts to go crazy mentally.

"Say it again babe. Louder."

"I'm gonna make you scream my name."

It makes it hard for him to keep his hands off you.

When he's gone, he thrives off the images and videos you send him.

Phone sex can be a regular when he can't get to you.

But there are times when he would take you wherever he's going.

The man won't hesitate to take you back to his trailer to have his way with you.

You'll make him late to set a time or two, but he doesn't care. He can get away with it for the most part.

He doesn't like other guys touching what is his. Ever.

He's going to make it known to his "friends" that you are off-limits.

He doesn't want them hitting on you.

This will bring out that small bit of insecurity that lingers in his mind.

He'll get jealous if he thinks the wrong thing, or see something that can be taken out of context.

If you two were to break up, Tom wouldn't handle it well.

You'd make him emotional, and the idea of seeing you with another man would frustrate him.

He'd try and get you back because of how you treated him and understood him.

This time, he'd be calling you while laying in the bathtub almost crying.

He might try and date someone else after, but chances are they aren't going to compare to you.

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