#he could've been home in three days

[yume-fanfare]

childhood friends to lovers. is real. goodnight

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

i want ike to be in three houses

for science

[atrwriting]

shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader

listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress

as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee

mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!

————

you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…

you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…

you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.

at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.

...until he stopped coming home before midnight.

...until the yelling got worse.

until he got worse.

you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.

after a few minutes, you sent a text.

a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.

...then another.

...and then another.

you called him, but there was no answer.

no fucking answer.

you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.

all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?

it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.

and there went the last straw…

you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.

what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.

…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.

she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.

that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.

“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”

your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.

“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.

“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.

you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.

“you’re fired," was all the man said.

everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.

“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."

and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.

with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.

“what’re you having, sweetheart?”

you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.

“i think i should —“

“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.

you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.

you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.

the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.

the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.

“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”

when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.

“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”

within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.

“can i give you a lift?” you asked.

few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.

“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.

you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”

“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”

you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”

he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.

he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”

you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”

he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.

logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.

“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”

you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”

“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”

you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.

“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”

curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.

logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.

“that’s a girl, yeah…” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”

“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.

he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”

you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.

“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”

“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"

“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”

“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.

“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."

“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”

“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."

you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.

“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”

“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.

“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”

“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.

he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”

you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”

his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”

you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“

“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”

“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“

“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”

he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.

“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”

“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.

“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.

his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.

and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?

“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”

you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”

the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.

he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.

“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."

you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.

“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”

“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“

“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”

“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”

he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.

“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.

when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.

when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.

“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”

he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.

“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."

his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”

and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.

“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”

and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.

“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."

———

i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think

[rhaenyratargcryen]

you're my shotgun lover and i want it all | tyler owens (twisters)

masterlist ❈

summary: Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells. author's note: i...wrote this...in one.......single......afternoon. my fingers hurt anyway he's so hot i have had a crush on glen powell since 2018 (set it up supremacy) but this movie reawakened something in me. i should probably watch top gun now

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader word count: 9,123 (...oopsie) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), alternate universe: canon divergence, friends to lovers, friends with benefits

also cross-posted to ao3 okay love you bye xoxo your comments and reblogs are appreciated but not required i will love you all the same i hope u like !!!! <3

all characters are 18+ these are 18+ activities minors pls do not interact my eye is twitching as i write this 

It has been one hell of a week.

The tornadic activity has been off the charts – more storms built up under ideal conditions for weather hell-bent on destruction in a multiple-day stretch than you can remember ever tracking before. Your team had obviously been up for the chase, but now that the storms have passed, and the sun shines on the cleanup efforts, you can’t help but wish you’d chosen a different life path. You love what you do, but God, were you tired. Blisters have formed on the palms of your hands despite the gloves you’d donned. You could practically feel the knots forming in your neck. You shovel one more load of leaf litter before heaving the blade into the ground and leaning against it. Across from you, a backhoe is demolishing and excavating the remains of a house.

You close your eyes and try to just let the sun warm your face, thinking about how fast it can all just be gone. Mother Nature’s a beautiful force, but she can be cruel.

“Hey, don’t be slowin’ down on me,” Tyler jokes, clapping a hand between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t heard him approach, and his voice has startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re ‘bout halfway done with our part, I think.”

“No,” you reply, swiping the back of your arm across your forehead, trying in vain to clear your bangs from your eyes, but they won’t budge. Tyler reaches up and, almost as if he isn’t even thinking about it, takes the unruly pieces of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tucks it behind your ear, underneath the temple of your sunglasses, to make sure it stays this time. The action is so intimate it sends a flush crawling up your neck. You chance a look around to make sure no one else has seen. “Not slowin’ down, I promise. Just thinking about how lucky we are to be alive. How sad it is that all these people just lost everything.”

You’ve known Tyler since the two of you were in college together, fast friends who’d stuck together through a lot that could've put a strain on any other relationship, although you hadn’t studied meteorology – you’d been in school to be a librarian. 

One night, he’d asked you to stay up and help him with a lab he’d missed for one of his classes, and he loves to say he knew it then – that you were hooked – but you were too far along in your degree to do anything about it now. Switching from an arts degree to one in STEM? You’d have had to start over from scratch. 

Tyler had formed his team while you were in grad school and he was working as a cowboy for the rodeo back home, and you’d dropped out without a second thought when he asked you to be a founding member, to travel the country with him every tornado season. Said he wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about doing it without you. You’ve been riding with him ever since.

The two of you share everything, always have, and sometimes you wonder if it might be too much for the professional relationship you’re supposed to have.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Tyler grins, the hand still glued to your back rubbing gently, sending goosebumps across your skin under your shirt. “To help ‘em feel like their luck is turnin’.”

Always the optimist, Tyler Owens. He clears his throat, the hand on your back pulling away, and steps slightly closer to you.

“One of the folks over there gave these to me,” he says, gesturing to a group of people gathering in front of a house that looks like something had tried to suck it into the ground from dead center. “I saved their cat from their screened-in porch, poor thing had been yowling all night apparently. Know these’re your favorite, so, here you go. I think you earned it.”

You take the tin from him and open it, your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the small, round butter cookies inside. “God,” you groan, picking one up and taking a bite, savoring it over your tongue. You can feel Tyler watching you carefully. “Thank you. You get me.”

“Do we get cookies, Tyler?”

Lily’s voice sounds from your left, and you glance over at her. The shit-eating look on her face tells you she did see Tyler fix your hair for you. Your stomach somersaults.

“If you’re good,” Tyler says, smirking, “after the sun sets, we can head back to the motel, find some shitty bar, and drinks’ll be on me, okay? How’s that sound?”

Lily whoops, turning to Dani, who’d since appeared beside her, and the two snicker and fist bump. 

“You need any help over here?”

You look back at Tyler, cupping one hand above your eyes to shield them from the sunlight. Despite your glasses, it shines bright from directly behind him, and you can hardly stand to look at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you murmur in reply, bending down to toss some siding that had been blown off one of the houses on this street into the wheelbarrow you’ve been using. “You should go see what Boone’s up to – I don’t think anyone has seen him in a minute.”

No doubt Boone was hiding somewhere with one of the breakfast burritos Lily and Dani have been rolling since early that morning, seeing how long he can get away with not doing his part. He’s a good guy, but the manual labor side of the job isn’t really his thing.

“Eh, he’s better off wherever he is,” Tyler laughs, and a small smile takes over your face, too. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You don’t need a break? You can take a minute to yourself, no one’ll judge. I know how this can all get to you a little more than it gets to everyone else.”

You know him well enough to know he’s not calling you weak-stomached, that he’s genuinely concerned for how you feel, but he’s right. It does all get to you. Settling in to help survivors of these natural disasters is just something that comes with the chasing – there isn’t one without the other for you and the rest of the crew. You nod, glancing back up at him. 

“I’m okay, Tyler. Go off and be the face of the operation – you don’t have to worry about me.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between your eyes, trying to find evidence you’re withholding the truth from him, but he seems to find nothing. With a minute tip of his head, he turns to resume working through a long-term plan for rebuilding the town with the mayor and some other members of the local government. 

This is something else you know he loves to do – shmooze with higher-ups, show off his people skills. Not only are they higher-ups, they’re small-town folk. His kind of people. He knows how to get through to them, how to get them to trust him. You love that about Tyler. He’s never condescending – he always has a genuine desire to help. He’s been through this hundreds of times, and these people may only have been through it this one time. You look around at them, at the people of all ages picking up the pieces that remain of their community, then cross your fingers and send a thought out to anyone listening:

Please let it be the only time.

After a few more hours of genuinely back-breaking work, you hear Tyler’s sharp whistle and know it’s time, meandering over to his truck where it’s been parked for almost eighteen hours. Using your teeth, you pull your gloves from your hands and hiss. They’ve been rubbed raw, the skin blistering where each finger meets the palm. You try to ignore the throbbing sensation, leaning against the passenger side door and closing your eyes. The rest of the crew sidle up to you, taking long drags from water bottles and cigarettes and trying to make peace with how you’re leaving this place tonight.

“Does anyone else want to break off to shower first?”

It seems Dani’s the only one, and they shrug, putting their hand out, palm up, to Dexter, who hands them the keys to the RV.

“Meet y’all there,” they say, stifling a yawn, and you know it’ll be a bit before you see them. The rest of you will have to pile into Tyler’s truck, and before you can object, the other three crawl into the back seat and leave you on the front bench with Tyler. You let yourself in and close the door behind you, buckling and watching as Tyler shakes someone’s hand and hustles to meet the rest of you. His Texans cap hits the bench before he does, between the two of you, and he turns his keys in the ignition, buckling his own seatbelt.

“Where we headin’?”

“There’s a place with a mechanical bull nearby. I vote there.”

“How nearby is ‘nearby,’ Boone?”

“Uh,” he pulls his phone from his pocket, does a quick Google to double-check. “Forty-five minutes?”

Dexter leans over and grips Boone’s phone, reading the screen. “In the opposite direction of the motel, Boone.”

Everyone groans, objecting, and you press your hand against your temple to alleviate the pressure there. The noise, God, the noise.

“Could we go somewhere closer to the motel, maybe?”

“It’s got a mechanical bull,” Boone stresses, and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Boone, you know damn well we’re not making it back to the motel if we go that far away.”

He groans, and you pull your own phone out, checking Maps to see what’s around the motel.

“This one’s three minutes from where we’re stayin’,” you say, showing Tyler your screen, and he nods, shifting into reverse, backing out, and starting down the one lane of the street that’s been cleared of debris. 

“Hey Boone,” you toss over your shoulder as Tyler shifts into second gear. “By the way. Long time no see.”

Lily snorts, smacking you on the shoulder to let you know she thought that was a good one. Boone shakes his head. 

“Hey, just because you didn’t see me all day doesn’t mean I wasn’t out there, too. How do I know you were workin’, weren’t sitting on your ass in the shade somewhere, hm?”

You hold your raw, red palms out for him to inspect and that shuts Boone up quick. Tyler whistles as he gets an eyeful of your skin.

“God damn, girl,” Lily murmurs. “That looks like it hurts. I think I might have Aquaphor in my bag back at the motel if you want some.”

“I’ll be alright,” you reply, knocking your elbow against her knee behind you in thanks. “Appreciate you.”

The rest of the drive is taken mostly in silence, everyone in the backseat trying to rest their eyes, but you stay up, your eyes on the road, so Tyler isn’t the only one making the thirty-ish minute drive back to where you’re staying, where you checked in only after it’d been decided which towns had been hit the worst, so you could reach all of them easily by truck.

“What’s goin’ on in your head? Hm?”

You turn to look at Tyler and he glances at you from out of the corner of his eye, then at your lap, at the fingernails you’ve picked down to the quick. “Real quiet over there.”

“Nothing,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t let Boone get to you,” Tyler says, tapping his right fist on your thigh once, twice, then letting it rest there. You brush your knuckles against his and he opens the fist immediately, taking your hand in his but not squeezing, careful not to put pressure on the blisters on your palms.

“It’s not that,” you start, then realize your mistake, your admission. “I really – I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

You’re acutely aware of your hand in Tyler’s. It’s not like you’ve ever been shy around him – your cheeks flush at the thought – but this is…different. Sweet. More.

“Yeah, that it has,” he sighs, adjusting his left hand on the steering wheel so he can drive a little more comfortably, but his right hand stays in yours. 

You settle back into silence, Tyler seemingly having dropped the subject, and your eyes return to the road, but you feel him looking over at you, checking on you, every once in a while. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze. 

Soon enough, Tyler is putting the truck in park, then shutting the thing off. The noise – or lack thereof, you guess – wakes Dexter in the back, then Lily, who snorts when she sees your hand in Tyler’s. You pull away and unbuckle your seatbelt, watching as Tyler, with a hurt look on his face, wipes his hand on his jeans and swings himself down and out of the truck.

“C’mon, Boone,” he shouts, slapping a hand on the door that Boone has his head resting against, and the man sits up straight, wiping sleep from his eyes. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Drinks on me, pal!”

The motel really is that close to the bar, so you all decide you’ll leave the truck parked there and walk home at the end of the night. The unspoken verdict is that you will all be getting shitfaced tonight.

The lingering smell of cigarettes in the air seems to rejuvenate everyone and Lily pumps a fist when she spots the old-fashioned jukebox across the room, then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes there’s a TouchTunes sitting right next to it.

“Oh, I am so forcing you fuckers to listen to Chappell Roan all night,” she says gleefully, and you laugh along with her, looping your arm in hers and letting her pull you across the room while the boys settle in at the bar.

“So what was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” You play dumb, shrugging when Lily gives you a hard look and unhooks her arm from yours.

“Girl, seriously,” Lily scoffs, bumping your hip with hers and slipping a twenty dollar bill into the TouchTunes. Evidently she wasn’t joking when she meant you’d be listening to Chappell Roan all night. “I saw that thing earlier, the hair thing, don’t think I didn’t. And y’all holding hands in the truck. What’s going on there?”

You shake your head but she grabs your wrist. “I’m serious, Lil. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends – good friends. He noticed I was having a hard time today, and wanted to make sure I was alright. That’s all.”

You can tell she doesn’t fully believe you, and when she opens her mouth to object, you cut her off.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”

Lily watches you, trying to read the small line between your eyebrows, but eventually she nods and lets go of you, letting you turn away from her. You push through the door to the women’s restroom, your nose wrinkling at the smell, but you ignore it. Standing in front of the sink, you watch yourself, hands shaking. This isn’t you. You’re better than this at shoving these feelings for Tyler down, way down – or, rather, you had been, up until this week broke you, apparently. Turning the knob for the cold water to the left, you let it run over your sore hands, hissing at the feeling. Carefully, you cup your palms and watch them fill, then splash the water onto your face, soothing the flush. There. That should help.

There’s a cold bottle of Coors in front of the seat next to Dexter when you arrive back to the group, “Red Wine Supernova” playing from the speakers. You almost snort at all the old men – regulars, no doubt – groaning out their distaste for whoever chose the music all across the room.

“Thanks,” you toss over your shoulder at Tyler, sitting on the other side of Dexter and Boone. He nods and nurses his own. You frown and settle onto the stool, leaning an elbow on the bartop so you can turn and face your friends. The cold beer against the palms of your hands feels so nice.

What’s wrong with him? He won’t make eye contact with you, and you notice his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. What’s got his panties in a twist?

As the night unfolds, you find yourself laughing more and more, loosening up, letting the stress of the last week fade into memory. Someone has produced a deck of cards from God knows where and Dani – who did join the group eventually – is showing off card tricks you didn’t even know they knew. You feel a warmth spreading through your body, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you love all of these people. Your friends. Your family. Empty bottles are swiftly replaced with full, cold ones without notice, and everyone is languid, relaxed, unburdened by the work that you’re all doing.

You take a pull from your drink, using the cover of the bottle to risk a glance to Tyler three seats down from you to find that he’s already watching you, and the look in his eye tells you exactly what he’s thinking. That somersault-y feeling is lower than your stomach now. You’re only three beers deep, but the air in your head reminds you that you’ve barely eaten all day, so you’re a little more affected by the alcohol than you’d usually be. Impolitely, you reach across Dexter next to you to grab a handful of peanuts from the basket to his left.

Glancing back up at Tyler, you meet his heady gaze again, and he smirks around the lip of the bottle against his mouth. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. You swallow nervously around another sip of beer.

Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells.

“Alright, y’all,” Lily says, slapping a hand on the bar, startling you out of your thoughts. You watch her, popping a nut into your mouth. “Think I’m gonna head out. I suggest you all do, too, fuckers, it’s late.”

Everyone starts to protest, but one glance at the clock tells you you’ve all stayed much longer than you thought – it’s a quarter past midnight, and you’ve got to be up with the daylight. You balk, but if you want to talk to Tyler tonight, you know you’ve got to shoulder your exhaustion and stick it out a little longer.

“I think I might stay for a bit,” you murmur, watching everyone stand and gather their things. You glance over at Tyler, who you can see clearly now that everyone’s out of their seats, and he’s watching you, too. The look on his face reads plain, now – he wants you.

“I’ll stay with her,” he says, eyes on yours. The green in them has disappeared almost completely, you notice, his pupils blown wide. “Walk her back. Y’all head back if you want.”

“I might stay, too –” Boone’s voice cuts off, coughing as Lily elbows him in the stomach, maybe a little too hard. “What the fuck was that for?”

“You’re going to bed, too, Boone,” Dani interrupts, a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They poke him once when he starts to protest. “C’mon, now.”

Everyone shuffles out the front, Dexter calling good night, and all of the sudden, it’s just you and Tyler. You don’t know why, but your palms begin to sweat at the thought of being alone with him again. He stands, palming his drink, and slides onto the seat next to you, his body angled towards yours.

He’s never made you nervous like this. You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you.

“So,” Tyler starts, grinning at you. “You come here often?”

You snort, emboldened by the booze, and he chuckles in response. “Idiot.”

“God, but I do love making you laugh.”

You blush under his scrutinous gaze, and take a quick swig of the dregs of your drink, unsure what to say to that. He mirrors you, taking a sip of his own while his eyes bore into yours. Accusatory.

“You don’t do it much anymore, you know that?”

“Do what?”

“Laugh.”

You press your fingertips to your mouth and Tyler’s eyes follow your hand. “I guess I just haven’t had much to laugh about lately,” you start, sighing deeply. “Tornado season’s been hard this year, and you know how much that – it gets to me. As much as I love what we do. You know. Remember that family a couple weeks back whose daughter was stuck under her bunk bed when it pressed on her too long, lost her leg below the knee? That got to me, Tyler. It did.”

“It gets to me, too,” he murmurs, knocking his knee against yours. “I guess I’m just better at hiding how bad it affects me. You can talk to me about it, though. You can talk to any of us.”

“I know I can,” you breathe, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “I know. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, though, you know, what is there to say? It’s not fair to complain about how sad it makes me to watch these people lose everything.”

“You’re allowed to feel sad. And to feel frustrated. It’s not fair, you’re right, but we’re doing good work, yeah? Fighting the good fight. Figuring out what makes these things tick, how to warn people when they’re in the path, get them outta the way and safe. Maybe they lose their house, their car, but they won’t lose themselves, or each other. That’s what matters most. Just remember that.”

You look up at him, set your elbow on the bartop, and prop your chin on your open palm. Your hands don’t hurt so bad anymore, you notice. “Thanks, Tyler.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, but you shake your head. 

“Seriously. You always know what to say.”

A look crosses his face then, too quick for you to read, and he sets his drink down, flagging the bartender over to close out the team’s tab. You frown, wondering if you’d, ironically, said the wrong thing.

“What’s up?”

Tyler looks back to you, and this time, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. It burns. “Taking you home, sweetheart.”

The walk back to your motel is done in silence. Tyler’s hand swings next to yours, and you feel it searching for yours more than once, but you don’t take it. You climb the stairs together, slowly, and he walks you to your door. His room is one more floor up.

You can tell he thinks you won’t invite him in, that you’ve changed your mind – or maybe that you never made it up. He hadn’t, after all, told you plainly that that was why he’d stayed with you at the bar. You unlock the room with your key card and step inside, opening the door only far enough for you to fit through it. You turn back to look at him, his face awash in the street lights shining into the hallway. You flip the lightswitch on next to you, illuminating the room behind you, too.

“Well,” he murmurs, making to head back down the stairs. “Good night.”

“Tyler?”

His head turns back to look at you, watching as you hold out one hand and he takes it, letting you pull him closer to you. You press yourself into him, push your whole face against his chest, your hip keeping the door from closing on the two of you. You inhale deeply, the smell of him overtaking your senses. His cologne, yes, but underneath that, the smell of dirt, earth. Home.

You feel his arms wrap around your back and you turn your head to the side, press your ear to his heartbeat. Your hands come up to scratch down his back and you feel it when he shudders.

“Stay?”

You hear his breath hitch in his chest, then the deep rumble of his voice as he says, “Alright, baby.”

With a short inhale, your eyes flutter, nearly closing at the term of endearment. You step back, pulling him with you, and as you close the door behind you, he pushes one hand up into your hair and pulls your head toward his.

“I, uh,” you whisper against his lips when they get close enough to yours, “I think I might shower first, if that’s okay with you?”

“Alright,” he murmurs, unlacing his hand from the strands of your hair before toeing his boots off and carefully setting them under the chair next to the front door. “You want company?”

You swallow. You’ve never done anything like that before. It’s always been quick. When you do this with him, you hardly ever have time for a chat before he’s got your shirt over your head and his mouth on your skin.

“Sure,” you reply. You feel him watch as you turn around and pull your shirt off, reaching back to unclasp your bra. The modesty feels redundant, but you can’t help it.

“Not gettin’ shy on me now, are you? S’not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he chuckles, and you throw a look at him over your shoulder just as he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. He left his hat at the bar, you think. You’ll have to go back in for it when you pick up the truck.

“Tyler,” you scold, and he laughs at you, steps across the room to wrap an arm around your torso and press a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder. The place he knows makes you melt. You sigh and push back against him, the feeling of his hard chest against your bare back a welcome one. This feels more like what you know, what you’re used to.

“Shower,” you remind him, and he nods, his forehead pressed into that spot now, and he pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans, running them along the bit of skin there around to the front, where the fabric splits at the button. He pops it undone, then uses his thumb and forefinger to grip the zipper and slowly – so slowly – pulls that down. He can’t help himself, you know that, and so you hold your breath and wait for him to push his hand into your panties. Ever a predictable man, he does just that, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm hand against you.

“Are you sure?” Tyler’s breath against your neck makes you shiver, and you press your ear to the side of his chin. He runs his fingers along the seam of you, finding first your clit, your legs twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure when he brushes his hand against it, then pushing down to find you wet and wanting. You cry out softly. “You don’t sound sure. You don’t feel sure.”

You hum, your neck stretching back until your head is pressed to his chest, and he pulls his hand back up to start working small circles on your clit, your wetness on his fingers allowing for smooth movement, with just enough friction to have you panting for more. 

“Sounds more to me like you kinda want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“Tyler,” you whimper, telling him with just his name that you are getting close. He smiles against the side of your neck, pulling his hand away and shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough that his hand has room to smack your clit lightly. You squeal, right leg kicking out at the feeling, and he continues moving his hand in circles to soothe the hurt.

Your breath is coming out of you in short huffs, and before you can come, Tyler takes his hand off of you and wraps it around your stomach to join the other. You pant and whine, rubbing your thighs together to chase the feeling he’d had you practically pressed up against, now ebbing with the loss of his fingers.

“You said you wanted to shower,” he whispers in your ear, pulling your panties back up, and you scowl, pushing away from him. He laughs and holds his hands up in defense as you pick your t-shirt up off your bed and crack it at him like a whip. “Let’s shower, baby.”

“I might kick you out right now, Owens,” you snark, but the small smile on your face gives you away, and Tyler unbuttons his own jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Your jeans join his, and you’re both left in your underwear.

“You wouldn’t,” he replies, pulling his briefs off slowly, biting his bottom lip as you watch him. “You like this cock too much.”

You can’t help laughing at him, but the sight of him bare in front of you does have you biting your lip. You step forward to cup his growing length in your hand. Before you can move it, Tyler puts a hand on your wrist.

“How’s your hand?” He makes to pull it away, presumably to turn it over and appraise your blisters, but you shake your head.

“S’fine,” you whisper, tightening your grip. You tug once, twice, and press a kiss to his bare chest, then tip your head back to search out his lips. He leans down to oblige you, his lips parting against your mouth as you twist your fist. You love these moments you share with him, when you’re both bare, physically, emotionally, away from the real world, and you can pretend this is an everyday thing. When you’re not trying to tell yourself you feel nothing for him. Like this is just how it is between you.

Tyler groans when you pull your hand away from him and you click your tongue, press that same hand against his bicep.

“Doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”

Before you even know what’s happening, Tyler is picking you up, one arm underneath your back and the other around the backs of your knees. You look up at his face and laugh. “Put me down, Owens!”

He grins and carries you the few paces into the bathroom, placing you on your feet in front of the tub. Tyler leans down and pushes his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to put your hands on his shoulders and step out of them.

He lets you pull away from him to turn the hot water on, adjusting the cold side until the temperature is perfect, before pulling you against his chest once again. This time, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your backside, and you hum appraisingly. You reach behind you to fist him again, but he shakes his head – you feel his chin brush against the top of your head – and he groans out, “Mm-mm.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna shower, baby, c’mon.”

You glance back towards him and watch as he flicks the overhead light on. “So we don’t slip and die,” he says, and you laugh, pushing the shower curtain to the side. Holding Tyler’s hand, you step over the lip of the tub and under the steady stream of warm water, inhaling deeply when it hits the sore muscles in your shoulders and back. Tyler groans at the feeling, too, when he steps in behind you.

“Here, switch with me,” he murmurs, guiding you by your waist until you’re the one underneath the water. You let it fall onto the top of your head, over your face and down the back of your hair, for a moment, eyes closed, relishing the feeling. Tyler reaches both hands up and brushes the water out of your eyes, runs his hand over the top of your head. 

“Shampoo?”

You open one eye, the other shut against the water, and nod. You gaze up at him, heart squeezing at the way he’s watching you. His smile widens and he takes the tiny bottle in his hand – it looks even more comically small now – and dumps the product into his other palm, setting the bottle down onto the edge of the tub and rubbing his hands together.

“Turn around.”

You do as he asks, inhaling sharply through your nose when you feel his hands run through the hair at the crown of your head. Your stomach aches with longing as you register how unnaturally intimate this is. His fingers feel so good against your scalp, which is slightly sunburnt, you’re now realizing. He massages the shampoo further into your hair, running his fingers down the back of your neck and across the tops of your shoulders. When he’s satisfied with his shampoo job, he steers you by your arms to face him again, then carefully helps you tilt your head back and rinses it all from your hair.

You watch him pick up the other small bottle from the shelf, warm water still running down the back of your head. 

“I’ll do my conditioner,” you murmur, taking the bottle gently from his hands. “It’s a – it’s a science.”

“I am very good at science, if you can recall.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s something I’ve gotten perfectly right. It’ll take just a sec.”

So you work the conditioner through the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze as he watches your hands first coat your hair in the product, then rinse it out. He reaches forward to run his own fingers across it, as gently as he can.

“Hm,” he makes the noise in the back of his throat, pulling his hand away. “Soft.”

You can hardly look at him, the twisting feeling in your stomach shifting to something warmer, something further from apprehension, something that feels a lot like want. “You?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m good. Here,” he says, rubbing his hands across the plane of your upper back. “You’re tense. You worked hard today. Let me help.”

You weren’t going to protest, but before you can, Tyler guides you forward and out of the direct spray of the shower, then presses his thumbs into your muscle. You groan, your head falling forward onto his chest at the feeling, and he chuckles at you, continuing with his hands. “Feel good?”

“So good,” you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch against your stomach.

“You fucking dog,” you joke, and Tyler laughs against you, pushing your hair off the back of your neck and pressing his thumbs in there, too.

“Hey, what can I say? I like making my girl feel good.”

You freeze. His girl? His girl. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, and he keeps pressing his fingers into your sore muscles, pulling one hand away briefly to push the showerhead down and away from the two of you. You glance up, already missing its warmth, but you find that the steam rising around you is doing a good enough job at that.

“Here, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and guiding you to press your hands against the tiled wall to your left, running his hands down your back.

“What are you –”

Before you can finish the thought, you feel Tyler’s fingers parting the seam of your cunt from – from behind, and you groan at the feeling of his middle finger slipping inside of you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his knees hitting the floor behind you. You toss a glance at him over your shoulder and your own knees nearly buckle at the way he’s looking up at you – with hunger, and with reverence, and with something else entirely unrecognizable. He looks wild. He looks in love.

One of Tyler’s hands clamps down around your hips and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh as his finger starts to shift in and out of you. You shiver and push your face into the cool tile, groaning softly when he finds that rough bit of flesh inside of you, the one that makes you come undone if he works it long enough.

“Yeah?” Tyler sounds fucked out already, his voice breathy against your skin, and you can picture the look on his face, the concentrated expression he gets when he’s trying to make you come. You try to focus on the feeling of the shower’s spray where it hits the edge of your foot rather than how good his finger feels inside you because if you think too closely about how good it feels, you’ll get lightheaded. And nobody wants that.

“Yeah,” you reply weakly, and for a few minutes it’s just like that, the only sound in the bathroom the shower, your panting moans, and the noise your pussy makes as he pulls his finger in and out.

“Sound so good for me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh again, and you whine, trying to protest when he slips his finger from you. He laughs deep in his chest and lightly smacks the swell of your ass.

“Don’t complain when I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for you,” he jok, and you can feel then that he’s shifting himself around. You want to look over your shoulder, want to see for yourself what he’s doing, but freeze when you feel his palms cupping your ass, his nose pressing against the inside of your thighs.

Your mouth forms the word oh, but no sound comes out until you feel his mouth press against your cunt, tongue pushing inside of you, and then you cry out, chest heaving, when he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your clit. You pull your face from where it’s still resting against the tile and look down at Tyler to find he’s already looking right up at you. His grip on your ass tightens when you make eye contact with him, and he spreads you open wider for him, eyes narrowing as his tongue flicks again, and again, and again.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans against you, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch. You already thought you were going to burst, the steam from the shower, the way he’d washed your hair, the fact that he was in your room at all – it all made you feel slightly insane. To add insult to injury, he’s just pushed two fingers inside of you and immediately found the spot that takes you out, and you start to shake a little.

“Tyler,” you whine, pushing one hand down to grip his hair. He groans when you tighten your hold on it, fucking into you a little faster. “Tyler, fuck, gonna come.”

“So come, baby,” comes his reply, and you do, you come so hard that the toes on your right foot curl until you’re on tiptoe and Tyler has to reach up and grip your waist to steady you. You feel it crest, and peak, then subside, but he keeps working you through it, his mouth moving against you still, and a second, smaller – though still good – orgasm wracks your body right after the first.

You breathe through it, push your foot down so you’re standing flat on the surface of the tub again, and wait for Tyler to pull his fingers out of you. 

“Baby,” Tyler groans, squeezing your hips, his fingernails biting slightly into your skin. “You gotta let go’a me, if you want me to get up.”

His voice, fuck, his voice, you think, releasing your grip on his hair and turning to watch him rise from his knees, the tile cold against your back. You surge forward to kiss him square on the mouth and he catches you, smiles against you when you part your lips to taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was that good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, pressing one, two, three more quick kisses to his mouth, before he reaches behind you to turn off the water. “So fucking good.”

Neither of you bother with a towel, instead opting to stumble toward the queen bed in the middle of the room and climb right underneath the covers.

“Hi,” you whisper when you’re settled in, the duvet pulled up under your chin. Your eyes rove over his face, then glance over to the alarm clock behind him. 1:56 in the morning. “You still wanna fuck?”

Tyler snorts, reaching over to poke you in the side, gripping the skin there until you start to laugh. “You still wanna fuck?”

“Yeah,” you reply, grinning, when you catch your breath. “Wanna?”

He’s quiet for a second, watching the duvet rise and fall with each breath you take, before he peels it off of you, using his elbow to push himself up until he’s leaning over you. There’s a rosy flush on your chest, your breasts heaving and it’s all he can do not to lean down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, the one closest to him. Instead, he runs the back of his other hand across your chest, catching against the hard peak, and watches your breath stick to the inside of your throat. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning toward him as his face comes toward you. You want him to kiss you, but instead, he angles his mouth to kiss the skin below your chin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your neck, pressing his open mouth to you there, and you gasp at the feeling – of his mouth against you, and of his praise. It all feels so nice. He just made you come in the shower, and now he’s going to make you come in this bed, hopefully more than once. 

You wrap your hands around his back and pull him toward you, watch as he settles in between your thighs. You can feel his thick cock, heavy, insistent, where it presses against you, and you want to take him into your hands, but he has other plans. 

With one hand pressed into the pillow on either side of your head, Tyler uses his knees to knock your legs out further, sitting back against his heels when he’s satisfied. He wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls you closer, smiling down at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blush when he repeats himself, suddenly feeling very bare. He’s just as naked as you are, but you can’t help but feel like he’s seen your whole hand, meanwhile you hardly have any idea what cards he might hold. In the dim light from the lamp beside your head, you notice that you can see the green of his irises again. It seems like the shower sobered the two of you up very quickly.

His gaze locked on yours, Tyler takes himself into his hand, groaning at the pressure of his grip after neglecting his own want for so long, but he suddenly curses, pausing just as he’s about to press inside of you.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes, sitting back again. He runs one hand through his hair, visibly weighing the options.

“It’s okay, Tyler,” you murmur, leaning up onto your elbows. “It’s okay. I have an IUD, and I got screened after the last time I was with someone. I’m good. I’m good if you’re good.”

Tyler heaves a heavy sigh, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re sure? I’m clean, too, cross my heart. But only if you’re sure.”

You nod. “My head is clear. I think I shook off my drunk an orgasm or two ago.”

A grin crosses his face, and you roll your eyes at him before he even opens his mouth. Two? he mouths, then whistles lowly. You smack his stomach, and he grabs your wrist in his hand, lightning quick, pressing a kiss to the pulse point there. Your jaw falls slack, and you go all soft and pliant, letting him pin your hands above your head. His body comes down over yours, and his mouth presses to your cheek, then your forehead, and when your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a kiss crosses them, too.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmurs, and normally if a man were to say that to you, you would immediately regret letting him into your bed. But for some reason, when Tyler says it, it sends that familiar warmth spiraling down into your gut. You know he means it.

Slowly – too slowly – he guides himself back to your entrance, shifting his hips so they’re resting comfortably against yours, and he presses himself inside of you. You hiss; the girth of him, although a welcome stretch, is also a bit of an uncomfortable one. He leans down to kiss you, working you through it with a thumb pressing circles into your clit, sliding himself in bit by bit until he’s fully seated. 

A groan pushes out of him when you clench around him, testing the waters.

“Careful,” he murmurs, easing his hips back. “I’d like it if this lasted longer than ten seconds, please.”

You laugh against the side of his head, pull your hands down from where he’d left them above you and wrap yourself around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Tyler grips your thighs and starts to work himself in and out of you, carefully, gently, but you squeeze his waist with your knees. Encouraging him. Asking him to pick it up. You can handle it.

His hips start to pull back and snap against yours quicker and quicker, Tyler panting in your ear, lifting up onto his palms and pushing himself off of you. He sits up onto his knees and tilts your hips up for a different angle, one that sets sparks dancing in front of your eyes. You groan, head tossed back, and dig your nails into his thighs as his pace picks up.

“Fuck, yeah, that it, baby? I can feel you – fuck, feel you squeezin’ me.”

You hardly have a voice with the rate he’s slipping in and out of you, barely enough to squeak out, “Fuck,” before your cunt has him in a vice grip, working through another orgasm.

“Ohhh, that’s it, huh, that’s it.” His mouth is going a mile a minute, neither of you really paying much attention to anything he’s actually saying. You’re both focused on his own mounting orgasm – you don’t feel like your body is capable of much more than that – and you weakly clamp down around him once more. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips stutter, and he grits out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” before he slots against you and you feel him filling you. You run a hand down his back, soothing him as he comes, biting your lip at the feeling, foreign but enjoyable.

Tyler groans and glances down to where his cock is softening inside of you. He eases his hips back, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he does. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You nod meagerly, pressing the back of your hand against your warm cheek. He watches you and, assured that you’re not going to pass out on him or anything, stands and hobbles into the bathroom. The sink turns on out of sight, and you close your eyes, listening to the water run. Tyler returns with a warm, wet towel and wipes the inside of your thighs, swiping gently across your cunt, before folding the towel and letting it fall to the floor at your bedside.

You feel loose, calm. Safe. You hardly notice him turn the light off, but you do feel the bed dip beside you as he rejoins you under the covers and pulls you into his arms. You melt against his sturdy chest, his heartbeat under your face a comfort, the rhythmic tick tick tick of it lulling you to sleep. But there’s still one thing you have to know before you can relax completely.

His breathing has started to even out, but he hasn’t snored yet, so you know he’ll still hear you when you ask, “Are you gonna leave?”

He grunts an acknowledgement of your question, nuzzling down into the top of your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You know your answer, but you still bite your lip, considering the question. You hadn’t thought before that maybe he left after every night you spent together because he thought you didn’t want to wake up with him. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll stay.”

If he’s at all worried about what will happen when you wake up tomorrow, he doesn’t show it, but anxiety courses through you at the thought of anyone finding out. Does he want the others to know? Because that’s what it feels like.

“Stop thinking about it,” he whispers, like he can hear your thoughts racing. “It’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”

Easy for him to say. He’s out like a light. And you’re left alone with your thoughts until you fall into fitful, dissatisfying sleep sometime around when the world outside starts to turn blue.

A pounding on your door wakes you from deep sleep – the deepest you’d gotten all night, at least – and you try to sit up but find there’s a heavy weight on your chest blocking you. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing down at the sleeping body next to you. It takes a second for it to register: Tyler’s here. 

Tyler’s here. Sidled up against you, arm thrown over your stomach like this is where he belongs. He didn’t leave. He stayed, like he said he would. His face looks so peaceful – so beautiful – you almost hate to wake him.

“Come on, sleepyhead! Time to get a move on!”

Almost. You scramble to push Tyler off of you, ignoring his noises of protest, jumping out from under the covers and grabbing various articles of clothing off the floor to pull over your naked form. You plop back down on the bed, this time on his side, right next to where he’s starting to wake.

“Dude, get up, they’re gonna know you’re not in your room. They’re gonna know you’re in here.”

“So what,” he grumbles, rolling over as you push him and settling deeper into the bed. “Let ‘em.”

You sit up straight, one hand on his arm. “You mean that?”

He hums and turns his neck to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘course I do. You’re my girl.”

Your face flushes a deep pink and Tyler grins, reaching over to wrap an arm around you and drag you back down into the bed, pinning you under him and peppering an assault of open-mouthed kisses all over your face. You grin, thinking that you could get used to this – just not right now.

“Seriously, Tyler,” you laugh, pushing a hand against the side of his face. He squeezes your hip. “We have to get up. We gotta get back out there.”

Tyler sighs, loosening his grip on your body and kneeling over you. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright, alright.”

He stands and takes the top sheet with him, wrapped around his waist, and heads to the bathroom. To brush his teeth, you hope. God.

“You know,” he says, head popping back out into the room, mouth full of toothpaste. “Yesterday. I wanted them to see us holding hands.”

You watch as he smiles at you and disappears back into the bathroom, then fall back onto the bed, hands pressed over your eyes. 

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are dressed, teeth brushed, hair taken care of, day packs slung over your shoulder, and you’re pulling the door closed behind you when you hear a whistle that pulls your attention to the parking lot.

“Damn, Owens!”

The voice makes you jump, and you groan. You thought you were going to get away with the sneaking around, but the rest of your team is watching from next to the RV as the two of you descend the stairs together.

Lily and Dani turn to Boone with smug looks on both their faces, and he rolls his eyes and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. They hold their hands out for him to slap two twenty dollar bills down into.

“What’s that?” You ask when you get close enough to them.

“We had a bet that you and Owens would come out of that room together. Well, that one or his. Didn’t matter which.”

“A bet I just lost,” Boone groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I thought for sure…”

The rest of the crew snickers, including Tyler, who won’t look at you. You poke a finger into his chest.

“Did you know about this?”

“No, I swear,” he says, hands up, and you don’t know why, but you believe him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t drunkenly confess to Lily weeks ago that sometimes we, you know…”

You scoff, almost mad, but then Boone shouts and the scoff turns into a snicker because, hey, you love him, but you can’t help but relish in his defeat.

“So they knew?! That’s cheating!”

He storms off while the rest of you laugh, Dani clutching their side and following him around the side of the building to try to make amends, trailing off, “If it makes you feel any better…”

Lily looks over at you, then at Tyler, a grin swallowing her face. “So, are you guys, like, together now? Or something?”

You look up at Tyler, who’s smiling softly at you, clearly deferring to you to answer that question. You feel a surge of affection for him swell in your chest. Clearing your throat, you turn to Lily.

“Or something.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki’s masterlist ♡ !

lil blurbs ! ( i'm just talkin'):

katsuki likes to make you laugh

katsuki's love language

katsuki is so dramatic

katsuki likes to bite you

childhood bodyguard! katsuki

katsuki x popstar! reader

katsuki is fun to mess with

katsuki really likes the way you smell

hockey player! bakugou

sleepy kisses w katsuki

katsuki and compliments

katsuki doesn't give a fuck

goodnight kiss (or the one where katsuki isn’t good at asking for, well…anything.)

suck up katsuki

could've fooled me ( or the one where you peel your orange yourself and katsuki is not happy)

katsuki and your naps (or the one where katsuki hates kaminari)

katsuki is a big baby

katsuki and (non sexual) hickies ! more !

no good thief ! (or the one where katsuki finds out who’s been stealing his clothes)

sleeping on the couch

katsuki and petnames…kinda

katsuki in a suit

katsuki is dramatic again (or the one where katsuki isn’t worried..really.)

katsuki and ice cream

katsuki and changing

katsuki doesn't give a fuck, again !

your almost boyfriend katsuki

baby suki

lil fics ! ( i ramble a little longer) :

katsuki is in trouble

katsuki's extra clingy when he's sleepy

from the start (or the one where you've been katsuki's for as long as you can remember)

you are not the father ! (or watching the maury show with katsuki)

katsuki hates seeing you cry

unchanged apologies (or the one where katsuki's childhood habits remains the same)

fire-breathing roommate chronicles (or living w dragon bkg)

baking cookies with katsuki

can't love anyone more than you

katsuki can't say no to you (not that he wants to) (or the one where katsuki takes care of you after you get drunk) part two !

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.( or the one where katsuki thinks about you) bnha manga spoilers !!

the bet (or the one where your classmates make a bet.)

this night has opened my eyes (or the one where katsuki cleans up your injuries)

valentine's day troubles (or the one where katsuki's friends help him out for valentines day )

boyfriend for sale ! (or the one where your boyfriend forgets to ask you to be his valentine) feat. shoto todoroki !

ewww, katsu's got cooties ! (or the one where katsuki is too cool for cooties)

two of hearts (or the one where katsuki wakes up) bnha manga spoilers !!

31 days (or the one where katsuki surprises you)

habits (or little habits katsuki's developed ever since he's met you) slight bnha manga spoilers !!

while i search for the way to your world, leave a mark on your way (or the one where katsuki has his first real fight with you)

jealous, jealous, jealous girl ! (or the one where your boyfriend gets too much attention)

half return (or the one where katsuki decides to go home for the weekend and brings you with him) bnha manga spoilers !!

longer fics / mini series ! ( get comfy 'cuz this one's a multi-parter !) :

♡ fire-breathing roommate chronicles !♡ when an injured, mysterious, and incredibly handsome dragon man blasts through the wall of your apartment, you decide to let him stay with you until he's fully healed. despite the struggles of co-habitating with a mythical beast, his mysterious past and annoyingly sharp tongue, you find you can't help feeling drawn to him..

♡ fire-breathing boyfriend chronicles ! ♡ some short ‘n sweet little extra’s following the events of fbrc starring our favorite now dragon boyfriend bakugou !

ring pop proposal ♡ 1 2 3 ♡ the three times where mitsuki realizes that her katsuki is in love with you (and she realizes you love him back)

♡ ring pops, chocolates proposals ! ♡ katsuki loves you throughout the years.

an explosive birthday (collab event for the days leading up to katsuki's birthday !) see masterlist

shadows of affection : orphaned at a young age, katsuki knows nothing but endless violence and the feeling of his bruised and bloody knuckles. until he gets taken in by a mob boss and is tasked to become his daughter's bodyguard..

and then some more ! ( extra's !)

the morning after : katsuki confronts you about what you told him the night you got drunk

♡ fire-breathing boyfriend chronicles ! ♡ some short ‘n sweet little extra’s following the events of fbrc starring our favorite now dragon boyfriend bakugou !

♡ ring pops, chocolates proposals ! ♡ katsuki loves you throughout the years.

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 6: Pup Cup

Masterlist

Summary: Simon unexpectedly runs into you... and your friends... and Tyler.

Warnings: dissociation, jealousy

It was finally Saturday - a Saturday where you had cleared your schedule, and so had Leslie and Nina. AND Tyler. Which was maybe once every two months. So, you had made plans to get brunch with the girls, the three of you deciding to dress up a bit and get mimosas. Tyler had promised to swing by around one to take you around the city, then to spend a cozy day at his apartment.

Right now, it was girl time. The three of you had your mimosa pitcher and a shared basket of fries, delving into each other's personal drama.

"And then Marcie asked me to pick up this Saturday - today, mind you - because she forgot the two interns were finished this Thursday. Of course, I told her no, in the most professional way I could - and she had the audacity to say I needed to pick up more slack. Me!!"

Nina scoffed. Your jaw dropped open. "You've been there the longest!"

Leslie nodded. "Longer than her, too! God, I could've let her have it, right then and there-" she sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Of course, I didn't. But I made sure she knew I would not be coming in on my day off, that I had planned for weeks."

You snapped your fingers in applause, making Leslie chuckle. "Bravo to you - we love seeing women fighting women in the workplace."

"Oh, stuff it." She laughed, swatting your hands away. "Feels like an episode of 'The Office,' if you ask me. Just too bloody insane to be real."

You hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of your mimosa. Your eyes wandered down to your purse, hanging from the side of your chair, your phone tucked away within. I wonder what Simon's up to... what does he do on his days off?

"Speaking of women in the workplace..." Leslie turns to Nina, who was scowling at her phone. "Who's got you so irate on a Saturday?"

"Idiots, that's who." She grumbled, furiously punching away at the keyboard on her screen. "It's as if the minute I take a personal vacation, everyone and their grandmother suddenly need a wedding planner." She sighed and tucked her phone back into her purse. "I'm sorry..."

You and Leslie shook your head, reassuring her that it was alright. God forbid she starts falling into the "I work so hard and get nothing in return" schpeel - which would be believable and understandable, if it wasn't for the fact that she played that card every time the three of you were together.

"Did you hear she started dog-sitting?" Leslie said, nodding in your direction.

That snapped Nina out of her own head. "You did? What does that have to do with your design work?"

You huffed. "Well, it doesn't - but, and I told you this, Leslie" - she laughed at your glare - "that I was just looking for a house-sitting gig, like what I did before I left that stupid company. Just until I got a few clients to myself, and could start my own business."

"Busy bee..." Leslie commented, and Nina nodded in agreement.

"Not nearly as you two - remember how hard it was for me and Tyler to have a weekend together? Now I'm the one waiting for him. He's even started coming with me when I take Riley for walks - just to spend more time together."

"How sweet..." Leslie cooed.

"Riley?" Nina asked.

"The dog." You answered. "She's a wonderful dog, really. Used to be military, before her... injury..."

You trailed off, staring at something between Leslie's and Nina's heads. They stared at you in confusion for a moment, until you beamed widely and started waving your hand. They turned to stare at whomever had caught your attention.

Simon wasn't one for "get-togethers," as he heard them called. He was perfectly fine spending his leave at home, only leaving to walk Riley or get his groceries and smokes. He'd occasionally text the team and see what they were up to, but other than that - he had no problem living like a hermit.

Soap was the one to suggest the idea of the team getting lunch together, since they were all nearby for work. Of course, Gaz was never one to turn down a group outing; once he was in, Price had decided they all might as well go. ("Should be a team off the field too, right?")

So that's how Simon had been forced to come out of his cave. And no, it might not seem like he was forced... but it would be rude of him not to go, so therefore, societal standards were forcing him. That, and Soap would bitch about him being a "bawbag" for weeks if he didn't tag along.

He decided to bring Riley with him, since it had been a few weeks since she had seen everyone. She looked around as she panted, walking besides Simon through the mildly-crowded sidewalk. It was a decent Saturday afternoon, with a mix of cloud and sun hanging in the sky. Simon wore his usual jeans and a sweatshirt, along with a black surgical mask.

He needed a head start for the day. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with his team outside of work... but people were exhausting, especially when he was forced into proximity with them. He needed a few hours to himself, in public, just to wake up his social battery. The best way to achieve that? Tea, Riley, and people-watching.

So that's how he found himself, next in line at the coffee counter of a restaraunt he’d been to a few times before. He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he held Riley's leash; her head was on a swivel, sniffing the aromas that wafted through the air, and the occasional hand of each person who passed her. Simon was thankful people were wary of his presence - it kept everyone from trying to lean down and pet Riley without his permission.

The customer in front of him moved away from the counter, and Simon stepped forward. The girl behind the cash register smiled at him, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"Jus' a tea. Medium, no sugar, no cream."

"Would you like the passionfruit tea or the mint berry mixer? Or our jasmine goddess?"

"... d'you have black tea?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, I'll get your black tea."

Simon huffed as he put his cash on the counter. Don' get why tha's funny...

He watched as she moved - rather sluggishly, he thought. Despite that her makeup did a fantastic job of hiding how tired she must have been, he could see it in her eyes and actions. The way she stood there, shoulders slightly slumped as she watched the hot water pour into Simon's cup, her arms resting heavily against the counter. He looked behind him briefly, noticing how long the line was for the cafe. Not to mention she had dine-in orders to fulfill, too... and she's alone at the coffee bar. He turned back, watching as she fought to make sure the lid was properly secured on his cup. It made him a bit nervous, how she supported nearly all of her weight onto the top. What if it crumples? What if she gets burnt? Is there a burn kit behind the shelf? Probably not-

Riley whined, snapping Simon’s attention away from the barista and down towards her. She licked her lips and stared up at him curiously.

She always knows.

He sighed, patting her flank. "Thanks, girl."

The barista returned with his tea, as well as a small cup of whipped cream with a dog biscuit poking out of it. “For your friend.” She said with a too-tight smile.

Simon stared blankly at the whipped cream cup. "I didn't order tha’.” He said bluntly.

“It’s on the house! Pup cups are free.” She said, nudging the two items towards Simon. “Don’t worry, there’s no added sugars in the whipped cream, and the treat is allergen-free.”

Why does everyone assume dogs have allergies? Simon thought to himself. He glanced at Riley for a brief moment – she looked back at him, certainly not expecting a treat, not yet. She’d hounded him enough for those goddamn biscuits all morning, the ones you’d been spoiling her with, and he had no choice but to follow the routine and gave her one. This created a cycle that sent him to the doggie-daycare once a week to pick up more, since the old woman who made them only sold them there. Without even intending to, most likely, you were taking more from his wallet than he had hired you for. Not that he minded… it was all for Riley, however, he was almost certain he’d buy a fucking parrot if you were the one convincing him.

Riley let out a garbled sound, making Simon realize he was still staring at her. And holding up the line. Shit, socializing was more taxing than he thought…

“Thanks…” he mumbled, grabbing his drink and the cup of whipped cream. He carefully directed himself and Riley through the crowd and over to the condiment shelf, setting both items down and adjusting his grip on Riley’s leash. He still had a few hours to kill; it’s a bit cramped in here, he thought as he grabbed a handful of napkins, eyeing the throng of coffee addicts and beatniks in the cafe, there’s always the bench by the fountain on Muller and 4th street, that might-

The sight of your familiar, perfect, sparkling eyes sucked the air and the thoughts from his body in a matter of a single second. That bright personality speared him like a harpoon as you waved from across the café, beckoning him over with a waggle of your fingers. His mind was trying to catch up after being knocked off of its feet, and he finally inhaled.

You looked equally surprised to see him - but he wasn't paying attention to that. He noticed your eyeliner and lipstick, how it made your features even brighter than they typically were. You'd worn your hair down, which was the first time he'd seen it like this since he hired you. Your nails were painted a soft pink, which accentuated the mimosa glass like an orange sunset across a blush sky... and your dress. Of course, it was bright and floral, just like your personality. But it was soft, too. The way it fitted so nicely around you - not too tight, perfectly settled around your shoulders and hips, making you look delicate. Simon was sure if he was to reach out and touch your arm, it would feel like he'd touched the skin of an angel.

He was too stunned to wave back, still frozen in the one spot by the counter as people flowed around him like river water around a stone. It wasn't until Riley had noticed you too and began whining that Simon finally gathered his bearings and nodded his head at you, stuffing the napkins in his pocket.

Two other heads swiveled around from your table and eyed him curiously, and for a moment, he groaned internally; you were with friends. Not horrible, but... not ideal. He didn't care to talk to anyone other than you at the moment – really, ever. Still, you were here, and that trumped all other factors. His anxieties moved to the sidelines when you were on the other end of the path. He clicked his tongue at Riley and grabbed his tea, carefully weaving through patrons and tables to get to you.

"Simon!" You chirped when he approached; you stood up and on your toes, reaching your arms to give him a side hug. He awkwardly stood there, attempting to hug you back by letting his arm curve around your upper back, careful not to spill his tea. Before he could stop himself, he took a deep, quiet breath in, nearly sighing at the smell of your perfume.

So floral and... sweet. Like the bookstore/plant nursery hybrid that he passes when he walks through town on his way for groceries.

You pulled away, and he straightened up. He was suddenly aware of the other two women staring at him.

"So sorry!" You said, turning to your friends. "Simon- this is Leslie, and Nina."

"’Ello." He said quietly, uninterested, and they each responded with their own "hi's". Leslie looked at him with a scrutinous stare, and he could feel her trying to peel him apart layer by layer. She looked like a corporate junkie, with her tight bun and high heels. Nina... she was... odd. She looked at him with her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes half-lidded... it made him uncomfortable. Both with the way she shamelessly ogled, and with how her eyes seemed to be a few unfortunate centimeters too far apart.

"And this is Riley!" You said, bending down and ruffling the dog’s fur. "How ya been, girl?"

She blinked at you as you pet her, sniffing the air between your face and hers. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted, nearly smiling up at you if she could have.

"Ya gone and spoiled her." Simon commented, feeling something warm at the sight of you and Riley. "She wants me to tuck 'er in every day, now. And she's got me runnin' to the dog daycare every week for those bloody biscuits."

Leslie pursed her lips, thinking Simon was being rather rude. You laughed, sitting back down in your seat. "She wasn't spoiled enough, in my opinion. Did she drag you to Poeheko Park yet?"

"She did. Thought I's about to be mugged."

You laughed again. Simon wished he could bottle the sound and keep it in his pocket, so he could pull it out and listen to it over and over whenever he wanted.

"I don't think anyone could mug you, Simon." You said, absentmindedly stroking Riley's fur as she sat next to you.

So you thought he was strong? Invincible? Oh, that did something to him.

"What do you do, Simon?" Leslie asked, sipping her mimosa. "For work?"

Definitely corporate... he thought, from the way her question sounded slightly interrogatory.

"Military." He said bluntly.

Nina's lips curled into a smile; he chose to ignore it.

"Her too?" Leslie pointed at Riley, who sniffed her extended hand.

"She was..." Simon looked down at her, a bit pleased that Riley huffed in distaste at the 'stranger'. "Retired. And a rotten princess now, thanks to you." He turned back to you, his expression lighting up the tiniest bit.

You could sense something - what it was exactly, you couldn't put your finger on it. Simon seemed... tense. Uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't like being thrown into social settings with people he didn't know. You understood it.

"Well-" you said, trying to ignore the way Nina stared at him. "I don't want to interrupt your morning."

"You weren't." He said, still looking at you.

You sent him a glance, and laughed nervously. He continued watching you - God bless anyone who was ever in a staring contest with this man - as Riley sat next to him obediently. Fuck, she was staring at you too...

Leslie looked back and forth between the two of you for a moment, with you blushing furiously, and Simon watching you like you were prey - fortunately, she found an opportunity to come for your rescue.

"Oh, Tyler's here, luv." She said, tilting her head towards the space behind you.

You turned in your seat and smiled, just as a man came up and whisked you out of your chair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, and he smiled as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Thought you were coming by around one?" You said, pulling back to look at his face.

"I was able to pick up the kit from work earlier than I expected, so I thought I'd come by now." He briefly waved at Leslie and Nina, tucking you into his side. "Sorry girls - lookin' lovely, by the way - but I'm stealin' her a bit early today."

Nina waved her hand dismissively. "We had something planned for tomorrow too; go right ahead." Leslie nodded in agreement.

Tyler smiled. "Perfect. Glad it's not too much of a- woah..."

He turned to look – to really take in the sight of the hulking, brooding man beside you, and he was very visibly taken aback. Simon's soft stare had turned into a cold, unforgiving glare. His eyes were hardened with - something. Maybe anger, maybe authority. He stood rigid and tall, with his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, as he bore holes into Tyler's frame.

Simon took him in: soft, brown hair, a slight tan, rough hands, yet soft features. Slight wrinkles around the eyes from smiling too much. A white shirt and jeans, with a plaid – it made sense, now where your stash had come from.

He liked the way that Tyler was a bit intimidated, as evident by the look in his eyes. What he didn't like, was... Tyler. How he held you close. How you let him hold you. And how he himself felt the urge to snatch you from Tyler's grasp and march you out of the cafe.

"Oh, sorry-" your voice brought them both out of their trance. "Tyler, this is Simon. My client."

"Ah!" Tyler smiled, relaxing a bit as he held his hand out. "Nice to meet you!"

Simon grabbed it firmly, making Tyler wince the tiniest bit as he shook his hand. "Likewise." Not in the slightest.

When he released his hand, Tyler bent down to Riley and offered his hand for a sniff. "I know we've met before, girl."

Simon felt something stir in his gut as Riley sniffed Tyler's hand. "Y' have?" He asked, his voice a bit harsh.

"He's never been in your house." You said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension in the air. "He just tags along for the walks sometimes. Keeps us company.”

Riley IS the company. Y’ don’t need an extra, luv.

"Mm." Simon said gruffly, looking down at Riley. She was sniffing Tyler's closed fist, then leaning back to stare up at Simon. She huffed in distaste.

He fought the urge to smirk. Good girl.

"What do you do, Simon?" Tyler asked, trying to be friendly.

Nina cleared her throat. He's milita-"

"Special Armed Services." Simon interrupted. "Ten years."

Tyler looked impressed. "Shit- that's tough, mate. Makes sense with how you- y'know..." he gestured to Simon's frame, then dropped his hands and cleared his throat. "Eh, nevermind."

"I's fine." Simon replied, standing a bit taller. "What d'you do?"

"Ah- heh, nothin' that impressive. Electrician."

Simon nodded, though it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. It was hard to completely emasculate a man when he did blue-collar work. And even harder when Tyler seemed to respect Simon. It was one thing to be an asshole to an asshole, but it was another to be an asshole to a decent man.

He had to reign himself in. Tyler was your boyfriend. Why was he trying to show the poor lad up after knowing him all for a minute and a half?

"Well, erm..." Leslie cut in. "Looks like you two need to get going, and we're nearly finished here." She smiled at Simon. "It was lovely meeting you!"

"Yeah mate!" Tyler said. "Nice to finally meet you!"

Simon paused for a moment. Normally, he would love to be ripped out of a conversation like this - but now, he'd suffer through the company of a few, annoying strangers if it meant he got to talk to you. But, he obliged, sensing that Leslie wanted him gone for a reason.

"Yeah, likewise." He said, giving Riley a pat, then he looked at you. "Might need you t' watch 'er soon, but I'll email you."

"I'll keep an eye out for it." You said with a flashy smile. "See you later, Simon!"

He grunted and nodded his head, then left them all at the table. Riley stayed dutifully by his side as they made their way through the crowd of cafe patrons.

Simon tried to smell your perfume for as long as it would cling to his shirt. Soon, the scents of coffee, sugar, and teas washed it out, and the lingering warmth your scent brought him had also vanished. The bitterness came right back into his throat, coating his tongue and making him grimace under his mask and his fists clench in his pockets.

Tyler seemed like a good man, and you were happy. He had no business feeling so possessive over something that wasn't his - something that belonged to someone else. He felt like he was missing a screw - his emotions were completely out of control, and he acted compulsively when it came to you. He told himself, as he walked out of the cafe and into the busy sidewalk, that the disappointment of discovering that you were Tyler's would be a good opportunity to work on himself.

He sighed, continuing down the path to the pub. Riley huffed as she trotted next to him, and he suddenly remembered the cup of whipped cream and the dog treat – most likely still abandoned on the condiment counter of the restaurant. “Don’ worry, girl, you can have some’f Johnny’s chips.”

Next ->

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #57

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends. 

Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about. 

Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision. 

Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort. 

Tonight wasn't planned.

Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two. 

Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?

When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for. 

“Mind opening it?” 

Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything. 

You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him. 

“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.

“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”

“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure. 

Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.

“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh. 

“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”

He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. 

You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”

“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully. 

Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head. 

“What did I say, too cocky.”

“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.

He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color. 

He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face. 

“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”

“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”

“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?” 

“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”

“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly. 

Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”

“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all. 

You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.

“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud. 

He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked. 

“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.

“You can?” you ponder.

“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”

“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.

“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it. 

You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.

“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.

You don't move. You can't.

All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.

Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times. 

Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.  

This is exactly what you were talking about.

Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day. 

Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being. 

But you couldn't take it. 

You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago. 

However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.

“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.

Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with. 

“I shouldn't feel this way.”

“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way. 

“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.

Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.

“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”

You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.

“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”

“Maya!”

You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.

“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”

That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.

Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.

Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you. 

Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?  

“Kook?” 

“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach. 

“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.

Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.

“Because you never told me what you think.”

Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time. 

“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up. 

“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens. 

Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again. 

“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”

“But do you agree with it?”

“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is. 

“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance. 

“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”

He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.

Did you get carried away too much? 

The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go. 

And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex? 

“Do you miss it?”

Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”

Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”

He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.

As if you don't know. And what a week it has been! 

You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.

“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”

You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.

“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin. 

A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on. 

“I had a sex dream of you.” 

Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”

You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”

It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.

“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”

“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering. 

“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response. 

Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”

“Nothing, you look good.”

For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”

He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”

Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is. 

“No.” 

You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?  

Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”

“Okay, I think you're drunk.”

“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”

“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions. 

No, you do.  

Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off. 

Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.

“I miss you.”

He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”

“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain. 

The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.

He is patient. 

He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more. 

He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.

“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”

“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”

And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.

“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.

He laughs, “I can imagine.”

Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”

You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still. 

Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”

Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it. 

“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh. 

Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach. 

“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”

Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”

You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his. 

He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.

“You agree?”

“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens. 

“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck. 

“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a  break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”

“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.

“Those fuck me eyes.”

“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”

“I did.” he hums, agreeing. 

“You want this too, right?”

He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust. 

Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.

Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow? 

“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”

“I'm never gonna regret this.”

You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.

He tastes like wine. You both do.

Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.

“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.

Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right? 

Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs. 

“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.

“Lay down.”

His brows raise momentarily. 

“I see.” he mutters knowingly. 

“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”

He cocks his brow at you.

“Take off the damn shirt.”

He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him. 

Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.

Fucking wine.

Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is. 

He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for. 

Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.

“Fuck no.”

The response is immediate. 

You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock. 

“Why not?”

“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest. 

It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new. 

You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans. 

He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes. 

“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.

“You don't have to ask.”

You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans. 

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”

His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet. 

Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs. 

“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”

“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise. 

Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch. 

“Y/N.” he warns you.

You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”

“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.” 

“I promise I won't do anything bad.” 

He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well. 

He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you. 

“What–”

“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”

He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”

“Really?”

Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning? 

In reality, you're just going with the flow. 

You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.

Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.

You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.

“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.

Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook. 

“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.” 

But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed. 

You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold. 

“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”

Or not.

You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head. 

“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly. 

While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs. 

“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”

“Already complaining?” you throw back. 

He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet. 

Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”

He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown. 

Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more. 

So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time. 

The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face. 

“What were you gonna do?” 

He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it. 

Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.

“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.

It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.

You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped. 

This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back. 

“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again. 

However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.

It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times. 

“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.

“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away. 

His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks. 

You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.

“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.” 

Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone. 

Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth. 

“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all. 

You're close.

You can't focus. 

Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit. 

“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”

Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard! 

You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for. 

“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint. 

And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk. 

He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth. 

“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin. 

“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”

Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek. 

“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”

Your eye almost twitches at that. 

“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”

Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing. 

You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.

Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.

Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing. 

Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.

So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of. 

All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.

“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you. 

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.” 

“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”

You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination. 

“I'm serious.”

But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you. 

“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”

“Oh, fuck.” 

You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now. 

“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust. 

“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”

“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”

If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.

“Come here,” he says softly.

Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world. 

You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too. 

His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.

You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.

“What?”

“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”

Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”

You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”

“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow. 

“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”

“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”

You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”

Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.

“And you know it's not about that.” you add.

“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”

“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking. 

“What did you say? One last time?”

“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”

“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”

Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”

“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.

“Try me.”

He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”

What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.

“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base. 

You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling. 

“Who's impatient now?”

“You're testing my patience right now.”

“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would! 

Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole. 

Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.

You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god. 

It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. 

Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.

You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.

“Baby?”

“You call me that too.”

“Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”

“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.

And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices. 

“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”

“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation. 

It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.

“What?”

“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”

“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk. 

You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.

“Yah!” 

You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”

“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief. 

“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.

You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you. 

“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot. 

You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath. 

“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder. 

He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you. 

“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens. 

Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.

“One last time, remember?"

“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”

You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.

“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”

“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.

“Please,” he says dryly.

You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.

He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!  

“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”

You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him. 

“This is what you wanted?”

“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”

He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing. 

“Fuck, baby.”

Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it. 

You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear. 

“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.

“Shut up,” you bite. 

“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.

“That's right, use me.”

“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”

“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”

“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.

A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries. 

Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.

“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle. 

You can.

Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.

“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.

“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.

He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”

Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right. 

“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.

Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.

“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”

You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for. 

“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”

“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.

As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun. 

While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up. 

You enjoy this while you can.

After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.

You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it. 

“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants. 

Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point. 

“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation. 

You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums. 

“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it. 

“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”

Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit. 

“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”

You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm. 

“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.

Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs. 

Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses. 

After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”

Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”

He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you. 

“Gonna uncuff me now?” 

“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists. 

As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.

“You enjoyed that?”

“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.

Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”

“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”

He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”

“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.

“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess. 

Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look. 

“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it. 

“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair. 

You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish. 

But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision. 

You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.

Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.

“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.

“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.

“Don't tell anyone that I–”

“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”

“Yah!”

Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.

“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”

You both laugh quietly. 

“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.

Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.

“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.

“Didn't you enjoy it?”

“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything. 

You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”

Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.

[calumfmu]

all in your head, but I want nonfiction.

You knew who you married to at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for everything and more you could've wanted. Everything except his time.

You were the woman of the house, responsible for the affairs over here. And the tattooed man lingering in the yard was the perfect thing to start with.

or; Steddie x reader. (business man!Steve, worker!Eddie, stay at home wife!reader) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (female and male receiving), fingering, back shots (yes pls), creampie, nipple sucking, threesome, mutual masturbation, slight hair pulling kink, use of the nickname Stevie, brief mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse, (7.7k+ words of pure smut)

It was three months this time, he had been gone. Six total, if you didn't count the two weeks that he was home in between trips. You were really starting to miss your husband, craving his presence, beginning to feel the emptiness of the house you were in.

"Greece is good this time of year," Steve commented, face blurred on the FaceTime call. You hummed, swirling the glass of Cabernet in your hand.

"Yeah, I wouldn't know," you teased, smacking your tongue against your teeth. A quirk of his eyebrow thrown in your direction, the screen lagging slightly as his mouth moved before the words could come out. You often did this, poked fun at the situation, but as of late, the truth has started to leak through the cracks of your words.

"Babe, you know I have to-"

And in that second, the call ended in three abrupt beeps, 'Called Failed' appearing in his place. With a sigh, you threw your phone aside, used to this type of instance occurring. As much money as your husband made, you could barely get the time to speak to him during this time of the year, his service always being the worst or calls being rushed or interruptions always happening.

You knew who you married at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for the roof of the mansion over your head, making you a stay at home wife, supplying you with everything you could ever want without even having to voice that. Everything except his time. In the mean time, you’ve buried your time with drinking, book clubs on top of book clubs, expensive dinners alone, and loads of ogling at the men in town you could look at, but not touch.

Seeing your husband, touching your husband only a total of three times in the past half year was an aching feeling, loneliness creeping in at the worst times of the day. Time passed so slowly, it was hard to imagine even seeing him again some days.

You started at the window, gripping the wine glass at your hand as you reached for the decanter perched on the window sill. The sound of the alcohol pouring into the glass filled the room, your wandering eyes searching through the yard for anything to entertain you.

Bingo.

A tall man, curly hair long and pulled back into a bun. Short sleeved, white shirt tight against his frame as he paraded through the grass, boots stopping every now and then as he glanced at the plants in the garden. Your brow furrowed as the confusion set in, wondering who this man was in your yard and yet so interested in learning who he is.

You tapped on the window loudly, knuckles rapping against the pane of the glass as you tried getting his attention.

“Hey!” You called, waving your arm in the air in between knocks.

The man in your yard heard something, his own face turning up as he looked around himself. His eyes searched the grass area before glancing up, settling on your figure displayed through the glass.

“What are you doing?” You shouted, aware that there wasn’t a chance he heard what you were saying. To confirm your suspicions, his hand rose to shield his eyes, the sun glaring down at him as he stared up at you.

He mouthed something, shrugging his shoulders as the two of you held eye contact.

“What are you-” You cut yourself off with a huff, turning on one heel to march downstairs, intent on swearing up a storm, telling him to get off of your property before your husband has something to say about it. And even if the likelihood of getting said husband even on the phone was low, this stranger truly didn’t have to know.

The silk robe you wore flowed in the air as you made yourself way down the stairs, one hand still gripping your wine glass, the other pinching it closed, lounge wear not exactly appropriate for the interaction you were about to have. The four minutes it took you to trek through the house and out the door had you praying he had disappeared, become a figment of your imagination by now.

Double doors swinging open, you stepped out onto the porch, your own hand raising above your eyebrows to block out the UV rays.

To your luck (or despair), he was still there, crouched down as he looked at the array of sprinkler systems.

“What are you doing?” You accused, stepping out further of the house as he shot up in your direction. Surprise was written all over his face, deep lines appearing on his forehead.

“Hi, ma’am, I’m—”

“You have about three seconds to get off of my property,” you tightened the robe around your chest, noticing the way his eyes dipped to explore the expanse of your chest shown.

“Ma’am, I’m—”

“My husband’s going to be home any moment,” A lie. And you both knew it by the way his eyes squinted a little. You doubled down. The wine was starting to take effect. “And he’ll have you arrested. We know the chief.”

An amused smirk passed on his face, smugness oozing from his features. He waited a beat, eyes twinkling with humor.

“Are you finished?”

Your mouth dropped open, shock written all your face. The mocking, you definitely weren’t used to it. You hated to lean into the spoiled stay at home wife trope, but you were used to people folding at you, kissing your ass based on the family that you happened to marry into.

“Excuse m—”

“I’m friends with Steve,” he spit out, smiling even wider at the wide eyes you gave him. “Eddie. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

His hand shot out to shake yours, dropping slowly as you just stared down at it. You could drop the act now, realizing that this man had to have been telling the truth. You hadn’t heard anyone call your husband by his first name in years, ‘Harrington’ being the only calling card.

You took a sip of the dark alcohol in your grasp, glancing away from him as you rested a hand on your hip. His eyes chose to linger over your body, cleavage exposed through your lounge wear. Huffing, you pulled the cover up closed once more, warmth tinging your cheeks.

“And your business here is? If you knew Steve, you would know he doesn’t just invite friends over.”

“Oh, uhm,” Eddie took a step closer to you, standing side to side as he began to point over the yard. You suddenly noticed the clipboard and phone in his other hand. “I’m the new groundsman, taking over the landscaping, plans for the new yard, the whole lot.”

Ah. That did sound somewhat familiar, mentioned somewhere between the bottles of Dom Perignon you and your best friend shared the other week over a FaceTime call with Steve.

He turned towards you again, his eyes wandering for the thousandth time. You couldn’t tell if the heat was making your robe slip a little looser or if the wine was truly getting to you.

“You must be the wife,” Eddie smiled, toothy grin settling over his face as he held eye contact. In the length of this interaction, the sun has began to dip lower in the sky. You got a good look at him, not seeing any obvious similarities on how he would be friends with your husband, in any universe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Define a lot,” another sip of your wine down the hatch. The double pour was nearly gone by now.

“Woman of the house.” He took a step closer to you, pushing the clipboard down in front of him. “Takes care of things for Stevie over here.” The tone of his voice shifted. “Could get terribly lonely sometimes.”

The concept of looking and not touching was getting a little harder for you. Gasping, you turned towards the house, downing the last of your beverage.

“I’m going to get more.”

You took a few steps towards the house before briefly turning your body to him. He was watching your movements, head tilted to the side slightly as he stared down at the sway of your hips.

“Are you coming or not?”

He was quick on his feet, tracking you on your heels as the two of you made your way up the grand entrance. The coolness of the house, covered in marble and white instantly taming the heat taking over your body. Eddie let out a low whistle, his neck craning up to stare at the high ceilings, chandelier hanging above the entry way. Everything about the place was pristine and huge, money screaming even the gloss of paint covering from the walls.

The sound of his boots were loud following your bare feet, making his way into the kitchen behind you.

“Nice one, Steve,” Eddie laughed to himself, shaking his head. You went over to the wine rack on one end of the kitchen, ripping off a bottle without even glancing at the label. Another crystal glass followed, you placing it in front of the man before you.

His finger was running along the marble countertops, his eyes wide as he studied the detail. Just as you went to pour a glass for him, his hand shot out.

“Oh no, hun. I can’t do wine,” he rushed, a smile on his face. You ignored the nickname, hand paused as the bottle was tilted in the air. Staring up at him, your face was emotionless.

“Sober?”

He opened his mouth to speak, cutting himself off with a laugh. “Not exactly. Just makes me… a little reckless,” he finished, placing the clipboard down on the counter.

A smirk of your own crossed your lips before you poured the glass anyways, sliding it over to him once a hefty serving was in front of you. He shook his head as he reached for it despite his own words, swallowing down a gulp.

The two of you stood in silence, devious looks in your eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in the white shirt he wore, how it hugged him just right. It felt wrong, thinking of your husband’s friend like this. It had been so long since any type of male interaction, you couldn’t help but feel tempted.

“Babe?”

You jumped where you stood, your topped off glass fumbling in your fingertips. Your best friend appearing around the corner, her loafers sounding out through the corridors.

“Robin, Jesus Christ—”

She stopped just as she rounded the corner, eyes darting in between the two of you. The look she gave you made you speechless, her all knowing eyes saying everything she needed to.

“And you are…?”

Eddie put down his glass, a glance thrown in your direction once more before he took a few steps towards Robin. She squared up her shoulders, amusement on her face.

“Leaving,” he smiled, passing her. You and the other girl in the room watched him making his way over to the main corridor. He turned to you one last time before disappearing. “Mrs. Harrington, it was a pleasure, hun.”

He disappeared, a wink thrown in your direction. Your breath caught in your throat at his last move, shaky hands bringing the glass of alcohol to your lips.

“Hun??” Robin questioned once the front door slammed behind him. She came to your side, eyebrows raised behind her wispy bangs. “Hun!”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed the fingers away from you as she pulled on the hem of your robe.

“Rob—please.”

“Uh uh, babe. We’re going to talk about this,” she laughed, taking the glass from your fingertips. She took her own swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

A dead pan look covered her. “All I’m saying is Harrington better watch out. He’s got some competition.”

You laughed bitterly at her words, taking a seat at one of the bar chairs. It was cool against your exposed legs, the heat from the moment finally drifting from them.

“Well, Harrington,” you mocked the last name she used, the both of you realizing if anyone had the right to call him Steve, it was her. “Was the one who hired him, new house job or whatever.”

“Consider that a gift,” she shrugged, laughing loudly as you shoved her shoulder. Heat pooled at your cheeks (and between your legs).

“Robin!”

“I’m just saying! He probably put an ad in the paper or something: Lonely Housewife Looking to Fuck.”

You dropped your head in your hands, laughter bubbling out at her words. She couldn’t get more ridiculous than this. A gasp left your mouth, your eyes peaking between the spaces of your fingers as you looked at her.

She was looking at the clipboard he had forgotten, a scrap of paper on top of the various items.

“I’d dust off the cobwebs, babe,” she giggled, sliding over the board to you. You peaked down at what was written, your heart racing at the scribble next to his number.

‘For the lonely wife. We could talk business. xx Eddie.’

It had gotten interesting the last few weeks, the second story window becoming your favorite spot to watch Eddie work in the yard. The sweltering heat was your best friend behind the AC of your home, choosing to enjoy the way Eddie looked in the Indiana heat. Tight tank tops, tattoos exposed, hair pulled to the back of his head with loose curls framing his face.

He barked off orders to his crew, always cracking jokes with them, teeth bared in a grin. He was clearly a joy to be around, spreading humor to even you from yards away.

It was a cat and mouse game you could call it, Eddie clearly showing off his muscles and sex appeal while you played the other side, risking just how little of clothing you could get away with inside the comfort of your own home. You passed in front of windows, dropping the shoulders of your silk robes as you pretended to get distracted, bending over to grab ‘forgotten’ items on the floor.

You knew he knew what you were doing. He was aware of it the entire time, his own smiles thrown in your direction as you began to push your limits of what could be acceptable for looking, and not touching.

The shrill ringing of the FaceTime call brought you out of your observations, Steve’s contact appearing on screen. You slid open the call, smiling brightly when his face appeared, styled hair, button down open, exposing that silver chain and his chest full of hair.

“There’s my handsome boy,” you beamed, blowing a kiss to the screen. Steve smiled brightly, pressing his lips to the camera.

“And my beautiful wife,” he cooed, holding up the camera wide to give you a view of him. He was on a coast somewhere, Mediterranean. The view was beautiful, waves crashing as the sun was nearly gone from the sky.

“What are you up to, my love?”

You glanced out the window at Eddie, noticing his crew was gone. He stood alone in the center of the yard, taking a look at the landscaping design prints.

“Just… relaxing,” you let the camera show you resting against the window seat in your room, lingerie on display. The camera only showed a flash of your cleavage before you brought the camera back up, a shy, yet devious look on your face.

“What do y—oh.”

It was quick, the way Steve moved. Your phone screen showed a blur of Steve’s clothing, the sound of his footsteps, and the sliding of a glass door before he was shown again on the screen, his hair fanning out on a pillow on a bed.

“Tell me more.”

From the angle, you could tell that Steve had began to touch himself at the thought of you. You showed more of yourself, manicured hand beginning to run down your chest, trailing down your stomach to rest on the front of your panties.

It had been months since you last did this over the phone, the timing always so wrong or one of you not in the mood or always something.

“Thinking of you, Steve.”

It couldn’t be a lie if you were omitting part of the truth. He didn’t need to know you were thinking about Eddie as well.

“Fuck.”

The phone dropped against his chest, showing black before he picked it up again, a flushed look on his face. You giggled slightly, spreading your legs against the window bench as you showed more of yourself. Your hand slipped down the front of your underwear, teasing slightly as you ran the pads of your fingertips against your clit.

“Wish I was there with you, baby,” Steve sighed, eyes closed as slick noise began to be heard through the phone. You brushed your clit harder, whimpering as you thought of your husband touching himself to the thought of you.

Glancing out the window, Eddie was still distracted, back turned towards you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you dipped a finger lower, entering yourself.

“I miss you so much, Steve,” a whine left your throat. He let out a shuddered moan.

“You miss me, baby?”

Nodding, you pushed in another finger, the sound of your own slick filling your eyes. Pleasure began to course through you, an ache settling at your core.

“What do you miss the most?”

His tooth was dug into his bottom lip, a fucked out look on his face from his own hand. You could only imagine how he was feeling, achingly hard across the world from his wife who just looked so tempting.

“I miss your—fuck Steve—I miss your cock,” a whimper fell from you, your chest heaving as your fingers crooked against that spot deep inside you. You weren’t going to last long, this feeling had been building inside you for weeks.

“Oh my G—”

Steve’s side of the phone fell once again, a loud groan heard before the call dropped, the dial tone loud in the room. Tears pricked in your eyes as you tossed your phone to the side, leaning your head against the window as you looked down in the yard once more, fingers moving swiftly in and out of your wetness.

You had an audience now.

Eddie was staring up at you, look of shock on his face as he held the plans in his hand. A look from him alone was all you needed before coming, pussy throbbing around your digits, legs squeezing shut.

It was the most intense orgasm you had in a while, your body tensing up with release as pleasure washed over you. It took a moment before you came to, fingers leaving your core as you brushed once, twice more over your clit, riding out the feeling.

You didn’t have the nerve to look outside again, shame washing over you as you realized what had just happened.

Phone ringing once again, your shaky hand reached over the grab it, answering it to see Steve, face flushed and lip bitten red on the other end.

“I’m sorry, baby—This fucking service over here, I’m sorry,” he rushed, eyes apologetic. That puppy dog look you fell for was staring at you, grainy as his phone struggled to keep up. “Did you—”

You barely nodded, eyes hooded while you came down from your high.

“Babe, it’s okay.”

“No, I just—I’m sorry.”

“Steve,” he cut off his rambling as you gave him a stern look. You really did run things around the Harrington home. “I’m okay, really.”

“I love you.”

You smiled, blowing him another kiss. “I love you t-”

A male’s voice called from his end of the phone, immediately distracting both you and your husband. Sighing, you knew what was coming.

His face was sincere as he turned back to you, lips fixed in a pout.

“I gotta—”

You waved him off, sitting up slightly as you closed the silk around your frame. “Yeah, yeah, go handle business, Harrington.”

That’s why he loved you. No matter how much this truly did affect you, and how much you wished you could have more than a 10 minute call, you always were so supportive. He did support the lifestyle that you always dreamed of, even if it did come with certain circumstances that weren’t ideal.

“I love you, baby.” He moved to hang up the phone, pausing before ending the call. “Tell Ed I said hey, by the way.”

You swore your heart stopped beating in that moment as he left.

You had resorted to staying inside, avoiding Eddie and his crew that occupied your lawns during the day hours. The deep insides of your home without windows facing them became your isolation points. It was everything and more for you to avoid him, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach.

You'd even gone as far as avoiding Robin and her prying eyes. She had known something was going on with you, felt it deep in her soul. That woman knew you like the back of her hand, could recognize every shift of emotion you'd experience, knew something had gone down between the two of you even if touching wasn't necessarily involved.

("Is there something wrong, babe? You've barely touched your Pomerol." The eye roll you gave her could win awards.)

It was like something shifted in the air, grey clouds pulling in and thunder rumbling so hard, you could feel it in your chest. The next time you happened to pass in front of the foyer window you had seen that Eddie and his crew were quickly gone, not expecting the change in weather events.

Relaxation began to sag its relief at your shoulders, no longer feeling like a prisoner in your own home. It was a long time coming, you hadn't felt this much relief in your system since that after that Hargrove heir you briefly dated back in '06.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, Robin's image immediately popping up into your mind. It was probably time for her to finally confront you, bring Steve into it somehow and blame the Benzos for acting the way you had been lately. (It had nothing to do with it.)

You threw open the door, the weight of it slightly swinging your body. Your eyes didn't meet the person at first, an infamous eye roll already on the verge, "Rob, I don’t want to t—Oh."

It was Eddie in all his glory, T-shirt glued to his body from the rain that began to pour, curls beginning to hang loosely from the bun he wore, cheeks red and flushed. He breathed heavy upon seeing you, a smile ghosting his lips.

"Hi, hun," his voice was low, a slight hint of something in it.

You didn't know what to say, glancing behind you as if there was anyone to catch you for even thinking terrible thoughts. His eyes followed yours.

"Well, can I come in?"

"Oh." You swung the door a little wider, cringing at the way his work boots tracked in water from outside.

He shook out his hair like a dog, the droplets dampening you from afar. You didn't have the nerve to say anything to him, gobsmacked from the fact he was in front of you like a Greek God, beautiful as ever, but tempting in the worst way possible.

"I got stuck outside... truck wouldn't start," he explained, looking around the house as if it were the first time that he was in here. The realization of the scene in front of you finally caught up, you rushing to action to try and be the welcoming host that you always were.

"I think... here, come, Steve should have something you could change into," you said, beginning to lead him upstairs. You stopped at the base of the spiral staircase, pointing at his boots. "You better not."

He beamed at your words, quirking his eyebrow at you as if you said the funniest thing ever. Toeing them off quietly, he then followed your lead to your upstairs bedroom. He stared at you all while doing it, the tension in the room growing even at the thought of him undressing even slightly.

The track there felt like you were walking the green mile, Eddie close behind you as you lead him to the walk-in closet. He was silent, the only sounds of his breathing giving him away.

Back to him, you opened the panel hiding Steve's lounging clothes, rows of white and creme and pastel materials appearing. You felt his presence behind you, something like a predator creeping on its prey.

"I think he's—what are you, a size f—" Your breath hitched on your throat as you felt his fingers touch your forearms, guiding your hands down from the clothing.

His lips brushed the cartilage of your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him finally touching you.

His hand trailed up your arm, snaking around your exposed neck, a light kiss being pressed to the skin in front of your ear. You leaned your head back against him, a cut off groan leaving you as you relished in this moment.

"I've been waiting on this, hun," He whispered, reaching one hand down to your waist to pull you flush against him.

You gasped at the feeling of him against your backside, his body just as firm as you expected. The other hand cupped against the bottom of your chin, tilting your head back even further so his lips could press into the junction of your neck.

"You've looked so good," he continued. "So tempting."

Your hands reached up to grab at his arm, your ass pushing even further into him. He walked backwards with you in his grasp, falling against the large ottoman in the center of the closet. It was big enough to seat the two of you, his large frame sprawled in the center of it while you sat petite in his lap, legs on either side of his, back pressed into his chest.

"I can't believe Stevie leaves you here. All alone. So vulnerable."

A whimper left your mouth as he leaned back slightly, pulling you with him. The hand that was once around your waist snaked down to your front, dipping down into the front of your silk sleep shorts.

"Eddie." You whimpered, his name coming out in a choke as he ghosted over your clit.

He was teasing in his movements, bringing you right to the precipice of pleasure. The second he got close to pressing down firm and just right, he would remove his touch, only to ghost down lower to tease your dampening hole.

"What do you need?"

You groaned, spreading your legs further as he continued in his movements. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you wanted to refuse to give in, refuse to have yourself beg for him. But it had been months after all, the only human touch you'd experience was from yourself.

"I need you."

It was a quiet whine into the room, almost inaudible behind the heavy breathing. That one word was all that he needed, his hand fully pressing into your cunt, swirling your clit in a way that had your head spinning.

The choked sob that left your mouth earned a groan of his own, loud and just as wanting as your own. Your head was leaned back against him, your neck exposed, mouth wide open and turned towards the ceiling.

Eddie's mouth was sucking and licking along your neck, his heavy breathing tickling at your spine as he dipped a finger to press into you, thumb circling your clit. The digit stretched you wide, wetness pooling down onto his hand.

"You get this wet just for me?"

Your hips were grinding against his hand, wanting more from him as he finger fucked you.

"Eddie please."

"I know, hun, I know." He removed his hand from you, standing you up and off his lap. You whimpered at the loss of contact, squeezing your legs together as he was sprawled in front of you.

He reached his hands towards you, stopping at the hem of your tank top to pull it up and over you, exposing your naked breasts to him. A glimmer of arousal appeared in his eyes, his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he stared at your chest, hand reaching up to cup at the globes. Leaning up, he took one nipple into his mouth from his seated position, licking and sucking at the hardened nub.

It was like you found yourself in heaven, sudden pleasure finding you all at once. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pulled him into your chest even further, whining at the contact of his mouth on your skin.

He traded onto the other nipple, squeezing the abandoned one between his fingers. He moaned in between the loud sucking, making a show of how much he loved the taste of you.

Pulling away, his fingers found the hem of your shorts. The material pooled down at your feet, your stark nakedness becoming apparent in the giant room against his clothed body.

He drank you in, his eyes roaming your body as you stood in front of him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief.

He reached down to his pants, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding down the zipper ever so slowly. It was torture, watching him undress himself, the slide of his jeans down his legs, dropping down to his ankles with his boxers to follow.

He pulled his shirt over his head, spreading his legs wide as he leaned back on the ottoman. His cock was fully free, springing to full attention as he took a hold of it. Dropping your eyes down to ogle at the sheer beauty of it, head dripping wet with precum, long and thick with a vein running down the middle.

Eddie smirked at your fascination, ushering you closer to him with the curve of his finger.

You took a seat on his lap, legs caging him in as you settled over his cock, head pressing at your entrance. As he pressed in slightly, your eyes bulged slightly, realizing that in no way you were not prepared for his size.

His lips pursed into a shushing motion, "Shh, hun, it's okay."

He guided your hips down onto him, pressing deep into you. The feeling of his cock split you wide open, a strained moan pouring out of you. Your fingers wrapped around his neck, gripping at him to ease the stretch you were feeling.

Giving you only a second of breathing time, he gripped at your waist, urging you up and down on his shaft, thrusting into you shallowly.

He hit you deep, hitting every spot you forgot was inside of you, pleasure creeping through your body.

"F-fuck Eddie," your moans were load in the room, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass growing louder as he became more brutal in his movement.

Pulling you against him, he slotted his lips with yours, harshly nipping at the skin, sinking his teeth into your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth. You were lost in the pleasure, soaking wet around him as he fucked into you.

His fingers were splayed across your hips, dipping onto the curve of your ass as you bounced on his cock. Your orgasm was approaching quick, a lot quicker than you had imagined.

"You wanna cum for me, babe?" He mouthed against you, lips not leaving yours as your vision began to fog.

The curve of his cock hit your spongey wall repeatedly, urging completion suddenly. Your body began to tense up, legs shaking as you approached your high, cock-drunk on this feeling.

"Eds, I'm go—"

Your orgasm washed over you, tensing your spine as he fucked you through it, clit throbbing as it brushed that thatch of hair as the base of his cock. He was quick to follow, pulling out just in time to come over you, painting white over the bottom of your stomach.

It was messy, dripping over the two of you as the come down approached you. You took a moment, breathing deeply as your eyes briefly shut, head falling against his shoulder while you relaxed into him.

He was breathless, wrapping his arms around you to settle into your lap.

"I've been waiting on this a while," he admitted, sighing deep into your neck. You nodded at his words, agreeing, yet speechless for the mind-blowing orgasm you had just experienced.

He leaned back, pressing a small kiss to your mouth before looking into your eyes, head leaning against your own.

"Round two? I could use a shower."

He laughed at your words, shock evident in his eyes at your boldness, but jumping at the opportunity, throwing your body over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

As the dreary weather settled outside, you couldn't be more thankful for the turn of events. There was a long night ahead of you.

The morning light crept through the drawn curtains, your naked body sprawled out against the white sheets. Drawing slowly into consciousness, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, reaching beside you.

The bed was cold, Eddie's figure obviously missing from your side for who knows how long.

Memories of last night came flooding back to you, the positions that he had you in bringing out the soreness in your body. There were visions of you propped up against the shower wall, your legs thrown over his shoulders, pressed to your chest, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, until you couldn't give any more.

Draping the bed sheet around your naked body, you sat up in bed, perking up at the smell of fresh coffee brewing. There was a skip in his step as you heard him coming down the hall, energy coming back to you as you imagined what was to come, breakfast in bed, getting bent in between courses.

Your smile dropped from your face as you saw him, large cup in hand as he made his way into the room. Steve.

His perfectly styled brown hair, that charming smile as he stared at you, raising his eyebrows as he saw you relaxed in bed. Your nakedness seemed like a lot, even in the privacy of your own shared bedroom.

"There's my girl," he smiled, placing the mug down on the bedside table before leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. Your hand subconsciously came up to cover the side of your neck, dark purple bruises had to have been there from the events of last night.

"S-Steve, what are you doing here?"

He fake pouted, a scoff leaving his mouth. "Three months, and that's all you got?"

The sudden realization that your husband was right here hit you, a smile crossing your features as you wrapped your arms around him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing loudly as you attacked him with kisses, your lips covering every inch of skin that you could find.

"Relax, relax," he cackled, pressing his own kisses to you in between attacks.

Pulling away, he took a good look at you, the most loving smile covering his face. Guilt found you, pooling deep in your chest and the pit of your stomach. Your loving husband, being away to support you, only to come home and find his wife in this position, a classic case of infidelity.

"Steve," your voice fell short as you stared into his auburn eyes. His brow furrowed, his thumb coming up to swipe at your eyebrow, smoothing the crinkled skin.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I just—" Cue the dramatics. Tears began to well in your eyes as you processed the situation, he didn't deserve this. There was nothing he could do to calm you down, the hitching of your breath in your throat, the choked sob leaving your mouth as you struggled over the words to say.

"Did you miss me that much?"

You choked even harder at his words, pulling you into his arms as your vision became blurry. It was getting even worse for you.

"Baby..." There was a warning tone in his words, his patience growing thin as you wouldn't let up. You brought yourself together, hiccuping slightly as you stared up into his eyes. Your mouth opened and closed, the words to say leaving you.

You didn't need to say anything as his eyes finally decided to trail lower than your face, noticing the dark bruises forming along the side of your neck. His eyebrows raised slightly as the rest of his face remained emotionless, his thumb tracing over the skin.

"I don't know what to say," you said, hanging your head away from him. You couldn't look him in the eyes as he studied the hickies left behind from Eddie.

"I see you got my present," he whispered, running the pad of his finger over your neck.

Your head shot up to look at him, eyes wide and confused.

"You-what are you...? Steve—what?" You didn't know what to say to him, confused on what was even happening right now. He was so stoic, you couldn't read him. His eyes found yours, humor in his eyes.

"Eddie. My present."

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words, memories of the past few weeks knowing the mentioned man passing through your mind. Realization hit you, knowing that this man in front of you was so calculated, everything had to have been him.

"Why didn't you say anything!" You wanted to kill him, but wanted to kiss him at the same time.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he shrugged, smirking at you as relief crossed over your face. You wiped the hot tears that had streaked your cheeks, embarrassed of the thought you could even betray him.

"How did you even—are you sure this wasn't a test I just failed?"

He laughed at your words, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I promise, baby."

You sighed in relief as he kissed you, fingers underneath your chin to pull you closer into him. Kissing this man felt like a dream that would've never came true, a surprise of your life time brought to its fullest extent.

His mouth was as soft as you remembered, taste as sweet as the last time. All those months of anticipation were worth the wait, feeling like it was truly nothing.

He leaned over your body, pressing you down into the mattress as the sheet began to fall away from your body. With your fingers pulling open the button down he wore, his chest became exposed, firm muscle rippling underneath your touch.

"You beat me to it, Stevie."

A gasp left you as you pulled away from your husband, head craning towards the door. Eddie stood in the frame, white bath towel draped loosely over his hips, hair dripping wet from a shower. He took in the sight of the two of you tangled on the bed, Steve's shirt hanging half off of him, the sheet gone from your body.

Glancing up at the man above you, you saw the smirk he was giving Eddie, canines exposed. It was like you were looking at someone completely different from the man you've known for years, an evil, sexually driven person in front of you.

"You going to stand there, Munson or...?"

With a smirk of his own, he was headed over to you two, towel dropping from his body. His cock was already hard and heavy between his legs, dripping with anticipation as he threw himself on the bed. Immediately, his hands found your body, headed straight towards your hard nipples with his mouth quick to follow.

A strangled moan escaped you as the shock settled over, Steve leaning up on his knees to get rid of his pants.

The belt was thrown across the room, his eyes not leaving the two of you once as he undressed.

"Wait—" You breathed, pushing Eddie off of you. The two men stared down at you, scared of your next move, that you would end whatever this was right now. You looked towards Steve, eyebrows raised. "Are you okay with this?"

Steve's eyebrows raised as he glanced in between the two of you, his hand pulling his dick out of his boxers, pushed down to his thigh. Your eyes dropped down to take view, mouth watering at the sight.

"Let's just say... we have a history of sharing."

He winked at Eddie before diving between your legs, nose immediately pressed to your cunt. You didn't have time to even think about what he said, figuring that it was a topic to explore at a much later time.

His tongue quickly found your clit, circling the nub before licking up the length of your slit. Your thighs squeezed the side of his head, a whine filling the room as Eddie sat up to stare at the show. His own hand tangled in Steve's mane, pulling him closer to you as he sopped you up. The groan he let out vibrated against your core, urging another wave of wetness out of you.

"F-fuck Ste-"

You couldn't even get the words out as his finger pressed at your hole, pushing in a single digit. It curled against your wall, pressing into your pleasure point. Your head was thrown back into the pillows against the headboard, white hot pleasure tingling at your spine.

Eddie leaned down to lick at your nipple, eyes intently watching Steve suck at your cunt, chin growing more wet from your juices.

"Baby-please-"

He nodded, glancing up to make eye contact with the two of you. Not moving, he inserted another finger into you, moving at a faster pace. You whimpered even louder, spreading your legs wider to get him deeper inside of you.

"You want to share?" Eddie laughed, sitting up to stroke at his hard cock. A pearl of white beaded at the tip, squeezed out by the cuff of his hand.

Steve smirked around your clit, pulling away at the retort as he pulled you up to meet him. Turning you around, you were maneuvered to your hands and knees, ass pressed into the air. He ran the head of his cock against your hole, dragging it up over your ass and back down to your cunt, pressing at the sensitive hole.

Hissing at the feeling, you were still sore from the multiple rounds you went with Eddie the previous night.

"You had her all night, 's my turn, Munson," Steve breathed, pressing to the hilt in a smooth motion. The two of you groaned as he fully pressed into you. He paused in his movements, hand pressed to the small of your back as you both adjusted.

Eddie shrugged, moving in front of you with his legs splayed wide open, hand stroking his shaft.

You knew what to do, leaning down onto your elbows to take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking at it. His hand gripped the back of your head, pushing you down farther than you expected. The gag that left your mouth filled the room, catching Steve off guard as his hips stuttered inside of you.

"Watch it," he hissed, pausing only slightly before pulling out and pressing back in all the way. His cock had a curve in it, damn near pressing into your cervix as he fucked you.

Eddie was smirking, hand still on your head as you began to bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

You were so filled on both ends, you were seeing stars. Both men in your presence were making you feel like you had lost it, the heavy alcohol consumption over the past few months maybe had really gotten to you.

Your hand trailed off of Eddie's dick, dropping down to cup at his balls, rolling them between your fingers. Eddie's head fell against the headboard, his hips stuttering as you took him into your mouth.

With every thrust of Steve's hips, you were rocked into the tattooed man in front of you, choking down further and further. It was all becoming a little too much, both holes being filled beyond your limits.

"Just like that, baby, fuck," Steve moaned, hand inching up your spine to rest at the top of your spine. He leaned over, forcing your legs a little wider so his cock pressed even further into you. His hand found the base of your neck, pushing your head even further onto Eddie.

The motion had Eddie groaning, hips suddenly spilling as he came, warm liquid spurting down your throat. It had you choking, pulling off of him in time for it to spill out of your mouth, dripping back down onto him. The entire moment was so dirty, so filthy, it caused a chain reaction, Steve pressing into you once, twice more before cumming deep.

You pulsed around him, squeezing tight as your own orgasm took over you. For a split moment, you think you passed out, vision blurring, going black briefly before you came to, laying down on your stomach, legs shaking.

Your hand came to wipe at your eyes, tears pooling at the corners from the high you just experienced. There was no way you were coming down from this, the purest form of pleasure you think you'd ever experienced.

Eddie was leaning against the headboard, cock swelling down after his spend, his hand running over your skin as you leaned against his thigh. Steve was half way on you, his own breath catching from the high.

"You okay there, hun?"

Eddie's voice was raspy, his eyes wandering over you and your husband. Nodding, you threw him a shaky thumbs up, not finding the words to even utter a syllable.

Steve laughed, running his hand over your spine. It found the base of your spine, squeezing the globe of your ass.

"I think she will be after a few more rounds."

nothing more. all I have to say on this. hope you guys enjoyed this lengthy piece of pure smut. lol xx

masterlist. <3

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny!

I’ve been wanting to try the bakery and finally got around to it!

Could I get savory pastry(norris!reader), pull-apart bread, and root beer with carlos sainz!

the menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's still open (yay)! and i working away on orders, so please feel free to submit your own! we're open 6 days a week! i hope you love this order, anon! thank you for submitting it! i hope you're okay with me making the reader have.. big titties... i wanted to yearn for big titties tonight..

savory pastry ("let your brother find out.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + root beer (filming/recording) served by carlos sainz jr. (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, norris!reader, possessive behavior, mean!carlos, filming, ditzy!reader, soft!reader, implied mid to plus size!reader, sorry lando, unprotected sex, breast worship

rivals come and go. if carlos really hated someone however, he wouldn't fuck their sibling. carlos wasn't out fucking max's sister or one of charles' brothers, that was stupid and childish. it was a mind game reserved for people who thought they were smart

but that was until he saw your knelt down in the paddock trying the laces of your pretty pink sneakers and when you stood back up a slight breeze pushed up your skirt. and carlos caught the briefest glimpse of your panties. cotton, pink with little flowers on it. carlos stopped in his tracks, he hadn't realized the can of celcius he had was now on the floor.

you didn't notice his leering gaze, but instead burst into smiles when you went over and wrapped your arms around lando. he held you not like a lover, but like a sibling. oh, you were lando's fabled sister, the one who went to school in the middle of nowhere. was it canada? not that it mattered.

you could've been studying pottery in utah for all carlos cared, because he wanted one thing. those full breasts in his hands.

he remembered the first time he held them in his hands. the weight to them made his eyes bug out a little bit. it was about three months into the season and carlos was starting to feel the itch for sex. a lot of drivers got it, that was a lot of the reason why significant others would fly out for that weekend. but carlos has his right hand, something his left hand if he was feeling adventurous.

and one thing led to another and he ended up in your hotel room for the night. and then you were in his the next weekend, then followed by you in the ferrari motor home. eventually your behind was as red as the ferrari shirt that carlos got for you. he liked how the long was a little stretched across your pretty tits.

the rational thing would've been to tell your brother, lando. drivers dated other driver's siblings all the time! sometimes drivers dated other drivers, but carlos wouldn't get into those details. but something kept him reserved by telling the other driver.

you on the other hand were nervous about telling him. lando had scared off every boyfriend you had since your teens. you remembered when he chased a guy who had a crush on you off your family's front lawn with a hose. if lando found out about carlos....

"what if he finds out?" you squeak when he pulled you to ferrari's side of the paddock, you almost falling over yourself as you tried to keep up with him.

he shrugged, "let your brother find out."

your ferrari t-shirt (a gift from carlos) made you fit in nicely with the others on that side of the paddock. and carlos made sure that no one was looking when he got you into the driver's room. when he got the door closed and locked, he flipped up your pretty skirt. something a little more muted to go with the ferrari shirt, but short and carlos wanted to get his hands on you.

you ended up on the couch with carlos not even taking off the thing, only your panties underneath. he could feel the excitement in his blood stream. your knees up to your chest and your ankles in the air. carlos got his phone out after he got his cock out of his tight jeans.

"sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry." he said as he angled the phone towards your sweet cunt. it felt so good to be balls deep inside of you. even if it was messy quick sex.

carlos liked to film your encounters together. he liked to record your little noises, even if it was just recording your noises together. something to play back when he was alone. sadly, you couldn't be at every race. but carlos was hoping in a few years that would change.

he got his cock into you with ease. one hand on your clothed breast and the other on the phone. he got good shots of your pussy and face. he watched it change on the screen as he moved against you.

you tensed up for a moment then relaxed and carlos felt the cotton in his brain grow. he got addicted to your fast. he continued to grope your breasts as he moved against your achy slit. your legs kicked out a little and carlos pushed himself closer to you. he pointed the camera at the both of you and chuckled at the lenses.

"future carlos, remember this?" then started to lazily make out with you. you giggled as well. you knew those videos were often safe on his phone.

you squirmed a little bit and carlos put his face between your clothes breasts and rubbed his face up against them. he groaned against your heartbeat before he pulled away and got the camera right in your face before he leaned back a little bit to film your beautiful cunt taking him so well.

you yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hands. he pout the camera in your face as he asked quietly, "so pretty. so good for me. i think about you all the time." he said almost sweetly.

you looked up at the camera, finding a moment to compose yourself before you said, "i love you."

he smiled down at you, the camera angled at your sweet cunt as he responded, "i love you too." he loved the feeling of your sweet cunt against him. he loved it so much. it made his heart leap in his chest at the idea of being able to fuck you.

usually he liked to tease his cock between your heavy breasts, but that would have to wait for another night. for now he just got a good shot of them bouncing as he fucked you. a half-assed mating press just to get to your pussy.

he could feel the heat burning in your core as he fucked you. you felt so good, were you always this good for him. or maybe the rush of today's race was what kept you bouncing on his cock like a good girl.

it wasn't long before you covered your mouth once more and shakily exhaled against your trembling hands. it all felt so good and it made you run hot all over. it was so sweet, it was so good.

carlos almost dropped his phone from the mere pace that he was fucking you in. his heavy breathing heard on the camera paired with your sweet little moans. it was hot, it made carlos' brain run a mile a minute.

with a few more bucks of his hips, he pushed himself all the way inside of you to finish. your voice got high pitched as you came as well, but kept your hands over your mouth to keep yourself quieter.

"there. you'll be having this again soon." carlos said to the camera. to his future self. he ended the video and like a gentleman he helped you start to get yourself dressed.

carlos gave one last squeeze to your breasts and said softly when he sat next to you on the couch. curled up at your side, "we'll tell lando soon." then placed a kiss on your cheek.

-

that night after carlos' grand weekend he was out drinking with the rest of ferrari and mclaren. you had left early because the you were very tried from the day. carlos had suspicion that it might have been from your escapade earlier that day plus the race.

it was a lot for you. carlos didn't mind, even though he missed you.

he was talking to lando, treating him like a friend more so than a rival (he'd eventually be his brother-in-law, might as well get on his good side). they had a few drinks and carlos mentioned that he had something to send the other man.

"yeah, just message it to me, mate!"

carlos laughed and with his thick thumbs he didn't send the right video. what was supposed to be a stupid tiktok, was instead the 10 minute uncut video of carlos fucking you. lando's sister. before he realized what he had done, lando's eyes were the size of dinner plates on the screen.

"uh... mate... carlos." lando said when he was able to find the words. he turned his screen to the other driver. the thumbnail wasn't the stupid meme, but rather a shot of your pussy on full display.

carlos' eyes went wide, realizing that he sent the wrong video. he chuckled nervously and said, "let me explain myself, mate!" he knew he'd be hearing about this for months from both norris siblings.

but, at least you didn't have to keep it a secret anymore. <3

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

[toji-sweetheart]

threesome with the pretty boys suguru & satoru (*^‿^*)

18+ only content - mdni

I've been thinking about this for such a long time and thought why not do it now with this lmaooo also I stopped this at 1.4k because I could've easily made this a 3k thingy lmaoo so maybe a part two?

tags: fem reader + explicit smut + alcohol but no one is under the influence + mmf threesome + satosugu + they're taller than you

"Her?" Satoru whispered in his husband's ear, his tongue flicking out to tease the lobe with a deep chuckle watching as obsidian eyes followed ocean-blue ones to see a group of women in the corner.

Suguru cocked an eyebrow and looked at Satoru. "The woman who is getting married tomorrow?" He asked nodding toward the sign that the white-haired man obviously missed who was intent on the mission to find someone for a wild night of fun.

Satoru's face deflated as he took a swig of his drink sweeping his eyes around the bar, there were a few contenders but when their boyfriend or husband came up it was a no-go until they saw you.

All alone while nursing a drink.

They both watched for a few moments trying to gather intel hoping that no one would bother you, when it was clear you didn't have a man or woman waiting Satoru was the first off his stool.

It was something they both talked about before.

They wanted something new, and fun, and it wasn't that their sex life was boring or anything, it was quite the opposite but lately they've both been wanting to feel and touch a real soft wet cunt, the porn videos nor did the fleshlight they took turns using did its job.

The smell of gyrating bodies wafted around you as you pressed yourself tighter against the bar edge hoping that no one would say anything about why you were alone, after a long day of work all you wanted was one drink before going home to take a bath.

However, it seemed that a few people weren't aware of how they were close to you when you backed up a bit to draw in a deep breath to steady your nerves from how your manager berated you earlier.

It was still fresh in your mind.

Your heels caught a crack in the floor and you were falling before you even knew it and braced yourself to land flat on your ass but instead, you were caught mid-air by a pair of strong arms that steadied you on your feet. "I know it's not hard to fall for me, but you should be more careful next time." A smooth voice came from above you.

Seeing a pair of eyes shining like neon lights inviting you in was stunning, to say the least. "Thank you, the crack in the floor got the best of me and I haven't even really drank my wine." You murmured.

His smile was easy-going and natural as he leaned against the bar. "When I see a pretty woman about to fall it's only the right thing to help her." He replied smoothly with a wink before ordering a drink.

Suguru slid up next to you completing the trio.

"My husband forgets that not everyone falls for him." He teased staring at the other man as your eyes shifted between the both of them while moving your weight on each foot nervously.

The last thing you wanted was to become between spouses and have to deal with that. "Oh, I fell before I even met him, don't worry."

Suguru took a sip from his drink and chuckled. "He does have that effect on people. We noticed that you were alone and wanted to come by and say hi, you looked a bit nervous." He noted with a head tilt as his eyes gazed down at you putting you at ease.

You weren't sure how long the three of you sat there at the bar talking while you sat perched between each man, Suguru was the touchy one, his hand on your knee and Satoru was the chatty one.

They both made you laugh and when they spoke your name it made you melt, and despite not wanting any company tonight you were sure glad they came over and Satoru caught you when he did.

"Work was hell, it always is really. My boss has a stick up her ass about everything and anything, it's annoying but it pays my bills and more, I get to travel the world so I suppose it's not that bad."

They listened intently while sharing silent looks having a private conversation without talking. "Where's the best place you visited?" Suguru asked curious about what your answer was.

"My bed." You replied with a soft giggle.

"How about you come and visit ours?" Satoru piped up with a smile as his hand rested on your other knee causing goosebumps to rise all along your arms and legs which only lit a fire deep in your belly.

Being caught between two sexy-as-sin men was not at the top of your list for tonight but it would be fun to let go and do something you've never thought you would do. "I think I'd like that, Toru."

"A nickname already?" He cooed, his cheeks tinting a cute pale pink as he glanced at Suguru who took your purse and hand as he led you out to their car helping you in the front seat while he took the driver.

Satoru leaned back spreading his long legs and feeling his cock twitch as your sweet perfume filled the cabin, cherries.

The car ride was silent, filled with tension as you wondered for a moment if this was a good idea, going home with two men you just met before but it was something your friends had told you to do.

"Go and get laid! You need a night for you!" They all told you in the breakroom gushing about their own sex stories after getting you to agree with a nod even though you hated the idea at first.

They both set the perfect trap to get you in their bed, with Suguru's soft kisses on your hand and Satoru's smooth teasing you were a puddle of goo even before they got you inside their house.

Pressed between the both of them, Satoru curled his long slender fingers around the bottom hem of your dress before tugging it slowly off your body. "You're so adorable when you look like that," Suguru murmured dipping his head down to press his lips against your ear.

"Like what?" Your voice trembled as you fisted his shirt sighing softly when Satoru trailed his fingers over the curve of your ass while his husband slipped his palm between your legs to cup your pussy.

"Like a lamb caught between two wolves." Suguru purred his mouth coming down to taste yours, his tongue licked into yours with expert strokes that had you weak in the knees as Satoru traced your curves.

Suguru's words made your bones rattle with a deep need to find out what more they can do to help you forget everything you need.

With your dress unzipped and pooled around your ankles, Satoru crouched behind you to nuzzle his face against your ass before biting the lace of your panties to tug them down to join your dress.

Neither man could care less to move from their spot as all three of you tangled together on the floor, both of them still dressed while you sat in Suguru's lap with your legs over his so he could keep them spread for his husband who lapped at your pussy softly.

Satoru wanted to taste you when he first saw you and his curiosity got the best of him with you presented like this in front of his face, it was an opportunity he couldn't turn down and when you moaned his name while watching him with Suguru his cock leaked more.

The front of his boxers was a mess as he splayed you open to kiss each inch of your slick pussy, the clear sap was sweet and Gojo grew drunk on the taste, like a sweet wine that made his head fuzzy.

"How does she taste?" Suguru rasped threading his fingers through his hair to tug him up before kissing him deeply, their tongues tangled together in an erotic show that you got a front seat to.

You whined wanting Satoru to go back down on you, your orgasm wasn't far away, and watching them make out only stoked that fire between your legs. "Please!" You begged looking at them.

Satoru chuckled and nipped his husband's bottom lip before kissing his way down your chest making sure to capture a nipple in his warm mouth until he reached your pussy that ached.

He thrust two fingers inside your silken walls feeling you clench tightly around him when his tongue swirled against the swollen bud that made your thighs tense and shiver. "Right there!" You moaned bucking your hips as Suguru tweaked your nipples.

Your climax hit you like fireworks.

It wasn't one that you gave yourself, instead, it was in the hands of another who knew all the right spots to stroke. Turns out all the videos and scouring the internet weren't for anything.

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — and ignite your bones | carlos sainz and multi

Description: Trying to find love after your ex-fiancee told you that his mistress makes him happier. How hard could it be?

part three of it was all yellow

Pairing: actress!singer!reader/multi (undecided), actress!singer!reader/carlos sainz (past).

Trope: Secret Baby Trope

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

The bitter taste remained in your throat - vomit threatened to puke out of your esophagus. There were three billion people in the world, yet Carlos' sister decided to invite his new girlfriend to the party. It was greedy to expect them to shun the new, in favor of the old.

You take a sip of your wine.

The Sainz Family never accepted you as part of them. To them, your family wasn't as prestigious as it came from relatively new fame. To them, your father was just a country bumpkin that was lucky to make it big in Hollywood. They always spoke Spanish around you.

They never bothered to warm their hearts to someone as 'cold' as you. Of course, your other ex-boyfriend was also Spanish and you could translate the few words that they said.

That was when you realized that the family didn't like you...at all. They thought that you were strange despite your gentle disposition.

They ignored you.

And like a knife was getting twisted inside of you, they welcomed Because with open arms.

"Are you okay?" Pom stood in front of me. "- I feel quite left out, what ever is happening over there." she chuckled, pointing at the group of friends laughing and speaking in another language. "Its been a long time since I've been around them. I know how you feel." you smiled.

"I'm sorry for intruding but, Carlos was your ex-boyfriend, right?" she narrowed her eyes, watching as your ex-lover paraded Pablo around the boat - showing everyone his son. "Yes," you answered, throwing your attention back to the ocean waters.

"- and that woman is his new girlfriend?" she vaguely stared at the other woman and you nodded. "Holy mackerel." she scoffed.

Pom Klementieff sat beside you.

"I think he downgraded." she whispered, you knew that it was the alcohol speaking in her behalf. "You're only saying that because you want to be my friend." you teased and she shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I say things sometimes and they're not appropriate." she apologized, earning a small chuckle from you.

She could be a good friend.

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Thankfully lunch rolled around quickly. There weren't many things that you could chatter about after four hours of chatting. Pom looked seasick and you were exhausted with all of the cleaning.

Pablo was being stubborn, he didn't want to eat his vegetables.

"Pabs, just try it once." you pleaded, knowing better than to force food down a toddler's mouth. "No." he stubbornly answered. He inherited his father's stubbornness.

"You like the broccoli that Nana makes, this one is made by your other Nana." you explained, seeing that there was no difference between the broccoli made here then the broccoli at home.

"No." he responded pushing the spoon away.

Carlos, sensing the tension quickly made his way to the chair beside his son. He placed a guiding hand on his back. "Is there something else that you want to eat?" he inquired and Pablo shook his head.

"I want to go home." the boy replied, jumping down from his seat and sprinting towards you - burying his face on your chest.

"We'll be in our hotel room, soon. Once we land in Mallorca, we'll grab ice cream." you promised. "- but you have to eat something first." you added and only then did the young boy relent.

Carlos' eyes narrowed watching as the both of you ate. It was funny to think about the different outcomes of life, maybe, if he didn't fuck it all up and decided to stay - this would happen in a daily basis. He'd have a quiet life where all he worried about was food, children and what movies you'd watch on his days off.

He could've had a quiet life.

He didn't want a quiet life back then. He wanted to be taken off the ground by a hurricane. But like a rabbit hiding under a car in fear of the lights, he is ran over by fate and dead before he could think twice.

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yn.ln: one last night in this lovely boat. @pomklementieff @lovelyemilia @krumbasis @lordemusic

also @lewishamilton thank you for watching sprinkles while we're away.

liked by lewishamilton and 723,923 others

>comments

thatonegirl: ohh she's not posting @because.official HAHAHA

deftonesmusic92: Leaving out Because is so funny 😭

danielricciardo: See you in Mallorca!

maxverstappen: Have fun ❤️

lewishamilton: No problem, as long as you watch Coco and Roscoe next time. 🙂

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Because takes a deep breath, feeling his arms wrap around her waist. At night, she thinks about his son and his baby mommy. She looks at your face sometimes, the curve of your nose, the distance of your eyes, your quirky personality - all parts of you that were better than all the parts of hers.

When Carlos chose her instead of you, she found love. She thought that something about her must be unique. But then she sees the way he looks at you and finds that respect diminishing.

Love should belong to herself, but why is she reaching for the horizon looking for love that comes from him?

Most of all, she doesn't understand why Carlos chose her.

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yn.ln: Happy birthday Blanca!! Thank you for inviting Pablo and I. We had tons of fun, wishing for more birthdays to come. ❤️ te amo @blancasainzvasquez

liked by maxverstappen and 91,238 others

>comments

ynworld: happy bday!!

emymei: The cutest duo

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because.official: Happy 27th Blancs! here is the family picture that i took of yous ❤️ please enjoy your day. @blancasainzvasquez

liked by carlossainz55 and 82,329 others

>comments

ilvermonhyhigh: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLANCA SAINZ!

blancasainzvasquez: Aww post the one with you in the pic. Thank you for the birthday greeting Brezzie ❤️

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lewishamilton posted to his story.

caption: mallorca/happy birthday pablo

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rileykeough posted to her story.

caption: Thanks for the pic birthday boy!! I love you so much

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carlossainz55 posted to his story.

caption: Happy birthday P! Double birthday celebration.

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maxverstappen: Happy birthday pobla pablo 🦖 I held you when you were baby and now you're so big. I wish that you grow big and strong. Have a happy happy birthday 🥳

liked by yn.ln and 1,283,093 others

>comments

victoriaverstappen: Happy birthday baby dino!

yn.ln: thank u sm uncle maxie !!

maxverstappenworld: MAN WHY YOU POSTING PABLO LIKE UR THE FATHER 😭

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danielricciardo posted to his story.

caption: Happiest birthday to the future racecar driver!!

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[frogchiro]

tumblr ate this ask so I am sending it again!!!

just imagine, your apartment is of course, so dingy, so eventually your shower HAS to break, so you need to use neighbor! ghosts

needing to use his soap (and has he already used that towel??) and just coming out smelling like his musk and seeing him in the living room afterwards ahhhh!

Thank you for sending this to me again dear!! This has been on my mind for so many days ahhhh!!

Both the apartment and piping had seen...better days, obviously. You had of course trued to tidy it up and make it look like a home and not a prison cell but, well, there was only so much you could do yourself and any kind of attempt of communicating with the owner of the building either led to a dead line over the phone or some drunken warbles that never led to anything actionable.

So it was really only a matter of time and running out of luck when the pipes and shower head let out a ominous clank and spurted out ice cold water making you scream and run out of it while cursing like a sailor. Of-fucking-course this would end up like this! You knew you couldn't on that good for nothing of a landlord and you'd have to get this fixed yourself but it was already Friday evening, every service is closed already and would be closed until Monday and you sure as hell won't go sweaty and dirty for three days because some dickhead didn't bother to fix the water :((

But...there was always one more option. One which made you nervous and twitchy. You could always go to your lovely neighbour, Simon, and ask him if you could use his shower.

Just imagine Simon's delight at seeing you still trembling from the shock of cold water and asking him quietly if you could please use his shower? Just until Monday? Yours broke and-

And after that Simon kinda tuned out and honed only onto the request if your could use his shower. His shower. A place where he barely fits his huge, burly body all naked, where he jerked off so many times to images of you in his head and then was angry at how much sperm he wasted down the drain when it could've been inside you :((

He's so so happy to let you in and tells you to 'make yourself right at home lovie'. And he's even more happy when he sees you walk out of the bathroom in your comfy pink PJs and a fluffy bathrobe, all content and happy and, the most important, you smell like his heavy, musky soap that he uses :(( You smell like him! Si takes it that you're marked as his </3

[mingtinys]

" you always come first "

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

a/n : producer !! woozi !! that's it (:

Jihoon is exactly where you expect to find him when you get home from work. Hunched over in his chair, eyes boring into a computer screen, and pen in hand furiously scribbling away at a notepad. You knock three times to alert him of your presence. He turns to you with a wide smile and tired eyes.

"Hi," He breathes out, ushering you in with his hand. You oblige, though you don't plan to stay for long. It's been a long day and you're tired. But on top of that, you know Jihoon enough to notice when he's gotten into a rhythm and doesn't want to be disturbed.

"How was your day?" He humors. His hand settles back on the mouse and he begins clicking around the program he uses. "Fine," you shrug, stopping just behind his chair, a little curious as to what he's doing. "Tiring, but not the worst it could've been."

Your replies are rather lackluster and you can tell Jihoon notices by the way he quirks up an eyebrow at your last sentence.

You rake your fingers through his hair, smoothing back the pieces that have fallen out of place before letting your hand rest on his shoulder. He hums in satisfaction when you press a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll let you get back to work."

Jihoon cranes his neck to peer back with a confused frown on his lips. "Aren't you going to tell me about your day?"

Your brain short circuits for a moment and you just stare at him, dumbfounded. Of course, Jihoon always takes time out of his schedule to hear about your day. However, he usually prefers to finish up whatever he's working on first so he doesn't lose focus. "You look busy, I don't want to interrupt. This looks important." You wave your hand vaguely at his screen.

He just tsks, then swiftly saves his project and cuts the power to his monitor. "You're important. You always come first, now tell me what's wrong." He's spun around in his chair, already standing up to take you in his arms, and trails his fingers up and down your spine.

He smells nice and his warmth is comforting, inviting. A long sigh escapes your lips and you allow yourself to relish in the feeling Jihoon brings. Tucking your face into his shoulder and melding into his hold.

"Just feeling a little worn out, but it's better now."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion

[wolfish-trickster]

Don't make me choose

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: it's been some time since you've started dating the infamous Satoru Gojo. But lately you feel more like the two of you are just cuddle/fuck buddies and not a real couple. You make him choose his priorities which is something the strongest doesn't like.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

When Gojo Satoru first asked you out you couldn't be happier. The first time he caught your eye was when he zoomed past you together with Geto on one bike. You got so startled you fell to the ground and scratched your knee. You thought at first that they will just leave you there and probably laugh at you later at a pub, talking to their friends how they knocked over a clumsy girl in a park. What completely shocked you was Gojo running up to you with Geto pushing their bike behind him asking you if you were okay and if you need any help.

The rest is history.

Now, three years later, things have been going well. Mostly.

You had the ultimate boyfriend experience. Nice dates, wholesome anniversaries, moving in together, having fun. You did everything in your power to not get boring, for him to not get bored. You cooked, cleaned, asked him how his day was, acted silly with him even when you were exhausted after a long day.

So why? Why was he spending more and more of his free time away from you?

It started out small. The first time you started noticing was like a month ago. As soon as he came home he told you he's going to the pub with Geto and Nanami. You told him to have fun of course, not wanting to seem like that girlfriend that doesn't allow their boyfriends having fun without them. Then from one weekend it became every weekend. Both of you were busy during the week, the only time you had for yourself was during the night and weekend. It soon became just nights.

Even during the week it was "babe, i have a day off tomorrow i'm going to Geto's" or "sorry we have to move the date night to sometime else, Geto is sick and has no one to take care of him" and once even "babe, remember how you told me about this place you used to love as a child? I'm going there with Geto! What a coincidence, right?". The last one hurt the most. Honestly, the last one was also what made you start noticing these in the first place. Once you looked into the past and counted all the times Gojo chose to spend his free time with his best friend instead of you you nearly slapped yourself. It was too many times. How could've you been so blind?

All off days were for Geto. All special days were once again for Geto. Weekends, holidays, his and yours birthdays, all for Geto fucking Suguru.

You needed to have a talk with him.

If he comes back that is. Lately he started to have sleepovers with Geto. As if both of them were teenage girls. You did ask to join them but they always told you off to "not disturb their boy time".

Steps echo outside your apartment. The door unlocks. And in comes...

"Babe," comes the voice of your beloved white haired guy, "I'm home."

"I can hear that," came your answer. You prayed it didn't sound too agressive. Your stomach was full of nervous butterflies, making it even worse to come up with a decent way to start the talk.

While you were thinking he came from the entrance hall to the kitchen where you were sitting and kissed you on the crown of your head. "I wanted to ask, do we have plans next wendesday? Because Suguru said he'd-"

"Listen," you interrupted him before he could even finish, "can we talk?"

Gojo chuckled. "That's a very scary sentence."

"Why? Have something to hide?"

"Nope," he put his bag down and leaned his back against the wall, "I'm listening. What is it?"

You took a deep breath. Then another. "Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with Geto?"

His playful smile loosend into a neutral line. "Elaborate?"

"It's just... you've been with him so much lately and I miss being with you-"

"I'm with you all the damn time. Every single night we-"

"Can't you let me finish?!" you said a little louder than intended but enough is enough. "Is that all you see me as? A fuck-buddy to warm your bed?"

Gojo groaned in annoyance. "No, of course not. But you're literally overreacting over here!"

"Overreacting? How? By wanting my boyfriend to be home on his off days? To spend some time with me and have fun like before?"

"Have fun times with you? What am I your babysitter?"

"Are you Geto's? All the fun stuff we used to do you're doing with him!"

"No, no darling," he stood up straight and walked towards you, backing you into the corner, "all the stuff we used to do I did with him first. He's my best friend! I've known him half my life! You have to have at least a bit of empathy to understand that."

Even cornered by a giant of a guy like him you didn't feel fear. The butterflies in your stomach died. What remained was just pain in your chest predicting what was about to come.

"Do you even see me as your girlfriend anymore, Gojo?"

"Oh, so we are on last name terms again?" he asked sarcastically and walked away to pour himself a cup of water.

"Answer me."

You watched him drink. Slowly. You've never seen a man drink this slow.

"Of course I do," he put the glass down, "what kind of a bullshit question is that?"

"It's how I feel Gojo. You're never here with me!"

"I am here now aren't I?" he poked his chest with his forefinger. "I'm here every single day and night, twentyfour fucking seven ever since we moved in together! Well excuse me I want to have some quality time with my best friend from time to time!"

You didn't want this. The yelling, the arguing. But it has to be done.

Now as a finishing touch. "Who do you value more?"

"Excuse me?" was all he said, too surprised to not hear you yell in return, just calmly asking your question.

"Who is more important to you? Your best friend or your girlfriend?"

Gojo covered his face with his palms and threw his head back. "You can't be serious right now," he groaned. "Suguru is my best friend. You can't just make me choose!"

"So I'm below a best friend. I might as well be called your friend with benefits..." you say more to yourself than him.

"There you go hating yourself again," he shook his head. "I get it, you want to hear me say how much you mean to me, how you're the most important thing in the world and other stuff I've told you a million times already and yet you still slip into this state. I might as well record myself saying those things so you could listen to them everytime you're attention starved," he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He sighed. "You know what? I'm tired of this. I still care about you, but you have to understand Suguru is-"

"I know," you interrupt his rant. "I'm tired too."

Gojo sighs. "Okay. Good. I knew we could talk this out," he said and picked up his sleepover bag again. "I hate arguing with you."

He walked past you to the bathroom to dump his pyjamas into dirty laundry. "Let's go to bed, okay?" he shouted from there.

After a quick shower he walked out the bathroom with nothing but sweatpants on and a towel around his neck.

However you weren't there. Not in the bedroom, nor living room, nor anywhere else. Confused Gojo walked around the apartment, looking for any signs where you might be hiding. Maybe you want to jumpscare him again to light up the tension?

Fine, two can play this game. He tiptoed into the bedroom to your massive closet and yanked it open.

You weren't there. But neither were your things. He quickly checked under the bed to see your beloved backpack missing.

Panicked he started calling out for you, thinking this was just a prank.

It wasn't.

You made him choose and without even realizing it he did.

[reiderwriter]

Smutty part two of the hand to hand combat fic plz

A/N: Your wish is my command! I think a lot of people were frustrated at where I left the first part off lol, so here's a special treat for everyone who lowkey hated me after that lmao. Enjoy! 18+ MINORS DNI Also it is a crime that there aren't more gifs of Spencer wet, I have used most of them ㅠㅠ

You can read the first part here!

Warnings: shower sex, fingering, suggestive washing idk, Intercrural sex (he fucks the gap between her thighs for a while), no contraception, PinV sex, slight cum play? I guess?

You can also find my masterlist here, and if you enjoy my 18+ works, I'm partaking in kinktober, and you can find out about all of my plans here :]

As you washed off the day's sweat, standing in the shower rooms of the FBI gym, you cursed the gods above for making you such a coward. 

If you'd been bolder during your sparring session with Spencer, you could've ended the day in a much more pleasurable way, or you'd at least have the memory of whatever you'd do to aid your fantasies. You thought back to your humbling defeats of earlier that day. You really thought you could get the upper hand on Reid in at least one of your rounds, but no. He’d got the jump on you all three times, leaving you squirming under his touch on the mat as he enjoyed his defeats. 

The second-round had been close, having the initial upper-hand being in the assailant role, but he’d used his extra height to throw you off balance, pinning you to the ground from behind, his hands trapping yours against your lower back. You’d blushed at the compromising position, your ass raised suggestively, his bodyweight pushed on top of yours, crotch to your centre, as you tried stay calm despite the very thin materials of both of your work out gears that separated you. 

Not that you were complaining about the extra contact, but you weren’t beneath using it as an excuse for your loss. In your final round, he’d let you think you hand the upper hand for a second, teasing you about enjoying the view from your place above him, straddling his waist as you pinned him down. By that point, you were beyond horny, reaching near orgasmic levers of desperation to feel him push up into you, and he’d let you enjoy the feeling of your core grinding into him for a few minutes. Just long enough that no one else would notice that your movements weren’t simply struggles to keep him pinned. Then, he’d gone and ruined it by thrusting his hips up quickly and using the momentum and your shock to buck you off to the side, returning you to your earlier pinned pose. Despite the losses, you couldn’t really find much else to complain about other than the fact that you hadn’t kissed him right then and there, having not thrown caution to the wind. 

With each pulse of water from the shower head, you tried to clear your head, but he'd consumed your thoughts. You didn't think you wanted him this badly, but apparently one touch was all it took for you to become aware of the desire you had for him. You let your own hands trail between your legs as you decided to deal with your bodies pent up frustrations.

The door to the bathroom opened, though, just when you were about to get going and you had to pull your hand away as you called out to your new friend. 

"Pen? That you? God I'm so fucking sweaty from that work out." You laughed a little as you greeted her, but the other person didn't make any other noises, stopping dead in their tracks. 

"Y/N?" Somehow your blood ran cold as your body heated up. 

"Spencer? What are you…?" You whipped your head around to get a look at him over the glass shower stall door, pulling your hands over your chest, reflexively. 

"Morgan said the men's showers were broken, and he was heading home to shower. But I can't sit for that long on the subway without getting rid of all this sweat. He said there'd be no one else in here since we stayed so late…. I can… I can leave if you need me to?" 

"No! No, it's okay, it's not like we're using the same shower or anything, and I don't want you to feel so… Uncomfortable." 

He thanked you, then slipped into a stall a three away from your own, as you tried your best not to watch the flex of his arms as he firmly gripped his towel around himself. 

Turning back to your own shower, you decided you needed to speed it up, actually get on with it so you could escape this awkward, tempting situation. You were almost sure this was some kind of divine punishment. You lathered up your hair and began to massage your head when the water suddenly ran so cold it burned. 

"Ah, shit," you whimpered out as you ran from the water as quickly as possible. 

"Um, Spencer?" 

"Y-Yeah," he responded, having heard your moans and immediately perked his head up. 

"Your shower stall, it's the second from the door right?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Shit, I should've mentioned something," you ran a hand through your hair as you turned off your shower. "That one doesn't work too well, when you use hot water in that one for some reason, it makes the rest of these showers run cold for the rest of the day." 

"Oh, I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't realise." 

"No, it's good, I guess it's just cold shower time for me now." You sighed in a huff of annoyance, and turned your shower back on. 

"Do you… Do you want to come and use this one? My water's still hot and the cold water really won't be good for relaxing your muscles after all that work." 

"With you?" Your eyes meet his over the walls of your shower stall and you try not to sound too eager. Maybe this could be your chance after being such an idiot earlier. 

"Yeah, I guess. I still need to, you know, wash up?" 

You nodded at him then, and began collecting your things, your towels in your hands covering your sensitive areas, but only just as you stepped into his space.

He pressed himself against one of the walls as you entered, doing his best to cover his cock with his hands, but failing pretty miserably. You shot a single look down there, hoping he didn't notice. He was hard, and God did you want to help him out. 

But unsure of how to broach the topic, you ignored it and put your things down, before turning in to face the shower. A little sign of contentment fell over you as you felt the heat against your skin again, body relaxing as you began washing off your hair once again. 

You felt him move until he was a shadow at your back, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

"Y/N, let me help you clean your back. I don't want you to flare up that arm injury, and you're not reaching that well." 

"What?" Ill advisedly, you turn to face him. His eyes trail over your body, landing on the swell of your chest as you stand only millimeters from touching. Gently dragging his eyes back up, he repeats his plea, and turns you around, grabbing your body wash.

"Trust me, I'll help." But you know this isn't going to do any good easing the tension in your body, his hands on you being as distracting as they were. You almost jusmo a little when his bare hands finally come down on your waist. 

"S-Spencer I have a loofah!" You almost moan out as he begins to rub circles into your skin with his fingers spread. He's closer now, and with his hands out of the way. You can feel his cock, bare against your ass, twitching as you realise he's getting a lot of pleasure out of this. 

"Do you know how much bacteria can live on one of those things? You wanted to get clean, right?" It's all you can do not to buck back into him as he releases the words, hands coming up to your shoulders as he works his strength into your skin. His hands feel so good against you, that you barely notice them slipping around your front, as he begins to work on the plains of your stomach as well.

You throw your head back against his chest in pleasure as he slips higher and higher, hands eventually cupping your breasts as he slowly lathers them up, taking his time to feel every single inch of your skin. You whimper in your pleasure, and you hear his heavy breathing similarly pick up. 

"Spencer…" You don't know what your words are asking, begging for, but it's clear he does, as his hands spread. One goes up to your neck, wrapping around you tightly as you gasp out a breath, the other washing hanging in the air as he rids it of soap before trailing down between your legs. 

His fingers find your clit and you whimper. 

"That's it baby, I'm just gonna help you get clean, okay? Gonna make you feel good, too." You nod at his words, giving him the silent confirmation he needs to press his cock in between your thighs and start rubbing it up against you, not yet pushing it in. You're pushing your ass back into him now as he starts to fuck the folds of your sweet cunt, writhing in pleasure everytime his tip catches on your hole, pleasure rolling off your tongue in waves. 

His hand on your neck keeps you from gaining volume, keeping you grounded as he gets you close to that euphoric bliss. You're desperate to actually feel him inside you though, squirming in the hopes that one of his thrusts will accidentally land on target. 

"Spencer, please…" You know what you want now, and you're desperate for him to listen, as you turn your head to the side, grabbing the back of his own as you pull him down for a sloppy kiss. His hips still as he falls into the kiss, tongue dragging over your lips and begging for entrance. His hand stays on your clit though, and within a few more rubs you feel yourself twitch in his arms, fully held up by his hand on your neck. 

"Spencer, please, need you…" 

"Are you sure, Y/N? This is still a public bathroom, and I don't want you to think you have to do anything just bec-" You cut him off with another kiss, and that's all he needs before he's pressing you back into the shower stall, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing his cock inside of you. 

You pulled his lips down to yours again and again, desperate to taste him, shower abandoned behind you. His pace picked up and soon he was slamming into you, with the full force of his body, the weight that had earlier been used to pin you down now being used to pleasure you to the fullest. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, letting his eyes fall to the place where your two bodies met, his grunts filling the space as you tried your best to bite your tongue. You knew that if you let yourself be as loud as you could've been in that moment, someone would definitely notice. 

"Just like that, Spencer, fuck, just like that." Your hips bucked wildly against his as he pulled your other leg up and around him, holding you fully off the ground as he continued his movements. 

You gripped his back, letting your nails find any purchase they could, dragging scratches down his skin, marking him as yours. You didn't feel so bad about the pain you must've been dealing him though, not when his hands were leaving red handprints on your hips from his tight grip, the sharp discomfort only fuelling your passion. 

"Spence, I'm… Fuck I'm close." Your head slumped into his neck. 

"Cum for my, Y/N, need to feel you clench around my cock." He grunted, and somehow your body listened to his demands perfectly, spilling over the edge with his next thrust. 

He moaned out quickly, lowering your legs to the floor, still holding you up, as he pulled out and stroked his cock a few more times. His white release painted both of your stomachs with his climax, and you fell against each other in your bliss, trying to both gain back your normal heart rate and calm your breath. 

"Spencer, I think we need to get back in the shower," you smiled up at him, and dragged him back over to it as he flushed, not finding the words needed to apologise for his mess. 

You pulled him in for a kiss under the water and mentally thanked Morgan for putting you through hell that day. He pulled away from you to attempt to talk, but you didn't want to let him. 

"You know," he started, but you tried to shut him up again, wanting desperately to feel his lips right back on yours. 

"Y/N, please," he laughed pulling your head away from him as you whined out childishly. 

"You know, Morgan was lying about us needing to do this physical thing." Your eyes bulged at the confession, as you tried to stammer out a reply. 

"What? I… What?" 

"He pulled the same act a year or so ago, too. Y/N, Penelope is never in the field, she doesn't have to do physical training, and we both have enough case hours to cover any further requirements." 

"So he… ThatThat son of a bitch." You muttered angrily to yourself as he ran a hand through your still damp hair, smiling down on you peacefully. 

"Wait, Spencer… If you knew that he was making this whole thing up, why did you go along with it?" 

"Needed an excuse." He pulled you in for another kiss, this one slow and languid, as you felt him twitch to life again at your thigh. 

"An excuse for what?" You moaned out as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving behind a trail of love bites you were sure would bloom into purple bruises, just another decoration for your neck alongside his handprint. 

"An excuse to touch you. You're very good at following professional boundaries, you know?" You laughed at him once more and let him pull you close into him again. It took you an extra hour to shower that day, but it was worth every second.