#i expected her to panic or lash out-

[randomfandomss]

BITCHHHH!!!!!

I CAME OUT TO MY MOTHER TODAY!!!!!!!

[handful0fteeth]

i was made for lovin' you, baby

chapter 2 of my Funny How Love Is series. read chapter 1 here summary: following the success of your first date, you and Steve catch a movie together. or, at least, that's the plan - before Steve discovers you've shown up to the date with no panties.

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, minors DNI, (light) exhibitionism, dirty talk (a lot of it), steve harrington has a big ole monsterc*ck, tooth rotting fluff, multiple orgasms

words: 16.3k

Miraculously, you survive.

Not without a thorough verbal lashing, but that was to be expected. The moment you walk through your front door, you’re bombarded with questions, and your outfit is fussed with – you don’t think you’ve ever experienced more blind panic in your life than when you have to snatch your skirt out of your mother’s prying hands before you accidentally flash her. 

She yells. A lot. You endure it only because the fearful tremor of her voice makes your stomach churn with guilt. You're silent when she demands to know what was so goddamned important you couldn’t bother to pick up a phone to call home, because you can’t very well tell her the actual reason, that you were pretty preoccupied with your longtime crush sucking your soul out of your pussy and so time just sort of…slipped away.

After forty-five minutes, your mother finally quiets and slumps into her recliner, exhausted. You are sent upstairs with a, “If you ever scare me like that again, I will chain you to the foundation of this house. Do you understand me?” You promise you’ll never be out this late without a courtesy call back home explaining your absence, and she waves you away, satisfied for the moment. 

You jump in the shower, not because you’re eager to wash Steve’s lingering scent off your skin, but because you’re uncomfortably sticky from the slick smeared between your thighs and the sweat cooling beneath your clothes. Your body is pleasantly warm, even without the water cascading over it, and remnants of that dreamlike serenity you experienced while straddling Steve’s lap swirls around your brain like mist. It enables your thoughts to wander as you scrub shampoo into your scalp.

You imagine Steve in here with you, hair slicked out of his face and soap lingering on his skin, bending down to kiss you while his hands roam the expanse of your body. You didn’t see him naked tonight, but God, you want to. It’s so easy to picture droplets of water clinging to the thatch of dark hair between his hips, and easier still to envision yourself following the thin trail above it with your tongue as you sink to your knees. 

 After a while, you aren’t even focused on getting clean anymore. You’re just tilted against the slippery tile wall, hands dancing idly over your wet skin as you lose yourself in your fantasies. You forget the amount of attention your pussy’s been shown tonight until you absently reach down to massage your clit, and the ache that bounces up into your stomach makes you hiss through your clenched teeth. Okay, you think, twisting the faucet off and peeling back the shower curtain. Definitely no more of that tonight.

Exhaustion hits the moment you cross the threshold into your bedroom. You toss your towel over the back of a chair and dive beneath your covers, resolving to call Kelsey in the morning and rub in her face just how proficient Steve Harrington is at eating pussy. 

It seems like you’ve just shut your eyes when your mother’s voice rouses you from slumber. You can barely make out the vague syllables of your name as you pry one open and holler back, “Yeah?”

“You have a phone call!”

“Tell Kelsey I’ll be there in a second!” You sit up slowly, scrubbing your eyes and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. There’s no helping the low groan that slips past your lips as you stand. You’re sore – your thighs burn with every step you take to grab a robe off the back of your door, and your jaw clicks as you loose a yawn.

“It’s not Kelsey!” Mom shouts. “It’s that Harrington boy you went out with last night!”

That was fast. Delicious memories from the night before flood your brain, and your cheeks burn as you knot the belt on your robe and burst into the hallway. You descend the steps two at a time, and in your haste, you nearly tackle your mother as you rip the phone from her.

“Ow, Jesus! Bent my goddamn fingers back, Y/N!” she snaps, shaking out her hand and retreating to the living room with a sour look on her face.

You mouth a silent apology at her back before inhaling deeply through your nose and rolling your shoulders. There isn’t time to practice your best “nonchalant” voice, so you hope for the best as you bring the phone’s receiver to your lips.

“Hello?” Your voice cracks. Of course it does. 

Steve doesn’t seem to notice, thank God. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” 

You tangle your fingers within the curls of the phone cord and lean against the wall, butterflies fluttering their wings against the inside of your ribcage. That smooth, carefree confidence drips from his voice like honey, and you can’t even see him, but you know he’s smiling, so the corners of your mouth twitch upward in return.

“Wonderfully. You?”

“Like a baby. I was just about to head off to work, but I wanted to call to check in about last night, make sure you were…yanno, still okay with everything.”

“I’m still very, very okay, Steve,” you promise. You scan the kitchen and poke your head around the wall to peer into the living room, ensuring your mother isn’t secretly eavesdropping. She’s taking sips of coffee between glances at her magazine and the morning news, but you still lower your voice and turn your face tighter toward the phone when you respond.

“I think the evidence of how okay I am is staining your backseat.”

Steve chuckles, and you bite your bottom lip as your face flushes. 

“Good point,” he says. “I also was wondering if, maybe, possibly…you were free again tonight?”

You’re sure you'd spit your heart onto the floor if it bounced harder into your throat. Is he asking you out again? Two days in a row? You knot the phone cord so tightly around your fist that the flesh starts to go white.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely, I’m free,” you say, forcing yourself to sound normal and not like an overexcited middle schooler. “Did you, uh, have something in mind?”

“Well, I get off work early tonight, so if you’re interested…I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. You catch your mother giving you an odd look over the lip of her mug before you turn your back to her. “Y-Yeah, absolutely, I’d love to catch a movie.”

“Sweet. I’ll be done at five. I can pick you up after?”

“I’ll just meet you,” you counter, “Family Video’s not that far from my house.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

It’s not that you don’t want Steve to pick you up – it’s moreso that you know your mother will want to talk to him, and you aren’t ready to subject him to her well-intentioned interrogations just yet, not when she’s likely still a little hot about your late arrival last night. 

“Alright, you’ll meet me at five, then,” Steve concedes.

“Sounds like a plan. Mind telling me what we’re seeing?”

“Back to the Future.”

You furrow your brow a bit. You thought everyone in Hawkins had seen that movie by now since it came out three months ago, and had assumed it’d already trickled out of the theaters in favor of being burned onto DVDs.

“I didn’t peg you as a sci-fi nerd,” you admonish playfully, and Steve huffs in amusement.

“I tried to watch it when it first came out but, uh…well, I had stuff going on that night, and then Starcourt burnt down….” He trails off, but you nod and suck your teeth in acknowledgment. 

You remember the news about the mall burning down the morning after it happened – the police surmised a couple of dumb kids snuck into the building after it had closed and decided it would be a good idea to set off fireworks on the Fourth. Your mother shook her head at the newspaper that day, steaming mug abandoned on the table in front of her and hand pressed mournfully to her mouth. You’d snuck a peek over her shoulder, and Detective Jim Hopper had stared reproachfully back at you, beneath a headline announcing his untimely demise as a hero. His and Heather Holloway’s names were the only ones you’d really recognized in the expansive list of casualties, and you weren’t even close to Heather. You’d had one meaningless conversation with her during one of her shifts at the pool because Kelsey mentioned a band she was traveling to see, and Heather overheard and announced her plans to go to that very same concert – one in Indianapolis, in August. Needless to say, Kelsey was the only one who made that trip.

The second-only movie theater in Hawkins burned with Starcourt, and now all that’s left is The Hawk downtown, in all its crumbling, dusty glory.

“Yeah, I guess scooping ice cream waits for no man, huh?” you ask slyly. You’d never gone to Scoops Ahoy when it existed, mainly because you didn’t trust yourself to not sound like a stuttering idiot if you tried to order from Steve, but you’d never deny yourself the indulgent glances you’d steal from across the food court at him. He was the only man you’d ever seen make sailor shorts and a dixie-cup hat look sexy.

“Hey, I was doin’ much more than scooping ice cream.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Just, yanno…helping some friends with some…stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Stuff.”

You snort.

“Important stuff,” he adds, and you nod.

“Is there any other kind?”

“None that I know of. See you in a few hours?”

“Definitely,” you say.

“Awesome. I gotta go, I have to pick up my friend so we can carpool. I’ll see you later, baby.”

The line clicks dead, and you’re left standing against the wall, wrapped up in the phone cord and blushing bright scarlet as the dial tone groans at you. 

Baby. 

If Steve never uses your real name again and exclusively calls you “baby” forever, you’ll die a happy woman. You spin around to disentangle yourself and slam the receiver back down on the hook, clasping the front of your robe shut as you hurry back up the stairs.

“I’m going out again tonight!” you call over your shoulder. “With Steve!”

“And what will happen if you’re out past curfew again without calling home?” your mother yells back. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, chain me to the foundation, I heard you!”

“Just checking! Oh, and Y/N?”

You pause in your bedroom doorway, robe already halfway shucked off. “Yes?”

“When do I get to meet this Harrington boy?”

“Oh, uh, you know…!” You shut your door quickly.

~~~

You have too many clothes.

You come to this conclusion as you’re standing naked in front of your closet, half of its contents belched out into a pile on the floor, hair and makeup already over an hour old. You’ve never thought so hard about what to put on your body in your entire life. The cold air dribbling through your cracked window suggests that you wear pants. But you hate all the clean options in your drawers, so maybe a skirt with some leggings? But then what do you wear on top – something dressy, casual, or a little bit of both? 

You blow out a harsh puff of air and flop unceremoniously to the floor, landing on your ass with a thud. Maybe you’ll just go naked. That’ll go off without a hitch, right?

Ultimately, you build your outfit around a plaid skirt you haven’t worn since the previous year's winter. It’s snug on your hips, almost too snug, and as you bend to slip some plain white Keds on, you feel the waistline dig into the soft skin of your belly. The feeling isn’t unbearable, and the skirt makes your ass look stellar, so you decide it’ll be worth the discomfort and the slight waddle you must walk with. Only after you’ve shrugged a denim jacket over a well-loved Heart t-shirt and have your hand on the doorknob to leave do you consider something: your panties.

They’re cute and simple, and you’re sure Steve would praise your choice of undergarment even if they were beige granny panties, but…wouldn’t he be far more surprised if he hiked your skirt up and found no panties at all? You bite your lip.

Well…if last night is anything to go by, he’d just steal these panties, too, right? And then you’d be down two pairs, and you aren’t made of money. You can’t just replace the pairs he tucks away as memorabilia continuously, can you? It’s a smarter, more fiscally responsible decision to go commando, you reason.

Stomach flipping and cheeks burning red hot, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and kick them toward the hamper in the corner of the room. 

~~~

You can’t pry your thoughts away from the breeze tickling between your thighs the entire walk to Family Video. 

You’d intended to drive the family car here, but your mother was already clutching the keys and shrugging her jacket on as you plodded down the stairs, citing that she’d had plans to meet some girlfriends for a drink, so you’d have to figure out different transportation. You were only sort of pouty about it, but mostly very brave – if you consider loudly complaining at your mother’s back that she must hate you and want you to get kidnapped as she scurried out the front door as “brave,” that is. Luckily, Family Video is a relatively brief walk if you navigate the forest behind your neighborhood as opposed to trying to follow the main road through town.

Before last night, you had never even considered going anywhere without panties – it seemed like a thing women only did in pornos. But now, here you are, out and about in the middle of the woods, pussy completely exposed beneath a skirt that’s barely long enough to cover the swell of your ass. It’s…oddly invigorating. And far more arousing than you would’ve imagined. 

The autumnal chill of October seeps through your jacket, sending chills up and down your bare legs, and you wrap the sides tighter around your waist to preserve what little warmth you still have. A few older couples, folks out for an evening walk, you gather, eye you up and down in confusion – or pity – as you shiver past them, and you can’t help but be a little envious of their thick woolen coats and long knitted pants. But the thought of Steve realizing you’ve shown up for your date without panties, and his eyes darkening with arousal as he hitches your legs up to your chest, hot breath ghosting over your exposed flesh as he gazes at you in the way that makes you feel like the single most desirable thing on the planet…

It’s more than worth being a little chilly.

The dark green exterior of the Family Video is almost entirely blocked by a swarm of patrons when you reach the parking lot. You should’ve expected this, seeing as the weekend has just begun, but the sight makes you swallow hard and self-consciously smooth a hand over the front of your skirt. A majority of the clientele for the evening seems to be rowdy teenage boys who raucously mill about the parking lot, some smoking cigarettes, others performing tricks on their skateboards. Shit.

You take a deep, steadying breath and lift your chin as you cut through the drifting crowds filtering in and out of the store. You tuck your hands behind your back as you walk, trying to appear casual as you slide them down over your butt and pin the fabric of your skirt in place. A giggling teenage girl blows a pink bubble with her gum as she holds the door open for you, and you flash her a thankful smile. 

The air in the store is warm and a little stuffy, the smell of dust, candy, and stale popcorn hanging like fog between the doorway and the checkout counter. People amble around, most chattering with friends as they bemusedly pick up DVDs and scan the front and back covers for something that piques their interest. An unsupervised little girl shrieks as she darts past you, clenching The Care Bears Movie against her chest as she begs her mom to buy it. 

A lithe, busy-looking girl paces behind the counter, wearing a green vest with Family Video emblazoned in bright orange lettering on the lapel. Her hair is a dirty, warm blonde and curls softly just beneath her chin, and her angular features are pinched together in apparent dismay as she worries a chipped blue thumbnail between her teeth. You progress toward her slowly, tapping on the counter’s surface to gain her attention. Despite what you thought was a markedly careful and delicate approach, the girl almost flings herself over the counter’s edge, gasping and exclaiming in surprise.

“Sorry! Sorry, um, hi, I’m Y/N, I’m supposed to be meeting Steve here?” you say hurriedly, and the girl blinks her round blue eyes at you. Silence falls gracelessly between the two of you, and you’re sure it only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity lapses in the seconds the girl’s unblinking gaze is fixed on your face. 

It’s…a little unnerving, you’ll admit. 

She squints, like she’s trying to glean more information from the nervous smile you’ve pasted on your lips, then snaps her fingers and points in your direction as a sudden realization dawns on her.

“I sat on your underwear!” she announces, loud enough for a father and young child to turn their heads and stare at you both in confusion. If you weren’t trying to conceal your ass from what feels like the entirety of Hawkins right now, you’d bury your face in your hands. The girl, to her credit, instantly realizes her mistake (and her volume) and claps a hand over her mouth.

“I am so sorry,” she says, voice muffled from behind her multi-ringed fingers. “That was…I meant…”

She sticks a hand out before her, offering you an apologetic smile along with the handshake. “I’m Robin. Steve’s told me a lot about you.”

Ohhhh. Robin. She was a key character in many of the stories Steve told you last night, and from the way he described her, her frenetic energy suddenly makes a lot more sense. You return her smile and shake her hand, but Robin doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, she grips you tight while waving your interlocked arms up and down repeatedly as she talks, almost like she’s unaware she’s doing it.

“I wasn’t, like, seeking out your underwear or anything, by the way. I just, like – well, Steve and I drove to work together this morning, and when I sat down, I felt something weird bunched up under me, and I was like, ‘Huh, wonder what that is,’ so I pulled it out and lo and behold,” she mouths the word “panties” silently, laughing a bit awkwardly around it, “and I was like ‘Woah! What the hell!’ and then Steve told me to put them down, and I was like, ‘Whose are these?’ and then he told me about your date and….” She trails off and lets go of your hand once she recognizes she’s been flapping it for about thirty seconds. 

“Sorry. I…talk a lot,” she says sheepishly, but you just laugh and shake your head. 

“It’s alright. It’s nice to meet you, too, by the way.”

She grins so wide you worry it’ll split her slim face right down the middle. “So, Steve told me you guys have a second date tonight?” she asks.

You nod. “Yep! We’re gonna go see Back to the Future.”

“Ohh, I remember that movie! Michael J. Fox wants to, like, bang his mom, right?”

You giggle and shrug. “Something like that, yeah. Do you know where Steve is, by the way?”

Robin nods and slides out from behind the counter. “Yep, I’ll go grab him. Be right back!”

She flits off, disappearing behind rows of DVDs and throngs of idle customers. You turn, keeping your back pointed at the counter for safety, and lean against it. Oddly, you feel compelled to greet people when they walk in since you’re standing right at the front; you get a few curious looks thrown your way as you wave and welcome people inside the store, clearly not in uniform and rather done up for a supposed Family Video employee.

A minute passes, and while you don’t see Steve emerge with Robin, you certainly hear him.

A display of chocolate bars flies off the counter behind you, clattering to the floor with a loud, metallic clang that makes everyone stop what they’re doing and look. Candy spills across the floor, and Steve stoops to the ground to collect the fallen sweets and discarded metal rack, mumbling apologies at startled customers all the while. He cradles the chocolate in his arms and lets the rack dangle off one crooked finger as he straightens and smiles at you.

“Smooth move, dingus,” Robin teases, patting Steve’s shoulder and resuming her post behind the counter. He shoots her a look and swings the display rack back on the counter. He sloppily dumps the bars next to it before wiping his palms on his jeans and stepping closer to you. 

He’s sporting the same Family Video vest as Robin, a slightly baggy yellow sweatshirt, and blue jeans. The yellow makes the greenish flecks in his eyes pop, and the moles along his cheeks stand out even brighter. Once again, Steve Harrington is the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen, and he doesn’t even have to try.

“You look gorgeous,” he murmurs. A hand slides around your waist and rests on the small of your back, pressing you close enough that he can stamp a chaste kiss on your cheek. His lips are warm against your chilled skin, and after a moment, he pulls back with a concerned look.

“Jesus, you’re freezing. Did you walk here?”

“Oh, yeah, uh. Mom had to take the car to a thing, so….” You shrug, trying to appear apathetic, but a shiver slithers up your spine as the front door swings open and a gust of frigid air nips at your heels. Steve hugs you closer, fingers squeezing and sliding up your hip and waist to warm you up.

“Next time, just call me. I’ll gladly pick you up so you don’t have to freeze your cute little ass off,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear. Before you can reply – not that you had anything remotely intelligent to say anyway – he turns both of your bodies so they’re angled at Robin.

“You two have been introduced, right?”

“Yep. I told her all of your embarrassing secrets before I went and got you,” Robin says flatly, shuffling candy bars in her hands like playing cards and slotting them into their original spaces on the display.

“Awesome, that means I’ll have plenty of time to tell her all of yours in the car,” Steve retorts. Robin rolls her eyes and holds a chocolate bar above her head threateningly.

“I am not afraid to use this.”

“You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

Steve yanks you to the right as the bar soars past your head, pinwheeling onto the floor and almost knocking against the ankles of two teenage girls by the front door. They both look up sourly, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, and Robin squeaks out an apology before they strut away.

“Good one,” Steve taunts, slipping his work vest off and dropping it on the counter behind him in a heap. Robin swipes it away with narrowed eyes, chastising Steve about not being his mother as she folds the fabric into a neat, green square. He slings an arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you out of the store, calling out to Robin over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget to lock the front door when you leave!”

“One time, Steve. It was one time!”

~~~

The drive to the theater is a pleasant blur of conversation. 

The smell of Steve’s cologne envelops you the second the passenger-side door shuts, woody and sweet and perfectly him. As you toss your purse into the backseat, you find yourself staring intently at the upholstery. It doesn’t appear that your previous escapades have actually maimed the leather.

At one point, as Steve talks about a particularly belligerent customer he had to deal with earlier in the day, he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. It’s not an insinuation or expectation – he hardly even applies pressure, just idly rubs his pinky back and forth over your skin while he continues his story. His ministrations do slightly disturb the hem of your skirt, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

You entertain the idea of just guiding his fingers between your legs, allowing him to feel you entirely, letting him play with your cunt while he drives, but just as you’ve built up the necessary courage, the car is pulling into the parking lot behind The Hawk. 

He squeezes your leg before hopping out of the car, and you’ve barely gathered your purse strings in your fist before he swings your door open for you and extends a hand down to help you out.

“Madame,” he says, bowing his head slightly. You giggle and take his hand.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, and as you step onto the cracked asphalt below, Steve shuts the door and crowds you up against the side of his car. 

His lips are instantly on yours, warm, soft, and hungry, and you can’t help but sigh against his mouth. You didn’t know how addictive kissing Steve Harrington would be until you went without it; now that you’re here, you’re tempted to forego the movie entirely so you don’t have to stop making out with him. He nudges his knee between your legs, and you tense up involuntarily, inhaling sharply through your nose. You feel him start to pull away, having noticed your apparent hesitance, but you remedy that quickly by bringing a hand up to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck and locking your right ankle around his calf. You lick at his lips, and he parts them readily, excitedly. He tastes minty, something you weren’t expecting but aren’t displeased with.

“You smell good,” Steve mumbles, kissing a trail down your neck and tugging the collar of your shirt to one side so he can better access the skin beneath. He hums approvingly before latching onto a pre-existing hickey, suckling and nipping at his handiwork. 

“If you do that, they’re never gonna go away,” you breathe. He chuckles.

“Good. They look so pretty on you.” His hands glide down your waist and settle on your hips, kneading circles into your flesh and pulling you flush against his body. You notice how comfortably you fit together, like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place for the first time. When he straightens, you find yourself tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“You have the softest mouth,” he says quietly, raising his hand and ghosting it along your jaw. His curled pointer finger settles beneath your chin, and his thumb presses into the center of your lower lip. “I could kiss you all day.”

“We’d miss the movie,” you warn, words slurred slightly by the presence of his thumb. You have to admit, though, that spending an entire day holed up with Steve, doing nothing but making out and allowing his hands to roam wherever they pleased on your body sounds like heaven on earth. He smiles at you, that perfect crooked smile, and gives you one last peck on the lips before stepping back.

“Better get a move on, then,” he says, sweeping his arm out and moving to the side. Cold air rushes to fill the space his body occupied a moment ago, and you shiver. You smooth the front of your skirt with one hand and slot the other inside his, keeping in step as you both navigate the alleyway next to the theater.

Empty cardboard boxes loom above your head, stacked haphazardly and tilted into the walkway. Puddles of opaque liquid splash beneath your shoes as you walk through them. A rumor Kelsey whispered to you ages ago floats to the forefront of your mind.

“Hey…didn’t Jonathan Byers kick your ass back here a few years ago?” you ask. The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches. Then, he smacks his lips and walks ahead, tugging on your arm and dragging you through the alley.

“So, what size popcorn did you want? I was thinking we’d get a large to share!”

~~~

Your sneakers stick noisily to the floor as you and Steve slither through the narrow rows of the mostly empty theater. You’re clutching the large Coke you’re going to share and the box of Sour Patch Kids Steve insisted upon while he’s balancing the unnecessarily massive bucket of popcorn on the tips of his fingers. You eye it cautiously, ready to leap to catch it if it pitches forward.

The seats you’ve picked in the top middle row, away from what little crowd is scattered about the theater, creak as you sit down, and the decrepit padding sags under your weight. You’ve missed the previews but are just in time to watch Marty McFly hitching a ride on the back of a truck to get to school. You pass Steve his candy and take a sip of your drink as he settles in and sticks the popcorn bucket between his knees.

“So, what’s happening?” Steve whispers, leaning down to your ear.

“Hardly anything yet. He’s on his way to school from Doc Brown’s house.”

“He who? And who’s Doc Brown?”

“He is Michael J. Fox,” you murmur, pointing at Marty as Principal Strickland berates him. “Doc Brown is Christopher Lloyd, the crazy scientist.”

“Ohh. Wait, isn’t he the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest guy?”

You lean back in your seat enough to give Steve an incredulous look.

“You’ve seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”

He shrugs, ripping the cardboard lip of the Sour Patch box open and spilling a few multi-colored gummies into his palm. “Robin and I have movie nights every Sunday. She chooses artsy shit on her turns. My last pick was Gremlins. You should come this weekend, but I can’t promise she’ll give up her turn for you. She’s suuuuper anal about that stuff.”

You smile and relax into his side. “As long as she’s cool with me bringing hot chips, she can pick whatever she wants.” This date isn’t over yet, and he’s already talking about seeing you again. If it weren’t the least cool thing you could do right now, you’d squeal over it.

Steve silently holds a blue Sour Patch beneath your nose as an offer, pinched between thumb and forefinger. You take it, gently pulling with your front teeth, and before he can retract his hand, you surge forward. Your tongue laps at the sticky sugar left over on the pads of his fingers, and in the flickering light of the film, you catch Steve staring at you, surprised. 

He bites the inside of his cheek when you draw his thumb inside your mouth and give a tentative suck. His gaze darkens as you blink up at him through your eyelashes, feigning innocence. As you start to pull away, he presses a finger beneath your chin and hooks his thumb downward against the backs of your bottom teeth, locking you in place. He leans toward you, mouth so close to your cheek that you feel the rumble of his voice across your heating skin.

“Do you really think it’s smart to tease me like that in public, baby?”

It is by the grace of God you don’t moan in the middle of the theater. 

You shift in your seat, trying to discreetly cross one leg over the other to squeeze your thighs together. His tone, the unrelenting grip on your jaw, and the change in his body language make you want to challenge him. You want to nod in agreement, to meet his gaze defiantly, do something that’ll make his eyes flash. But someone a few rows down from you loudly clears their throat, and Steve’s eyes dart toward the noise. 

You bite back the disappointed whine that builds in your throat as Steve slowly pulls his thumb from your mouth, eyeing the thin string of glittering saliva that keeps it briefly connected to your bottom lip before snapping. A beat passes where you both stare at each other, your lips barely parted, ready to welcome anything Steve deigns to slide past them again, but he rests that hand in his lap instead. 

“Watch the movie,” he murmurs, smirking at your open-mouthed and dazed expression.

Yeah, like that’s possible.

You swallow hard, uncrossing your legs and squirming. He hasn’t even done anything, not really, but your pussy is throbbing right now, and you’re genuinely concerned you’re going to start leaking all over the cushion below your ass. The potential embarrassment of standing up and discovering the shiny wet spot, a definitive indication of your arousal, thrills as much as it fills you with dread.

Steve seems to get absorbed into the movie rather quickly, mindlessly alternating between popping gummies and kernels of popcorn in his mouth, but your brain is buzzing, making it impossible to focus. When Steve places the popcorn bucket in the empty seat next to him, you can’t help yourself – you glance down at his empty lap, staring at his dick through his jeans like a fucking pervert. You gnaw the edges of your fingers, which doesn’t come close to sating the desire to have anything of Steve’s back inside your mouth..

The 1950s version of Marty’s father has just knocked Biff Tannen unconscious when Steve leans over the armrest between you again, and his voice is light with amusement when he asks, “What’s got you squirming so much?”

You breathe out sharply through your nose.

“I thought you wanted us to watch the movie,” you snark. Steve’s smile widens.

“I told you to watch the movie,” he corrects. His elbow nudges into your side slightly as he bends toward you. “But it seems like you’re havin’ a hard time with that. I’m just curious as to why.”

“You know why.”

“Mmm, no, I don’t.” Smug motherfucker.

Your hands rest on your thighs, clenching and unclenching as you contemplate your next move. He watches you intently, eyes roaming from your undoubtedly flushed face to where your hands are fidgeting in your lap. 

You won’t tell him why you can’t sit still – you’ll show him.

Wordlessly, you slide your fingers down the sleeve of his sweatshirt until you’re grasping his hand and guiding it toward your skirt. His fingers are cold as they brush against the soft, warm flesh of your inner thighs, and you grin as a gasp flutters past his lips.

“Fuck,” he growls. He pulls his hand back, and before you can whine at the loss, he adjusts himself in his seat so he’s angled toward you and reaches between your legs with his other hand, the one that offers better leverage. You duck your face into the crook of his neck as his two fingers slide up the length of your slit, collecting the slick that’s puddled near your hole and smearing it up your lips. You can’t part your legs any further, or you’ll rip your skirt right up the seam, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You whimper softly as Steve crowds you up against the back of your seat. 

“I can’t believe you went out with no panties on,” he breathes raggedly. That same fervent, desperate arousal he displayed last night while nose-deep in your pussy bleeds into his voice, making it husky as it washes over your ear, and you shiver. 

Steve dips the tips of his fingers inside you, a groan stifled against the back of his teeth, and you suck in a breath. Is he really going to finger you here, in the theater? You’re not exactly sure what you were expecting, but knowing that anyone could turn around and see you both right now makes you simultaneously nervous and stupidly horny.

“God, you’re already so wet,” Steve rasps, fingers nudging deeper inside of you. “Have you been thinking about this the whole movie? Teasing me ‘til I played with your pussy?”

“M-Maybe,” you whimper. “I didn’t…have a concrete plan…oh, fuck–”

Steve claps his free hand over your mouth before you can loose the moan bubbling up your throat, snickering as his two fingers slide inside you. They curl as he drags them almost entirely out of your hole, leaving only the tips inside before slowly stuffing you full again. He keeps this devastatingly slow pace, fucking his fingers in so deep you ache, only to leave you mostly empty, again and again. You pant and whine against his palm, hips bucking off the seat to try and make him go faster, God, you need him to fuck you properly, but he won’t be swayed.

“You should see yourself right now,” he says against your ear. His fingers still inside you, the tips rubbing against your g-spot so that despite the people around you, you’re confident you’ll scream in frustration if he doesn’t start fucking you the way you want, the way you need. “Your cunt is drooling all over the seat, baby.”

He removes his hand from between your thighs, smirking at how you fuss and strain in an attempt to coax him back inside you. He frees your mouth, but only briefly, as his slick-soaked digits push past your lips the second you open them to protest. They don’t stop, either, sliding across your tongue and toward the back of your throat. He presses down, nearly activating your gag reflex. 

Steve watches hungrily as you hollow your cheeks and suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue over and between them to clean what remains of your slick off. The subtle way he shifts his weight catches your attention, and your gaze drifts down to his lap again.

He’s hard, you can tell, even with the inconsistent light the movie affords you. 

Embarrassingly, your mouth floods with saliva at the thought of kneeling on the sticky theater floor and swallowing Steve Harrington’s cock while the people around you innocently watch Back to the Future.

“Please,” you mewl once Steve pulls his fingers from your mouth. He hums inquisitively, tracing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

You straighten and push yourself into Steve’s space, crushing your mouths together as you reach into his lap and stroke the bulge in his jeans. A shudder ripples through his body as your fingers squeeze and rub insistently, and it only spurs you on. You deftly unhook the button on his pants and drag the zipper down as Steve explores your mouth with his tongue, hands curling around your jaw and holding you in place.

“You gonna stroke my cock in front of all these people, baby?” Steve chides playfully, nipping your bottom lip. 

“If you’ll let me.” 

He seems a bit taken aback by your answer, enough to where his mouth hovers above yours, and his dark eyes blink open. Steve examines your face, almost as if he’s trying to discern if you’re serious or just so mind-bogglingly horny that you’ll agree to anything.

You sink your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and grasp his cock, too eager to let the cogs finish turning in his head. His flesh is burning hot to the touch, and as you swipe your thumb over the swollen, thick head, you smear a pearl of precum down his shaft. 

The sound he makes once he captures your lips in a kiss again is sinful.

If it weren’t for the armrest, you’re sure he’d be pulling you into his lap right about now. Steve’s breath comes in shallow bursts as you stroke him, slow and deliberate, mimicking the pace at which he fingered you. He reaches for you, wrenching your shirt from where it’s tucked into your skirt and sliding a hand up your stomach. When he cups that hand around your breast, you gasp, and he swallows the sound greedily before pushing your bra down and out of the way.

Two things happen just as Steve brings his other hand down between your legs again: lightning crashes into the clocktower on the screen, and someone unleashes a sustained, phlegmy round of coughing. 

Steve jerks back from you, panting, pink high on his cheeks and his hair dangling in his face. He looks around, tongue darting out to wet his red, swollen lips. After a moment, he laughs and leans back, closing a hand over the one you still have jammed down his pants.

“Why’d you stop?” you ask.

“'Cause if I don’t, I’m gonna fuck your brains out in front of all these people,” he admits, eyes shining mischievously. 

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you purr, squeezing the base of his cock. He twitches but gently wraps his fingers around your wrist, guiding it out of his underwear. 

“You say that until Chief Powell locks us both up for public indecency,” he laughs. “Do you wanna come back to my place, baby? It’s a lot more comfortable and…private.”

You start nodding before he’s even got the whole sentence out. He smiles, popping a quick kiss on the tip of your nose before reclining in his seat to tuck his dick away and do his pants back up. You have to do a bit of awkward twisting and shuffling to get your bra back into place without accidentally flashing the whole room, and Steve grabs your hand before carefully leading you down the steps and toward the theater door.

“So, uh, just in case I don’t get to see it ‘til it comes out on DVD,” he whispers over his shoulder, “how’s the movie end?”

“Uh, Marty hooks his mom and dad back up, and they all end up better off in the future. His dad’s some hotshot author and makes Biff chauffeur him everywhere.”

“Good for George!”

“Oh, and Doc lives.”

Steve stops cold, holding the door halfway open before turning to face you with a puzzled expression.

“Wait, what, how’d he-”

“Steve, do you wanna stand here talking about it, or do you wanna go have sex?” you ask, patting his chest and urging him out the door.

“Right, right, sorry, just – tell me later!”

~~~

Steve’s mouth finds yours the moment his front door shuts behind the both of you.

His hand slides behind your head, partially to tangle in your hair and keep you where he wants, but also so you don’t smack it against the wall as he pins you there. A few picture frames dotted along the entryway rattle from the force, and the sound stirs a thought.

“Wait, Steve, your parents…” Your protest is weak and breathless, swallowed by a gasp as Steve kisses a trail down your neck and laves his tongue over a healing hickey. 

“Not home,” he breathes.

“Are you sure?”

“They never are,” he murmurs into your skin. 

Paranoia still flickers dimly in the back of your mind, so you crack your eyes open to look around. The oak floors beneath you gleam as if freshly polished, and the cream walls you’re pressed against are stippled with a few small pieces of geometric art. There’s a side table just beyond Steve’s back, shiny and black and dimly illuminated by a single lamp, and while you don’t spot the glint of anyone’s keys on it right away, you still aren’t convinced that means no one’s home. Stairs are crushed against the furthest wall, thick ivory fabric carpeting each step, flowing upstairs into a rectangle of darkness on the top landing.

Steve sinks his teeth into the flesh above your pulse point, ripping your attention away from the decor. You moan louder than you intended and tip your head further to the side to give him better access.

“Such a little fuckin’ tease,” Steve growls against your throat. His fingers clench, tugging your hair by the root. The pain stings sweetly across your scalp, and you suck in a breath. “You have no fucking idea how much self-control it took to not bend you over in that theater, Y/N, Jesus Christ.”

You whimper, snaking your hands up under the back of his sweatshirt. He radiates heat, and the sensation of his smooth, unblemished skin beneath your fingers makes you want to scratch grooves into it. You won’t, not yet – you don’t have a read quite yet on how much pain Steve likes intermingled with his pleasure, if any. 

His free hand glides down your thigh before hitching itself behind your knee, and you gasp as Steve hikes your leg up and over his hip, leaving you suddenly exposed. Steve’s warm, solid body swiftly replaces the cool air that tickles between your thighs as he presses himself flush against you, his bulge straining against your bare pussy in a way that makes you shiver.

“God, I could fuck you right here,” he breathes, and you’re grateful for his iron grip because, without it, your buckling knees would’ve sent you straight to the floor. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, baby. Y’know how bad I wanted to drag you back inside my car last night? Keep you all to myself?”

“Fuck, Steve,” you whine, voice muffled against his soft, sweet-smelling hair. Arousal sinks itself between your hips like lead, hot and insistent, and you grind against Steve’s denim-clad cock desperately. You’ll let him fuck you anywhere he likes – against the wall, on the floor, bent over the railing of the stairs. A perverse thrill rushes through you at the thought, and you’re about to open your mouth to beg Steve for just that when he releases his grip on your hair and leg. 

By the time you realize what’s happening, Steve’s knees have already hit the dark blue rug below you, and his fingers are squeezing your skirt over your hips. He tilts your lower half away from the wall, toward his face, by grabbing a greedy handful of your ass and pulling; you stumble a little and have to tangle both hands in his hair to keep from falling over his shoulder. He peppers kisses along your inner thigh, turning his face into the soft, malleable flesh, and you see the flash of his teeth before you feel them, nipping the juncture where your pelvis and leg meet. 

“Let’s see if I still remember our lesson,” he murmurs, a sound that vibrates up into your core and shakes a moan from your lips. His voice, though faint between your legs, is dark and strained, as if he’s barely holding himself back from ravaging you right where you stand. You don’t know how to verbalize quite yet that you want, more than anything, for Steve to just fucking take you already. You worry the wicked thoughts swirling around in your head right now, tapping their claws against your skull and whispering encouragement to you, will freak him out if you dump all of them on him at once.

Steve’s tongue flattens against your cunt, and the noise he makes as he licks up to your clit makes you shudder. He crushes you closer to him, so close you can feel the tip of his nose bumping between your folds as he gets right to work eating your pussy with the fervor of a starving man. 

“Still so fucking wet,” he mumbles. He pulls away, just far enough to spread you open with two fingers, and teases the tips around the rim of your hole. You whimper, hips bucking involuntarily, your grip tightening in Steve’s hair to keep yourself steady. His dark eyes flicker to your face; his swollen pupils eclipse the color in his irises, leaving them almost black in the dim light of the entryway. 

“You want my fingers, baby?” he asks. You nod, breathless.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He traces around your twitching entrance, gaze unwaveringly intense. You swallow hard and swear you see the corner of his mouth tic amusedly when he catches how your throat bobs with the effort.

“Yes, please, Steve,” you offer, and he sucks his teeth in admonishment. 

“C’mon, pretty girl, I thought you learned how to beg for me properly last night,” he chastises, and your stomach flips. The high, squeaky sound that ekes out of your mouth is wholly unintentional, but how the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he’s talking like that, looking at you like that, touching you like that?

“P-Please, please, Steve, I need your fingers inside me, please,” you mewl, and Steve makes a satisfied noise low in his throat. He places an approving kiss right above your clit, and if the thought of falling directly on top of him wasn’t mortifying, you’re sure you’d collapse.

“Do you wanna take my cock tonight baby?” he asks. He pushes his two fingers inside you just as your mouth drops open to answer, and you suck in a breath sharply as they curl and brush over that spot inside you. 

“God, fuck, yes, I do, please. I want your cock,” you babble.

“Are you sure? You’re not too sore?” It’s a sincere question. Truthfully, you are still sore – not terribly, not the way you were in the shower last night, but the ache pulsing in your muscles as Steve slowly, so fucking slowly, draws his fingers in and out of your pussy, is inescapable. Admittedly, though, it doesn’t discourage your arousal even one bit – you want him to fuck you until you can’t walk, to have that dull pain twinge throughout your body for days as a reminder. 

And considering how big he is, you don’t think that’ll be hard to accomplish.

“No, I’m okay, not too sore,” you assure him. 

“Yeah? You’ll let me know if it hurts too much, won’t you, pretty girl?” 

You nod, breath hitching as the pads of his fingers rub gentle circles over your g-spot. “I can take it, Steve.”

He smiles, sweet and innocent, his sunshine yellow sweatshirt rumpled and perfect hair ruffled across his forehead. He kisses your thigh again and pulls his fingers almost all the way out.

“You’ll need to take more than two fingers if you wanna fit my cock inside you,” he says simply, and plunges three fingers inside you up to the knuckle while latching his mouth over your clit.

The only reason you don’t scream is because all the oxygen has been sucked from your lungs. 

Steve drives his fingers home again and again, spreading them apart inside you while his tongue swirls over your throbbing clit. Your fingers claw at the smooth wall behind you, desperate for anything that might aid you in remaining upright, and when you can’t find it and the tremoring in your thighs threatens to overtake you, you thrust your hands into Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his face. It gives you an unencumbered view of his dark, thick eyelashes fluttering over his cheekbones as he focuses on your slit and the faint flush hueing his tanned skin. 

When your head falls back against the wall, and you moan, high and desperate, you unthinkingly ball your hands into fists. The strands of Steve’s hair go taut in your grip, and just as you’re about to whisper an apology, he groans into you. 

“Harder,” he says, breathless, a gleaming string of saliva tenuously connecting his bottom lip to your cunt. 

“Wha…” You’re borderline delirious from pleasure, which makes forming an intelligible sentence very difficult. Sensing this, Steve lifts the hand not buried knuckles deep inside you and rests it over yours, squeezing gently.

“Pull harder, baby.” 

You swallow hard. His eyes are wide open now, staring directly at your face, bright and blazing. When you oblige him, clench your fingers and tug at the root of Steve’s hair with both hands, hard enough to make his head tip back, his lids flicker, and a smirk sprawls across his reddened lips. The gasp that passes through them clenches your stomach, and his approval inspires you to pull his head back further.

“Fuck,” he growls. 

“That feel nice?” you ask, and Steve nods as best he can. He looks fucking divine like this; slick lips parted to allow shallow breaths, gazing up at you like you’re the only person in the universe who matters. You wonder if he’ll ever let you take the reins, if he’d let you pluck him apart, piece by piece, just as he’s done to you, only to paste him back together at your leisure.

The thought makes you shiver, and you gush a bit around his fingers.

He’s broken free of your grasp just as quickly as he invited it, however, and when he dives back into your cunt, he’s abandoned all pretense. He laps at your clit with long, flat strokes of his tongue and purposefully thrusts his three fingers against your g-spot, curling them tight and pumping so fast you can see the veins twitching in his bicep. Your pussy makes wet, obscene sounds as he fucks into it, and the embarrassment that tinges the edge of your arousal at that fact brings you closer to orgasm than you were expecting.

“S-Steve, Steve, God, fuck, I’m gonna cum, please, I wanna cum,” you blurt out, and he hums affirmatively. Without warning, you feel the tip of his pinky finger nudging against your hole.

“Cum for me,” he says – rather, he demands it of you. “Cum on my fingers if you wanna earn my cock, baby.”

Earn it. That thought, and the sweet, burning stretch of his four fingers inside your spasming pussy send you tumbling over the edge. You scream so loud you worry any neighbor Steve has will think he’s trying to kill you. In all fairness, he may be – you cum so hard that once your scream fizzles out, it’s impossible to draw in an adequate breath, so you’re just left paralyzed, choking on your own tongue, trembling on Steve’s deft fingers and mouth.

He milks it for as long as he can, chuckling against your folds when you finally gather the wherewithal to whine and push weakly at his forehead after your pleasure ripens into pain. When he pulls his fingers out, all four shimmer with slick, and it takes you a beat to realize your thighs are warm and wet from your orgasm, all the way down to your knees. The small puddle of your own cum that’s collected between your shoes glistens mockingly up at you. 

“Okay…you have to at least let me clean that up,” you pant, jutting your chin toward your mess. Steve laughs and sucks a kiss into one of the few unblemished areas of your inner thigh you have left.

“It’ll dry, don’t worry about it. You can clean this for me, though.”

Steve reaches up and presses all four fingers into your mouth. You moan, a wholly compulsory sound, but obediently twirl your tongue over the digits, doing precisely as he asked and cleaning your cum from his skin. As you do, Steve murmurs praise into your flesh between featherlight kisses, trailing them across both thighs and either side of your hips as he raises himself higher on his knees. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, retrieving his fingers from your mouth. You’re about to thank him when he presses you flush against the wall again. You find yourself upside down before you can ask what he’s doing.

Steve has hoisted you up and over his shoulder, not unlike a literal sack of potatoes, and you’re now completely inverted, blood rushing to your head but enjoying an eyeful of Steve’s ass in his jeans. The fabric of your skirt is still bunched up around your hips, leaving your bare ass fully exposed, and you reflexively reach back to cover it as Steve darts up the staircase. Your body bounces on the rounded edge of his shoulder, which digs a bit unpleasantly into the soft pouch of your stomach, but you find yourself giggling uncontrollably all the same. His strength impresses and arouses you all over again.

“Sorry, baby, I just don’t fully trust you to walk all the way to my room on those shaky legs,” Steve says, mirth belying his apology. You’d like to argue, but he isn’t wrong. Even as they dangle uselessly across Steve’s torso, your thighs tremble. At this rate, you would’ve been lucky if they cooperated enough to let you crawl after Steve to his bedroom.

Although…

Before you can entertain that thought, you’re flying through the air. The springs of Steve’s bed shriek as you land atop it in a heap, making you wonder if they always squeak like that. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Steve says, arms crossed over his torso and hands gripping the hem of his sweatshirt. You look around – aside from a few crumpled pieces of paper on a desk and a moderate pile of rumpled clothes in one corner, the room is spotless. The walls and curtains are matching shades of plaid, and more oak furniture crowds the corners. You take a deep breath, expecting Steve’s cologne to waft sweetly up your nose, but instead, you inhale the scent of dust. There isn’t much here to denote that the room belongs to a college-aged man, let alone that he spends any meaningful amount of time in it. It looks more like a well-used guest room, aside from the forest green sleeve of Steve’s varsity jacket peeking out from the cracked closet door and a singular framed picture on his desk. The features of the two figures are bathed in shadow, but you can tell by the exaggerated swoop of hair on the taller one that it’s Steve with…someone.

It makes you sad, Steve’s room.

You sit on your knees and shuffle toward him as he peels off his shirt, laying your hands over his to stop him.

“Let me,” you whisper. 

He pauses, a sliver of smooth skin visible through the gap he’s made in his clothes, and you catch a glimpse of his happy trail just above his belt buckle. One hand drifts downward, and your fingers press tentatively into that thatch of hair. Steve’s stomach is a hard wall of muscle protected by soft flesh that pudges out around your fingertips slightly, and the way he tenses beneath your touch doesn’t escape your notice. His eyes glitter in the room's dim light, flickering over your face, searching. 

“Please?” you add, and he smiles.

He drops both arms to his sides, allowing you to slide your palms along his waist and lift the sweatshirt from his body. Dark, coarse hair swirls across his chest, dipping between his pectorals in a thin line before reappearing above the waistband of his jeans; beneath the sparse edges of his body hair, you’re able to pick out dozens of freckles and beauty marks dappled along the lean, tan expanse of his torso. The sleeves of his sweatshirt flip inside out and cling to his wrists as you tug the last of it off, and you both giggle when the neckline snags on the tip of his nose before snapping over his forehead. 

You sit back on your haunches, hands hovering above his body, unsure of where to settle first. He’s so fucking pretty, you want to touch everywhere at once, from the broad line of his shoulders to the divots along his pelvis.

You don’t have long to think about it. Steve slips both hands behind your knees and pulls; your back hits the bed in a squeal of springs and a whoosh of air, and as your thighs spread instinctively, the riiiiip of your skirt splitting clean up the seams catches his attention.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Steve chuckles, pinching a jagged flap of fabric between his fingers. It’s unsalvageable, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You squeeze what remains of the waistband down your hips and drop the scraps off the edge of his bed, giggling.

“You’re gonna owe me a whole new wardrobe at this rate,” you say, and Steve presses an apologetic kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll get you the best a Family Video salary can buy,” he promises. Then, two fingers are buried inside of you to the knuckles, and any witty retort you had loaded up for him dissipates on the breath that hisses out through your teeth.

“Fucking – oh, my God,” you groan, stretching out the last word as Steve plunges his fingers in and out of your cunt. He tilts his hand slightly so that he’s brushing up against your g-spot every time, and you would be embarrassed about the pathetic little whimpers tumbling from your lips if you had the wherewithal for shame at this juncture. Your back arches, driving your head into the pillow, but Steve’s free hand tangles itself in your hair and forces you into a semi-sitting position.

“I want you to watch, baby,” he murmurs. “Watch how you take me.” 

“Please, Steve, more, please, I can take it,” you pant, eyelashes fluttering as you watch Steve’s glistening fingers vanish and reappear rhythmically. He laughs against the shell of your ear before kissing your temple.

“I know you can take more of my fingers, pretty girl. I watched you do that,” he coos, voice rife with singsongy condescension. “Unless that’s not what you mean.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you whine, and you don’t think you’ve ever sounded so petulant in your entire life. Steve’s fingers still, and he makes a quizzical Hm? sound high in his throat before deliberately dragging tight, fast circles around your g-spot. The veins in his forearm pulse and bulge with the effort, and he’s gone and sucked all the air out of your lungs, so you can’t even answer him when he says, “Then use your words and tell me what you need.”

For a few seconds, your brain goes blank. Pleasure thrums through every nerve in your body until your skin is prickling with heat, gooseflesh rising on your thighs despite the sweat beading at your hairline, and the realization that you’re already close again cracks through your skull like lightning. You grab Steve’s wrist, though you’re torn on if you want to push him away or pull him in deeper. It’s too much, it’s far too much and yet it’s not nearly enough at the same time because it’s not his cock, and you need his cock, so finally, you draw in a shallow breath, swallow what little saliva remains in your mouth, and you tell him.

“I need your cock, please, Steve. I need your fucking cock so badly, please just give it to me.”

“That’s my girl.”

Steve crawls between your legs, aptly slipping his belt out of his jeans and whipping it to the other end of the room. As he strips his pants off – you bite back a laugh, watching him struggle to rip his foot out of one of the legs – you sit forward slightly and peel off your Heart T-shirt. Fresh air cools your flushed skin while you reach behind yourself, awkwardly attempting to unclasp your bra and still look sexy, a feat you don’t think has ever been accomplished.

“I got it,” Steve says, and as he presses himself against you, head hanging over your shoulder and fingers adeptly unhooking the tiny metal hoops, something hot and hard rubs between your legs. You look down and realize he’s already stripped himself of his briefs, and once your bra falls away, discarded alongside your shirt, you see the flushed length of his cock bobbing slightly between his hips. 

Your mouth fills with saliva. It’s like you can still taste him, heady and salty and perfect, on the back of your tongue, and for a moment, you want to beg him to fill your throat over and over again. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Steve murmurs, lips trailing down the side of your neck, then your collarbone, before both hands rise to cup your now bare tits, and his mouth glides along your heated flesh. When he closes it around a nipple and laves his tongue around it in slow circles, you arch your back, moaning with abandon; Steve inches closer, the head of his cock nudging more insistently against your cunt. He repeats his ministrations on the other nipple, hands kneading and squeezing the pliant skin of your chest gently until you’re whining and bucking against him.

“You ready, baby?” he purrs. He lifts his eyes to yours, pupils blown so wide and black within his dark irises that it’s like staring into twin pools of ink. You open your mouth to respond just as Steve grips himself by the base of his cock and grinds the shaft against your soaked slit, up and down, up and down, grazing your clit with every stroke. If you weren’t so smitten by him, you’d fucking kill him.

Growling, you plunge both hands into his hair, tugging hard at the locks by his temples as you did before, and Steve’s shocked gasp skitters across your face. 

“Fuck me before I lose my goddamned mind,” you pant, voice much less authoritative than you’d like it to be. You compensate by jerking Steve’s head back, punctuating your demand, and he laughs. 

“If you insist.”

Both of your wrists are swept up in one of his hands and pinned above your head so fast you don’t have time to react. The head of his cock presses against your hole, thick and hot. Despite his thorough prep work, you can tell this will still be quite the stretch. You hitch your legs up over his hips as he prods further, keening and squirming as your pussy struggles to accommodate the sheer girth of him – it fucking burns, but the pain doesn’t discourage you in the slightest. Still, you can’t help the pitiful mewls that fall from your lips, nor the way your body thrashes against Steve’s iron grip.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, voice rough with arousal. “You can take it. I know you can. Just relax. Does it hurt?”

“K-Kinda.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Fuck no, please don’t stop,” you plead, and Steve huffs out a laugh. 

When the head finally pops inside you, you reflexively bear down on it and release a broken moan through gritted teeth, and Steve’s low groan reverberates through your body. “So fucking tight, fuck baby,” he moans, and just as your lips part to beg him to keep going, he thrusts in another inch. Steve pushes inside of you slowly and steadily, sucking air through his teeth and screwing his eyes shut so tight you wonder if he’s consciously keeping himself from cumming already.

Then – he pulls out.

Fuck it. You’re gonna kill him and kill him slowly.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he wheezes, scrambling off the bed and leaving you with a spasming, achingly empty hole and questions on your tongue. The low lighting doesn’t afford you much clarity on what Steve is doing. Under normal circumstances, you’d probably find the way he’s frenziedly flitting about the room, naked as the day he was born, funny, but you are legs akimbo on his bed, alone, with nary an explanation as to why he pulled his dick out of you in the first place.

It dawns on you when he finds what he’s looking for and kneels on the bed again, and the slim plastic wrapper in his hand gleams in the lamplight.

Duh.

“I completely forgot,” he says, smiling bashfully as he frees the condom from its wrapper and rolls it down over his flushed cock. You can’t help it – you’re disappointed he’s not gonna be fucking you raw tonight. You understand why he can’t, why you can’t let him, of course, and if you’d had your wits about you, you’d have reminded him about it yourself. But still. 

Steve kisses your forehead as he lines himself up with your cunt again, and this time, he doesn’t make you beg at all – he thrusts almost half his length inside of you in one go, and you forget all about the condom for the moment.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, Steve!” You twist his sheets up into your fists, shocked you don’t tear a hole clean through the fabric, and your mouth hangs open as Steve bullies his cock deeper inside you. Pleasure rumbles through him, something you feel rather than hear at first because he leans over you, one hand supporting the small of your back, lifting you partially off the bed, and presses your bodies together. He plants wet kisses along the side of your neck and down your chest, breath washing over your skin as he pants raggedly. 

“You have no idea how hard it was to not just fuck you raw, baby,” he murmurs. A shiver ripples down your back and you moan, the sound swinging high and cracking in your throat because that is maybe the hottest thing he could have said in this moment. 

“I would’ve let you,” you admit, the words slipping from your mouth without much thought given to them, and perhaps you’d be embarrassed at your stark honesty, or how desperate you sound if Steve didn’t groan so deliciously in your ear afterward and start snapping his hips forward faster.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, breathless. With every thrust, he buries himself just a bit deeper inside you, and the ever-increasing fullness makes it hard to think, let alone maintain any sort of filter on your words. It still burns just that little bit, enough to remind you that you’ve never had anything – or anyone – this big inside of you before, and it just makes this sweeter. 

“God, yes, absolutely,” you huff, because it’s true – you’d never admit it to him, would never tell a single soul or even pen it in the margins of your diary, but you have spent more than one sleepless night in your life with your hand jammed down the front of your underwear, fantasizing about Steve Harrington filling your pussy with load after load until his cum dribbled steadily out of your thoroughly used hole. You’d always flush with embarrassment afterward, when the warm glow of your orgasm had faded and you had to deal with your soaked sheets before they went cold under your ass, mostly because, at that point, you’d hardly said five words to the guy. 

Steve adjusts his grip, hands sliding from your back to behind both knees before he pushes them toward your chest. When he bucks against you next, it’s all you can do not to scream. He can get so fucking deep at this angle, with your hips tilted up and Steve looming over you, and you’re positively flabbergasted when you look down between your bodies and realize he hasn’t even pushed his entire length inside of you yet. You’re brimming with him, entirely full, you don’t think you could take another inch, but still you whine and look up at him through your lashes.

“Deeper,” you plead, weakly gripping his elbows for purchase. “P-Please, deeper…more…”

 He chuckles, a low sound that rolls like thunder through your body and makes gooseflesh prickle across your skin, and when he pushes a sweat-damp clump of hair from his eyes, you realize just how bright they are. The way they flash at you, coupled with the sheen of sweat glistening off his pinked cheeks and the parting of his red, swollen lips to allow passage for his heaving breaths makes you wish you had a camera. You’d live in this moment forever if you could, Steve pounding you into the mattress and gazing at you like this, like you’re the only thing in the world he cares about.

“You’re fuckin’ twitching around me, baby, are you gonna cum already?” he asks, and the question drops you back into your body at once, though you weren’t aware you’d been floating out of it in the first place. He’s right – without having even acknowledged your clit the entire time Steve’s had his cock inside of you, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, your cunt fluttering sporadically around his length. You open your mouth to reply, but no sound beyond gasping breath comes out, and this is apparently greatly amusing to Steve.

“Oh, you are, aren’t you? My pretty girl’s gonna cum all over my cock and I’ve barely even started, huh?” 

His words are like a crank winding an invisible cord that stretches from your core to your clit, one that has already been pulled so taut that you don’t think it’ll withstand his mouth much longer. You want to cum so fucking badly, but you also don’t want to be finished yet, and before you can verbalize any of that to Steve, he’s bearing down on you and pushing your thighs even further back. You’re not sure how you manage it, because you could’ve sworn you were not this flexible before tonight, but Steve forces your legs almost flush against your shoulders and slots both arms behind your knees, so you can’t close them even if you wanted to; he crowds against you, the full weight of his body now accompanying each thrust as he obliges your earlier request and sinks deeper into your drooling pussy than you thought possible.

Your mind goes blissfully blank. The tether in your belly snaps, and you start cumming so hard on Steve’s cock that you can’t even manage a scream – your mouth opens, a perfectly rounded O as your eyes screw themselves shut, and your back arches off his bed, your orgasm igniting every nerve in your body until you’re little more than a writhing live wire. It’s intense – that’s the only word you have for it, understatement of the century though it may be. You clench so tight around Steve that you’re shocked you don’t force him out of you, and he just keeps fucking you through it.

“That’s it, baby,” he croons, swiping the hair from your face with one hand and holding you in place. “That’s it, good girl, keep cumming for me, fuck, I can feel you soaking my cock–” 

“Steve, fuck, fuck, God, don’t stop, please,” you wheeze, your pleasure ebbing just enough for you to draw a small breath and find your voice again. You reach up, fingers shaking before settling in his hair, and tug the locks at the nape of his neck as your body trembles uncontrollably. Though he does moan in that way you’re rapidly becoming addicted to as you pull his hair, he slows his pace to a devastatingly slow grind and releases your legs. They flop uselessly down onto the bed, tingling with pins and needles, and you whimper pitifully as Steve takes this moment to sit up on his heels.

“Steve–”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, resting both hands on your aching hips and kneading small circles into the soft flesh with his thumbs. “I’m here.”

“Did you…?” You glance down at where your bodies are still joined, and Steve snorts.

“Almost. That’s why I had to stop for a sec. You just feel too fucking good.”

You can’t help the smug grin that creeps across your lips. You’re tempted to rock against him anyway, or perhaps even knock him backward and ride him until he can’t take it anymore, but your leaden limbs forbid you from making any significant strides toward either option. Steve pants above you, hands slowly migrating up the squishy expanse of your stomach, past your breasts, and finally landing on either side of your jaw before he licks his lips and bends toward you. He kisses you, chaste and gentle, a featherlight brush of his mouth against yours, and his thumbs press somewhat insistently at your temples.

“You’re crying,” he informs you, and again, it’s Steve’s observation that brings you back to your body – the sides of your face are wet, and if you turn your head at all, you can feel your damp hair sliding around on the pillow. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm…very, very okay,” you purr. “Jus’ felt good, that’s all…”

If your orgasm was like a firework shooting off and exploding inside of you, the afterglow you’re nestled in is like a warm bath, with every inch of you buzzing pleasantly in sluggish pleasure. Steve kisses you again, trailing his lips up past your cheekbone so he can plant them square in the middle of your sweaty forehead. The juxtaposition of this tenderness, the capacity he has to be so gentle with you after he just had you bent in half and seemed hellbent on fucking you through the bed, makes your stomach flutter with the kind of girlish giddiness only Steve can bring out of you. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” he asks. His cock throbs inside of you, but when he pulls back far enough to flash you that sweet, lopsided smile of his you know he’d roll off in a heartbeat if you asked him to. But you do not want him to do that, not even slightly, so you find the strength to lift your thighs and wrap them around his hips before you nod, grinning dopily, and say, “Please keep fucking me, Steve.”

His mouth is on yours before you’re finished saying his name. His movements have slowed, from the glide of his tongue past your lips to the roll of his hips, and he greedily swallows the keening whines that bubble up from your throat as his cock drags along your oversensitive walls. Your breath hitches every time he pushes himself as deep as he can go, something he makes a note of with a laugh and a playful nip to your bottom lip.

“You like being full of my cock, huh, beautiful?” he murmurs, ducking his head. He’s seemingly decided you need more hickeys, as evidenced by the way he starts sucking on a patch of flesh just beneath your ear like he’s trying to draw blood from the thumping veins below. 

“S-So much, yeah.”

“Yeah? That’s not even all of it, baby.”

“It’s not?” you whine, incredulous, and Steve snickers against your skin, shaking his head. 

“No, but I think it’d hurt if I tried to fit it all inside of you,” he says, and there’s something sharp in his voice – something mocking. 

“You don’t know that,” you huff, and Steve hums against your throat. 

He takes one of your hands in his, guiding it toward where he’s buried inside you, and says, “Feel that? Feel how nice and full you are now?”

You nod. Steve drops your hand. “Now feel how much of me is still left,” he says.

You do, fingers twitching along the length that remains outside of you, and you’re shocked. There must be at least two inches that Steve has yet to stuff you with, or perhaps that he physically can’t stuff you with, and while you want so badly for him to just shove the rest of it inside, you consider he may be right. His thick cockhead pulses where it’s resting inside your pussy, nestled against the very back of you; any deeper, he’d certainly hit your cervix, something you’ve experienced before with other (clumsy, inconsiderate, douchey) partners and would very much so like to never experience again. Still, your pride weathers this slight blow, and you compensate by wrapping your fingers around the bit of Steve’s cock that you can’t accommodate.

“Fuck,” he moans, drawing the word out nice and long as you start to jerk him off. He lifts his head from your throat, mouth curling into a shocked smile as he rocks his hips into your fist and, consequently, your cunt. “That’s…fuck, that’s really hot, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Your voice is breathy, and pleasure sparks anew throughout your core. You have to twist your wrist at a slightly odd angle to get a grip on him with both of your bodies in the way, and your fingers keep slipping in the ample lubrication your pussy supplies, so it’s perhaps the clumsiest handjob you’ve ever given, but Steve doesn’t seem to care. He thrusts into you messily, brows pinched and swollen mouth dropped open as he chases his peak inside you, and your free hand raises to cup the side of his face.

“Cum in me,” you whisper, and the broken sound that tumbles from Steve’s lips spurs you on. You push back against him and bear down on his cock at the same time you squeeze your fist, the rubber rim of the condom skidding beneath your fingers. He slumps forward, pressing his cheek into your palm, hands shooting out to catch himself before he falls headlong into your chest. Sweat beads at his hairline and trickles down the long column of his throat before pooling in the hollow at the base, and the sight is so tempting you sit up and lave your tongue over his salty skin. 

“Cum in me,” you say again, “please, Steve. I need it, please, please.” 

“God-fucking-dammit,” he growls, his hips stuttering, chest heaving, and not a second later, he’s cumming. You can’t feel his load inside you – a fact that inspires a non-zero amount of disappointment that hasn’t abated since the second he slid the condom on – but watching him cum is enough to make that disappointment vanish. He goes silent for a beat as his peak overwhelms him, but when his cock starts to pulse inside your cunt and within your loose fist, fresh moans rip themselves from his throat, and you are so fucking thankful that Steve Harrington is not afraid to be loud for you. His body tenses and shudders as he pumps into you erratically. 

Just as you think he’s finished, and you’ve begun to take your cramping hand back, Steve stops you. He’s panting, gasping for air like he’s just finished a marathon, and his eyes are positively sparkling. He places your hand back on your pussy, and when you don’t move, he nods his head.

“Make yourself cum for me again,” he says simply, and it’s all you can do not to balk at him.

“But you just–”

“Don’t care. You can give me one more, baby.” 

Of all the things you’ve done tonight – in the last 48 hours, really – touching yourself in full view of Steve is the thing that makes you blush the deepest. You swallow thickly, fingers hesitating over your admittedly swollen clit, and Steve chuckles. He’s not as hard as he was moments ago, and you can feel him softening the longer he remains inside you, but that doesn’t stop him from jerking his hips forward harder in encouragement.

“C’mon, you’re gonna give me one more,” he insists. “Touch that pretty pussy for me, show me how you do it when you’re all by yourself.”

Well, when he says it like that.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and make quick work of your clit, rubbing circles around the throbbing bud as Steve fucks you fast and sloppy. You really didn’t think you had it in you at first, but once again, your body seems to have an endless capacity for orgasms when you’re around Steve – the coil in your belly winds itself quickly this time, burning blood-hot between your hips and readying itself to snap faster than you’ve ever experienced before. A wicked thought crosses your mind then, one that involves Steve testing just how quickly he can make you cum, and how many times he can replicate that speed, and you resolve to bring it up to him at a later date as your pussy spasms and Steve moans above you.

“Fuck yes, I can feel you getting close, that’s it,” he babbles, breathy laughter carrying his reassurance, and with one last well-placed thrust, you’re cumming on his cock again. God help you, there’s a splash, and wet heat soaks between your fingers as Steve fucks you through your orgasm, audibly impressed with how much you cum this time.

“Good fucking girl, I knew you had it in you. Shoulda put a towel down.”

You’d shush him if you had any air in your lungs. 

He pulls out and delicately unwinds your trembling thighs from his hips, beaming at you the whole time he peels the condom off his dick and disposes of it in a small wastebasket. When he returns to the bed, he scoops you up and rolls you over, placing himself in the wet spot you’ve created and dragging you on top of him so all you can feel is his solid warmth. He peppers kisses along your dampened hairline and gently strokes both hands up and down the length of your spine, pausing above the swell of your ass to knead his fingers into your heated flesh a few times. Your hearts are pounding, and for a moment, you swear they beat in sync. You tell yourself it must be the post-orgasm endorphin drop making the world a little rosier than it truly is.

“I’m so proud of you, pretty girl,” Steve murmurs, pressing his lips to your forehead and tilting your face toward his. His cheeks still have an adorable flush to them, and his hair is slicked away from his face with sweat. You note the twin moles stamped on the left side of his face, right on the apple of his cheek, and surge forward on your elbow to capture them in a kiss. 

“You feel okay?” he asks. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I kinda wanted you to, but–”

“Oh?”

Motherfuck. You and your big mouth. 

“Uh…” Steve stares at you, eyes bright and curious, and the corner of his mouth flirts with a grin. He looks…intrigued? You don’t know why that’s so shocking, considering you’ve yanked on his hair like they were a horse’s reins multiple times tonight and he nearly melted in your hands, but you blush all the same under his gaze and chew your bottom lip.

“We can definitely talk about that,” he says, and his voice is surprisingly soft given the mischievous look on his handsome face. 

“Really?”

“Well, I mean, kinda depends on what you mean by “hurt” you,” he adds, raising two fingers to twitch around the word “hurt.” “D’you mean, like, get a lil’ rough with you, or…like, stick you with a cattle prod?”

“Cattle prod,” you deadpan, and in the beat of silence that follows, genuine fear flashes across Steve’s face. You snort, smacking him lightly in the center of his chest, and his abdominal muscles relax noticeably beneath you. 

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t thoroughly enjoy everything that you just did, by the way,” you clarify, flattening your palm between his pecs and idly mussing his chest hair. “‘Cause I did. I just…like it a little rougher, sometimes, too.”

“I can do rougher,” Steve asserts, pinching a lock of your hair between thumb and forefinger and delicately tucking it behind your ear. Your belly flutters at the prospect, and though you already have suggestions bubbling up your throat, your tongue feels too thick in your mouth to adequately communicate any of them. In fact, the more Steve caresses your body, the heavier you feel, and it’s only after his face begins to blur that you realize that your eyelids are drooping.

“Tired?” he laughs as you blink a few times.

“Mmm,” you mumble, noncommittal, even as your head comes down to nuzzle into his neck and your thoughts go fuzzy at the edges. “Can’t sleep…curfew…”

“I’ll wake you up,” he promises. “Just nap, baby, it’s okay. I got you.”

You grumble again, a piss-poor argument that Steve does not heed. Instead, he drags his fingers through the hair on the side of your head, careful not to snag on any tangles, his touch so light it makes you shiver. It is impossible to ignore the pull of unconsciousness when someone is playing with your hair, that’s just an objective fact, and so you sigh, limbs loosening and body going slack on top of Steve’s as he lulls you deeper into darkness.

~~~

Turns out, Steve’s sweatpants fit you.

Well, maybe “fit” is being generous – you had to knot the drawstrings as tight as they would go to keep the waistband above your hips, and it still slings well below the curve of your pelvis if you don’t bunch the front up in your fist and manually hold it up. They’re also comically long, and you’ve had to cuff the legs three times over just to make sure you don’t trip over the fabric that otherwise puddles around your feet.

The heater purrs as it drools warmth into the interior of Steve’s car, a welcome reprieve from the freezing October air that presses against the windows. They’re fogged, and you absently draw little doodles on the misty glass with one finger. Queen’s second self-titled album plays faintly, a throbbing bassline and Freddie Mercury’s crooning vocals filling the narrow space between you and Steve.

“I didn’t peg you as a Queen guy,” you say, gesturing in the direction of his cassette deck, your hand interlocked with his and beside the gear shift. He scoffs.

“You kidding? I love Queen,” he says emphatically and takes his hand off the steering wheel for a moment to spin the volume dial. As he does, the song changes, bleeding seamlessly into the next one; Freddie’s voice reaches its peak just as a few bright notes are plunked on a piano, and a beat is thudded out on the drums. Steve sings along, loudly, and though you can tell he’s not being serious about it, his voice is smooth and clear. You’re so enamored by the sight of him that the lyrics don’t register right away, not until he leans into your space, eyes pinned fastidiously to the darkened road ahead, and sings at you.

“Funny how love is everywhere, just look and see.”

They’re just words, not even Steve’s words, but your cheeks color nonetheless.

“Funny how love is anywhere you’re bound to be.” His gaze flickers from the road for a moment, one singular moment, and he looks right at you. Your belly flips, and the heat in your face burns all the way down your neck. If it were anyone else, literally any other human being on the planet, you’d be tucking and rolling out of the car the moment they started serenading you, even as a joke – but this is Steve, and he’s smiling so wide, and he’s fucking harmonizing with Freddie Mercury, and he shakes your intertwined hands to the beat as he does it, so you’re content to sit here and let him give you a rendition of the entire rest of the album if he wants to. 

You definitely don’t get hung up on the fact that he looked you in the eye while he sang about love. Nope. Not at all.

The song peters out just as Steve pulls up to your house, and he checks his watch as he puts the car in park, nodding at the glowing numbers proudly.

“Back, and with five minutes to spare this time,” he announces.

“I’ll have to tip you for the excellent service,” you tease.

“I accept cash, credit, or a kiss on the lips,” Steve shoots back, already dragging you toward him and leaning his body over the gear shift. You giggle, and he swallows the sound, pressing his warm mouth against yours so tenderly you’d hardly believe the filth it’s capable of if you weren’t a firsthand witness.

He helps you shrug your jacket on before you step out of the car, and the chill of the night gusts against you so intently you can’t help but shudder. You stoop down as he rolls the passenger side window down for you, just as you had the night before.

“You comin’ to movie night on Sunday?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t miss it. D’you think Robin will let me pick if it’s my first time? And I ask her so nicely?”

“I think you’d have a better shot at winning the lottery and getting struck by lightning on the same day,” Steve estimates, “but I can check. Who knows, maybe she’ll be feeling generous.”

“Tell her I’ll bring extra hot chips if she is.”

Steve laughs, and both hands come up to cup the sides of your face. He kisses you again, and this time it’s slower, languid, a purposeful prolonging of your departure. You gladly accept it, and again, there’s a pang in your stomach, a desperate want to hop back in the car with him and not let the night end. When he pulls away from you, playfully nipping your bottom lip, Steve murmurs something against your lips that makes you feel like Earth has stopped spinning.

“D’you wanna be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

The innocence, the painful earnestness of the question strikes you, makes the breath catch in your throat, and Steve’s eyes glitter with starlight as he looks up at you. “It’s probably kinda silly, considering…well, considering, but, I mean, I wanted to…yanno, ask, formally…I know it’s only been two dates, but, I just, I really like you, and I wanna keep doing this, seeing you, and I wanna be the only one seeing you –”

“Like there could be anyone else,” you breathe, and this time it’s your own words that shock you. You could see the whirlwind beginning in his head, the anxious avalanche of words to defend himself from potential humiliation, so you just blurted that out because, well, duh, of course there isn’t anyone else you’d want to be with. You knew that from the second he picked you up with flowers in his hand last night.

He perks visibly. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, it’s a yes.” 

You hear the door whoosh open, slam shut, and gravel crunching underfoot before you register that Steve has gotten out of the car and is rounding on you. When he grabs you, one hand supporting the small of your back, the other plunging into your hair, and dips you backward to plant a kiss on your mouth, you try your damndest not to focus on the fact that not only is he not wearing shoes, but his socks are mismatched – one white tube sock, one black with green swirls. You mostly succeed, and you think the giggle that tickles against his lips passes as one of shock. 

As he tips you upright, something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. A light is flickering from your house, and as you squint against it, you realize it’s not the flicker of an old bulb fizzling out. It’s measured, a steady pattern, and the reason for this is quickly made apparent as the dark shape of your mother floats in front of the curtains. She’s flicking the porch light on and off, signaling for you to hurry it up, and you’re torn on whether you wanna die right on the spot, or march up the driveway and throttle her.

“That’s my cue,” you sigh, but when you turn to look at Steve, there’s something odd about his expression. He’s fixated on the light, which casts scattered shadows across the angles of his face, and his eyes are sort of…glazed. There’s a faraway look to them, as though he’s gone somewhere in his head that you can’t reach.

“Steve?” You thump his chest once, not too hard, and he inhales sharply through his nose. He blinks a few times before shaking his head, like he’s physically shucking whatever unpleasantness was burdening him off, and just like that, he’s himself again.

“I’ll pick you up Sunday afternoon,” he says, kissing you one last time on the forehead before allowing you to step out of his embrace. You want to ask what that was, where he went just now, why his eyes keep flitting almost nervously between you and your porch light – perhaps the threat of your mother scares him that much? – but you don’t have time. You both part from each other slowly, him walking backward toward his car, you retreating up your driveway.

“I’ll pick something good!” you holler, and Steve nods.

“See you then, baby.” 

You’re backing up against the front steps of your house as Steve disappears into his front seat, and the sound of your front door opening is muted by the revv of his engine.

“Right on time,” your mother says from behind you, shadow obstructing the yellowy light that spills onto the porch. You look over your shoulder at her, eyes narrowed.

“You know, I’m legally an adult,” you point out, “I shouldn’t have a curfew.”

“He’s got a nice car,” Mom says, craning her neck to look around you and tucking the fuzzy blue halves of her robe tighter against her body. “Does he drive like a maniac?”

“Yes, he’s like Dale Earnhardt but worse,” you snark, eyes glued to the glittering shell of Steve’s BMW as it curves down the street and into the yawning mouth of the night.

He does have a nice car…your boyfriend has a nice car. The word is like helium, lifting you off the ground and floating you inside the house.

“Wait…weren’t you wearing a skirt when you left?” Mom asks as you glide past her. “Where did you get those sweats from?”

Oops.

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[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 20: Choking

Pairing: ITZY Yeji  x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,582

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Going somewhere, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

She’s a killer and a villain—those eyes strike daggers towards you to distance yourself away from her because if you don’t, then you’ll feel her wrath and you’re not going to like it. Stuck on an elevator, she seem repugnant about your demeanor, more so, your existence—you weren’t even lying onto that line but you guess that’s just how she judges you, and you’re in power to influence her with that as one word that comes out of your mouth is just drawing yourself closer to hell.

Of course, you love the risk and you’ll break it apart from her, no matter what happens.

“I don’t know why you are acting like this, Yeji?”

“And why the fuck are you even here?” Yeji retorts, laced with venom as her fierce eyes glared at you, making you pique your interest about her even more.

“I’ll attend a party, that’s why and you can’t stop me, Yeji.”

“I don’t fucking care—go on and just don’t be near me.” You can sense how she really despises you and it’s all going well according to plan—even though you know how she truly doesn’t like your presence, you can sense how it’s maybe a faux demeanor of hers and it’s a strong one. Maybe it’s just your way of clothing that she intensely disgusts because you caught her in the act—her eyes really lit up once she saw your body and you could only think of how she’s thirsty for you but of course, she needs to act tough because she’s always been like that.

“You know and probably, everybody knows in this company how I always like riding in elevators alone, unless it’s the specific people I want in and your stubborn brain probably didn’t know this, don’t you?” Yeji remarks and slaps you with what she’s entitled to and of course, you brush those off because the world doesn’t always go on her path, even luck not even lying on her side as always.

“I’m not stubborn and that’s not how it always works, Yeji—” Your choice of words infuriates her as she glares at you, her rage unable to be contained further as she lashes out how she’s so ungrateful to be in the same, compact space with her and god, you just want to shut that bratty mouth of hers.

“You shut the fuck up and listen—my dad is the C—E—fucking—O of this company and you wouldn’t dare to—oh!” The both of you yelp in response as the elevator thuds a little, knowing something’s off and that hint of anxiety kicking in because of the fear coursing down your veins.

“Fuck, we’re stuck in the elevator—oh no…”

“Yeah no shit, smarthead…” Yeji chides as the latter is filled with sarcasm, feeling uneasy as she doesn’t want to be late to the party upstairs and quickly contacts the emergency services but with an expected response, they wouldn’t meet Yeji’s complaints as you laugh because of her immediate panic and struggles.

“Twenty minutes? You’re joking, right? But please, can you just be quick cause’ I don’t want to die here because of suffocation! I’m telling this to my daddy!!”

You know that she’s over exaggerating and selfish, in all means because first of all: elevators are ventilated and you neither of you will suffocate because of this and second of all, she should’ve expected the slow service and just be patient, not acting like a goddamn brat just because of her connections and nepotism—god, you really hate her but you can’t lie, you find her incredibly hot and pretty that you just want to teach her a lesson that will sure make her a different person once you’re done with her but that would be settling on your imagination, for now.

“Stop over exaggerating Yeji, we will be fine here—”

“Shut up, loser! If it weren’t for you, this wouldn’t happen! You’re such a walking bad luck, argh, gosh!” Of course, Yeji would always respond like her anger is boiling through the roof and holding a deep grudge against you—you barely know each other and she’s acting like a psychotic freak who's always thinking for herself and you, will change that.

“You know your whining wouldn’t help anything, Yeji.” You feign a little concern over her, knowing that having a calm disposition and being completely composed would make both of your minds in a better state but because of her stubbornness and the unwilling act towards your suggestions, it will just put some salt onto the wound as she whines more because of you and how she detests you.

“Just shut the fuck up—-hah, god…” Yeji rests her head onto the metal walls, feeling defeated as being stuck in an elevator are one of the last few things she wants to see and she’s not really having it. You know with the complete silence of hers, marks something that there’s something unorthodox happening in her—you could catch her taking a glimpse of your body and maybe even your crotch but she wouldn’t mind even interacting seductively towards you and you don’t mind it because time will tell about each other’s fate.

Well, maybe the stars are aligning and something’s swerving inside her—she’s being unorthodox as something disturbing the force—

“Props to you though, you have a nice body…” Yeji catches you off-guard, averting her eyes towards you as she presents a coy demeanor with her faint smirks from time to time. You don’t know what got into her but you wouldn’t complain, and it’s drawing herself closer to your plan and you’re absolutely loving where this may go but of course, you need to fake your demeanor and won’t switch up easily.

“And what got into you, Yeji?”

“Oh, come on. I know I acted like a bitch earlier and I apologize for that—” Yeji inches closer towards you, her strong, floral scent nudging against your nose as you can feel the heat emanating from her, captivating you even more but you fight against that urge of yours, for now. “—won’t you wanna have some fun for now?”

She’s clearly alluring you towards something you’re probably oblivious of—of course, your clever mind isn’t nowhere near that, and you know where this will end as your cognizant mind will take this as a golden opportunity for your deepest desires.

“Is this the way you really want to kill time, Yeji?” There’s no frivolous disposition that can be seen on your face as you’re faking your disbelief against her suggestive propositions. 

“Then what other way can you think of, hm?” You shrug, clueless about what could be the answer of your own question as she proves her point even further. “See? Nothing.I mean, we’re going to be stuck here for a while so…” Yeji inches closer towards you, feeling her hot, minty breath brushing against your nose as she smiles at you like a vixen, seducing with her sultry tone and her dainty fingers tracing circles at your chest. “Shall we have some fun?”

As much as you want to deny her, Yeji herself exudes such exuberance and hotness that you can’t resist—mostly her calm yet enthusiastic approach made for your decision and her beauty is beyond exceptional on your own books and you would love to get that fun with her, or rather, in her.

“You know—I know how you want to fuck me with those eyes. I can sense them, hm…” Her fingers run onto the hem of your sleeves up to your collar, subtly teasing you as her voice makes you melt and fall under her spell. “Maybe it’s time for a test, you know?”

You mock her, intimidating her as she just smiles with your constant rants, knowing that you’ll fall into the abyss of desires soon and you can sense it in her eyes, that’s why you want to play. “Do you think that’s going to work, Yeji? Oh please, make me~”

“You’ll see…” Yeji’s taunting gaze sends you into a state of captivation, where butterflies seemingly take over your stomach, making you fall for her attractive advances towards you and there’s no way in this world you’ll ever find herself unable to allure you. You know she’s growing impatient once she knelt down hurriedly and looked up at you, with a smirk as she’s about to be delighted with a treat that she’s been longing for. 

“You don’t mind this, don’t you?”

“Well, do your thing, Yeji—it’s like I can stop you from here.”

Yeji scoffs as her hubris intimidates you, knowing how you’ll easily bite into her trap and your words laced with sincerity. “Glad you knew that.”

Not going to play with such golden time, she treasures every second and gives you a sinister smirk before tugging your pants and unbuttoning it, deftly enough before you could even comprehend what she’s been really doing to you. Yeji’s hands swiftly caressed its way to your thighs, making your little member grow enraged, filling it with lust as she eyes on it like its prey, her voracious needs only clouded her mind to slobber all over it and savor every second of tasting it. “You know you made me this stressed? Then, I guess I’ll need to find a way to de-stress myself using you.”

Without uttering a single word anymore, she swiftly brings your boxers down to your ankles as she’s flummoxed with your erected-length, almost hitting her in the face. Her pupils gradually dilated, her eyelids fluttering as she’s attracted to the musky scent of your shaft and the incredible length on it and with her curiosity peaking, she brought her hands around the base of it and stroked it slowly. Her touch brings you down onto your knees (figuratively) as the coldness of it breaks the heated atmosphere that has been emanating because of such suggestive actions.

“You know, let me share one thing about me.” Yeji flickered her tongue against your sensitive head, tasting only a hint of you as she never broke her intimidating façade, making your ears piqued onto listening to only her. “I like choking on a good fucking cock like this, hmmm—mwah, this is so perfect to look at and god, you know how I’ve wanting this for a long time now…”

She does love choking on a good fucking cock like yours, moreso, sucking it as her lips peppered kisses all over the vicinity of your shaft, not leaving any area untouched with her soft, plump flesh. You can bet her lipstick stains will stay onto the base of your shaft for later, and you’re just anticipating that because she’s nearing her way there, now taking a desirable length of your dick inside her slutty mouth.

Even though she’s clouding your mind with the stupendous work of her vacuum of a godlike mouth, you can’t help but think on why her demeanor suddenly changed. You know it has to be the unbearable boredom or she saw something in you that she became starved—yes, your goddamn crotch was her weakness and it wasn’t even hard for that to be not obvious. Her constant eyeing and lip bites was just enough for a strong evidence of hungers towards you and you just can’t believe how everything escalated quickly right now—you just can’t believe the fact that the C.E.O’s daughter is basically giving you mind-boggling blowjob at an elevator and the best you can do is to savor every second on what her lips can muster.

“So hungry for my cock, hm?”

Yeji constantly slurps on your succulent shaft as it took her a second to respond, too concentrated on sucking you off and giving you the most intense pleasure of all time. “Yeah—no shit why I slurped so hard on this delicious dick of yours.” 

She continues her oral masterclass with more bobs as she takes you halfway in, slurping onto your length like it’s a delicious meal. She then grabs your hips for a better leverage on sucking you off and without anymore foreplay, it is time for the main event on why she even got into this mess in the first place. Constant bobbing ensues as the pace escalates ridiculously, you moaning in delight as you get to experience such fine pleasure from the beautiful orange-headed girl in front of you and you couldn’t really ask for more now. The hollowing suction of her cheeks tends to really make you feeble, pairing it alongside her talented mouth slobbering all over your shaft and making a filthy mess with her copious amounts of drool. You already knew how she loved the living fuck out of your cock when saliva inevitably seeps out of her mouth and lathering everything it meets around the vicinity and with that sight alone, is extremely arousing in levels you can’t even comprehend—add up the mascara running down her cheeks due to her tears running down because of her aggressive actions on your shaft, pushing herself over the limits.

You know Yeji won’t have enough nor even bother speaking at you when your addictive length is over her sight, ready for her slobber on and wanting her to pull out and give herself a breather, you mock her about how she’s not taking you whole and how she can do better than this. Everything that's happening right now is going well just according to your plan and you can’t wait for her to get baited to your trap as it’s just meters away from a surprise you wanted her to take.

“You know how I need to fucking taste every inch of you first, isn’t that ri—mmfh—mfh!!”

“Just shut the fuck up and choke on my cock, Yeji.” You know you can’t bear her talkative mouth to be all over the place, constantly ringing around ear when you can shut her up with a heartbeat, or rather, your entire length curried inside her slutty throat. You catch her off-guard with your actions but she doesn't complain but rather, further pushes herself more until her sharp nose is buried onto your pelvis, deepthroating you with hints of ease and struggles because of her constant gags.

Her iron will to penetrate herself deeper using her throat is phenomenal, and rather gave you the best oral service you’ve ever had as she bobbed her head furiously on your shaft, signaling her starvation onto it like it’s her favorite popsicle—this will be definitely her favorite popsicle to suck on, knowing how she’s enlightened on how succulent it is. She alternates between breakneck bobs up to five-second deepthroats which make you moan in need and your member throbbing violently because of its tightness.

She definitely loves choking on a good cock, she really does and this is just getting started.

“Fuck—your d-dick, it’s incredibly delicious—hmm, mwah, I l-love it…” Yeji continues to suck on your swollen slit, lapping the leaking precum coming out of it as her vixen eyes averted towards you, probably proposing to you something that you wouldn’t deny. “Give me your phone, quick.”

You can’t really comprehend what the hell is going through her right now—

“Come on, give me your phone! I don’t have all day…”

Well, you know what’s going to happen now and you would love to have a bad bitch like her to be just a call away on your contacts. Pulling your phone from the pockets inside your long sleeve suit, you quickly gave it to her as she grabbed it swiftly, going to your phone log and typing her number with a single hand and honestly, you’re impressed with her multitasking as it’s difficult to avert your attention onto two different things and giving them equal attention. You can clearly see the dexterity of her fingers as tapped the numbers correctly (probably) as she’s still ensuing a great pace with her other hand gripping your hips for the best leverage.

“Here you go…” Yeji then gives your phone back to you as you insert it in your pocket yet you’re in utter shock at what she just did and decided to really ask her about how worthy you are to save her number on your phone.

“But w-why? Didn’t you hate me for just breathing earlier?”

Yeji, again, didn’t respond attentively as she’s occupied in both ways: her mouth and her brain all averted onto her oral masterclass as after a few more bobs, she pulls her incredible suction of your constantly throbbing member, preparing herself to answer your profound question.

“This cock…” Yeji gives your length leisure strokes as you subtly moan in response, her hands really giving the paramount of pleasure as she continues her hand work all over your member. “Is my type, and you’re actually cute, honestly—I don’t know, should’ve not judged you that harshly earlier if you’re treating me this fucking beast.” She slaps her face with your rock-hard shaft as she continues her oral session with no time to waste. With an incredible pace already being ensued by her skillful mouth, you can’t help but just indulge to the gratification that she’s giving and to further make it worse, she doubled the time of her deepthroats between mind-boggling bobs, which completely makes you lose your own mind—most likely, in the verge of it but you’re doing your utter best to fight against it.

Knowing how close you can be with your member constantly throbbing onto her tight, pleasurable mouth, Yeji knows how she can make this mess a lot more filthier than what she has already done, further setting you up onto an arousing sight that will never forget.

“Why don’t you fuck my face to add up the mess, hm?” Yeji seduces you with her sultry voice as she lures you in to your deepest, lustful desires of filthiness and thinking about it, makes you even want to dive in to your temptations—you’re already given this golden opportunity, and it’s up to you to take it.

You should take it, you’re not going to lose anything about this but have everything to win it all—“Then I’ll fuck your goddamn face, Yeji—”

She gags on the spot as it comes with another one, constantly struggling with your entire length shoved down her throat as she encourages you even go rougher and with the given green light, you let the feral beast inside you go berserk.

You grab onto her orange locks, pulling it to form some makeshift-pigtails and further gave it all—you can find your hips ensuing a velocity that you thought you could never muster, as it goes rough on her mouth, pounding it like it’s going to be your last. This definitely wouldn’t be your last, and this will be your introduction to her own world as you continue thrusting into her mouth in full force, her constant sounds of her gags becoming apparent that it resonates around the elevator—you just hope no one would hear the profanities and sin the both of you are moaning about. You can see the filthy mess that has been all throughout her beautiful visage as the once fierce and modest vixen was now degraded into a perfect, sullied mess and it’s just the best thing to lay your eyes upon.

“You want to fucking choke on it? Then fucking choke it, Yeji. This slutty mouth is so tight I’ll pound this until your throat becomes sore, do you understand?” Yeji could only nod as your rampant thrusts makes her yelp because of your rough treatment—you know how much she loves this as the lustful glint in her eyes says a lot, now being converted to tears that adds up to the ruined mess that further ignites the heat of the sinful atmosphere. It wouldn’t be that long before your reservoir comes into a breaking point—you could feel yourself closing in and there’s no better way to end this on a complete filthy mess of a Hwang Yeji, on her knees, begging for your damn load to be deposited deep in her throat.

“Going to cum—you better take it all, Yeji—” She just constantly gags as the concoction of different, indistinguishable liquids are just all over the place sets up the most arousing part yet. You bury her nose into pelvis again, your balls pressed onto her chin as you unload everything you got, to the point of no-return and god, you’re just in heaven because of how enchanting this experience is.

Surprising enough, she takes it all as every spurt that shoots down on her walls makes her yelp in warmth but she fights to the urge of pulling out, not wanting to disappoint you in any means. She knows what she’s up to and a masterclass of her act, as she shows the abundance of your thick, warm semen at her tongue and suddenly, with two gulps, it all faded away from your sight within a blink of an eye, all stored for her to be savored by her stomach.

“God—that’s fucking delicious, not gonna lie to you, shit…” Yeji, still perplexed by what just happened, continues to compliment the taste of your seed as you smile because of it, your confidence now going over the roof. She smiles in return because of your harsh treatment on her mouth, loving every second she chokes and gags onto your whole length as she wants more of it but sadly, all great things won’t last for an eternity, meeting its painful demise as surprisingly, the elevator can now be felt working finally as you feel the both of you going up.

Now cleaning both of yourselves up, you prepare and make yourself presentable because of a freaky session the both of you went into by Yeji as she breaks the awkward silence. “Aren’t you going to join a party?”

“Nah, I was kidding earlier—I’m actually going to just meet someone way up the building but I guess we got stuck here so… yeah.”

Yeji nods as she further wipes her tears with some tissues, the elevator can be heard by a single ding, marking the arrival of her destination.

“I guess this marks the end of our meeting, hm?”

“I guess so…” You scoff as Yeji scouts herself out of the elevator but before she does so, she leaves words for you for further reassurance.

“I’m not done with you, meet me at the ground floor at 11 P.M. You better be there because I need to know you more, baby.”

And there, your heart beats unexplainably fast before the elevator doors close and you could just see her scrumptious frame swaying, walking like a model of your dreams and god, what a fucking experience you dived yourself into and it all feels like a damn dream…

---

“Didn’t really miss my call, hm—ohh…”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

You continue peppering her neck with kisses that further ignites the heat of the atmosphere around, making everything a runback on what happened earlier but this is way better and more intimate than ever before. Yes, this was just the girl who despised your existence earlier and is now equally naked as you are, sharing such intimate kisses and filthy talks meant to arouse the both of you, up to the roof.

“Was really hesitating at first but—” Your soft pecks releases the sultriest moans from her lips, voicing out how incredibly skilled you are with your lips and how you can make her feel good, yet you continue, “—I know how genuine your tone is, and probably, wishing for chance…”

Yeji looks at your eyes, endeared but full of lust as she speaks at you, “And that chance is fulfilled right now…”.

This is just phenomenal, no matter what you say. You still can’t fathom how this is real but you’re not complaining at any means but rather, cherish every second that passes with this beautiful woman. Now, with Yeji pulling herself out of your lips’ warm embrace, she can’t contain her primal urges anymore and with the scrumptious sight of her, the feelings are just mutual as she breaks another silence—“Fuck me now, baby. Show me what you got.”

Giving her a faint smile and then a smirk, you then let her lie down on the bed as she rests on but then, you got to know how she really wanted it as you want to treat her roughly but in her own accord. “I want it from behind, baby—where you can see everything you want to see~”

You never expected Yeji to lay such a perfect invitation for you, her lazy, sultry voice alongside her momentary alluring moves towards you just makes your heart be captivated and you can’t ask for more with that. With her constant wringing of her ass for you to further fall onto your deepest temptations, you brushed your full-erected cock onto the heat of her core, teasing her with a pace similar to being stagnant in which she whines because of your leisure actions.

“Don’t tease me, baby—I want it all rough inside me—please, ohh…”

As much as you want to do the opposite, the thought of being rough towards Yeji is turning you on so much that you could imagine all of the possible ways to really sully her into oblivion. That wouldn’t lay onto the cloud of thoughts as soon as you place both of your hands on her hips, caressing them to further absorb that lustful energy she’s emanating by her constant sways and within a second, it all went onto the state of utter bliss.

Like what Yeji said from the beginning, she wanted it rough with you then you’ll have it that way as your hips ensued such a ruthless pace, not giving her a breather as you caught her off-guard, constantly whimpering with your whole length ravaging her velvety walls without a break. Of course, you’re merciful, you won’t commit at such a ridiculous pace enough to break her but with her complete wetness, it didn’t become a struggle to pound her yet her inevitable tightness would like to have a talk, constant gripping on your shaft like it wouldn’t let go.

“You’re fucking t-tight, Yeji—god!”

“And you’re fucking big i-inside—ahh, m-me—but fuck me anyways!!”

Of course you will, as you completely disassemble her tough, bitchy demeanor into a state of submissiveness, further oscillating your hips onto a constant rampage of ruthless thrusts that makes both parties succumb onto their deepest desires—all committed onto the most sinful act possible in mankind. Her moans became orchestrated to the point it became a subsequent noise that’s music to your ears and it’s just making your arousal skyrocket up to the sky. With her buttcheeks constantly getting shaken like an earthquake because of such powerful magnitudes of your thrusts, you compose a proposition that will make everything elevated: slapping the porcelain skin of her butt would probably ignite the lust even more, and you did just that. Yeji loves how you’re going rough on her backside as the constant clashing of bodies denounce the deepest sinful act the both of you could possibly be into and she further encourages you for more but something’s breaking the lustful noise with her profound wants.

“Gosh—ahh, fuck! Choke m-me while you’re—gahh, f-fucking me, please! Fucking c-choke me—oh my god!!”

You saw that coming and thought she would actually forget about that because of your length constantly ramming her tight cunt which makes her brain go haywire and would only think of your constantly-rough treatment. You never knew a girl like Yeji would be into such a wild fetish and you can’t blame her for that—the fact that she treated your cock in her mouth earlier all sloppily and ruthless says the fact that both feelings are mutual, again.

With her wants all over the way, she didn’t even bother to talk as you fulfill her request, further pounding into her tightness while wrapping your hand almost around her neck with your palm onto her nape, further igniting the lustful asphyxiation that she’s been into. Her moans now are becoming broken because of the lack of oxygen as the thrill turns Yeji on, more than what you could expect and guess what, it’s maybe evident that it’s one of her real fetishes. You can find her tight cunt constricting around your rapid length as the utmost stimulation and lack of breath is overloading her senses, between the risky play of life and death coming to play as she moans erotically because of your actions. You don’t want a beautiful girl laying down unconscious as with her constant swears, you let go of your tight grip around her neck as she catches her breath as soon as you let her airflow be present again.

Formulating the right ways to make her arousal go up in the sky, you alternate your hands on spanking her buttcheeks and choking her neck, the play of her fetishes finally making the experience of sex more elevated, her subsequent moans letting you know how much she loves it. You could really feel the utter wetness that has been seeping out of her core right now, forming rivulets of her own juices and coating what it can around the vicinity—might as well change her bed sheets because Yeji wouldn’t help sleeping on a wet bed mostly because of her. Because of your ridiculous pace and your rough treatment towards her, Yeji can’t help raise the volume of her angelic moans and soon enough, her highly-anticipated high.

“Oh my g-god—choke m-me, baby—I wanna f-fucking cum while—you, ahh—choke m-me!!”

Then you’ll fulfill her needs because she’s the star of this show, and you’ll do whatever she requests you to do. You maintain your firm grip around her neck as your other hand grabs her hips, opting for a great leverage onto chasing her own high, ravaging her tight pussy like it’s her last. With your harsh onslaughts of ramming thrusts, it wouldn’t take long before she reaches her desired peak, coming closer to the promised land and then letting out series of sultry profanities—

“Fuck—I’m g-gonna c-cum, baby!!”

With the constant pulsation of her cunt, you know her high is approaching a near velocity as you gave her the final thrusts she deserves. Yeji, not minding her orgasm from breaking her apart, wants you to continue ravaging her pussy even though she’s in the ascending state of bliss, so euphoric that she can’t be arsed to think about anything but her orgasmic trance. You do as she says so and god, she’s climaxing hard, multiple streams of her own nectar flowing out around your constantly-ramming length as she screams in delight, further closing herself towards peak gratification.

“I know y-you’re going to cum s-soon—please—ahh, c-cum inside me—oh god, fuck!!”

She knows how close you are as she helps you to reach your own anticipated high, further fucking her scrumptious frame onto your raging length until it’s all too much to handle and you could only succumb onto the inevitable fate of your own orgasm. Releasing the grip around her neck, you gently grabbed her perky mounds and fondled it, making her whimper in need as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt with multiple spurts of your creamy mess, painting every inch of her hugging walls white. You groan because of the intense pleasure coursing down your veins, every thrust opting to extend your orgasm as she’s too insatiable for you to stop yet your mind does so, inevitably slowing down your hips as your orgasmic trance is now meeting its demise, and you, utterly enervated and feeling euphoric. You slowly pull out of her as your member is getting flaccid, admiring the mess you’ve made between her snug hole as you feel like you’re in heaven right now and, god, this is splendid.

“You came a lot, baby~” Yeji is in subtle awe as she looks at the cum-filled mess you’ve deposited inside her but then, worry settles in and Yeji being clever, reassures you that everything’s going to be alright.

“You’re fine, baby—I’m safe today…” Yeji then grabs your muscular arms, pulling you into a torrid kiss as she savors the taste of you, making sure that both parties will be elevated into utmost affection and endearment. You then pull out right after as you admire her beautiful visage, every feature making you in awe as she’s the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t ask for more.

“God—I just can’t get enough of you, Yeji…”

“And I can’t, either.” You continue peppering her with kisses as you worship her neck with multiple pecks, making her subtly moan as she voices out her satisfaction with almost-inaudible moans. “You can sleep with me here, for the night—I need to know you more…”

You scoff as you're in utter shock, not knowing that it will end up like this—you may have or have not expected this outcome, to be honest—but nonetheless, you’ll take it. Yeji then gets up from her previous lying position, legs still a little wobbly as you wanted to help but she didn’t insist on it, letting you know that she can do it on her own yet you can hear her voice, calling you out and presenting another proposition.

“Another round in the showers? There’s plenty of room here, baby~”

And maybe you’ll end this stupendous day with another load buried deep inside her cunt—

[acotarxreader]

Jilted

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: The morning of your wedding your fears are enforced by an old way of thought, sending you running and Azriel to cope with the aftermath but will a reunion set you both back on the path you should both be living?

Warnings: Angsty

A/N: Right, you may find yourself hating Reader for a bit but I tried my best convey the panic and pressure.

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

“I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this”

“Shh YNN you'll be fine! This is what you want!” Mor caught you in her arms, your train half tangling your feet. You cried into her chest, not caring if your make-up was streaming down your face, your sister and maid of honour rocking you gently.

“YN, come on sweetie, it's just pre-wedding jitters, happens to most, Azriel will be waiting to see his beautiful bride!”

“Mor it's too soon! I was going to be a writer! Go off and live on the continent, I have never even been! There's still so much I want to go and do!”

“And you will! You will YN! You and Az will do that together and more! Marriage isn't going to change that!”

“You're right, you're right” You pulled from her, rubbed under your eyes and sat back down at the vanity. You looked into the mirror at the person you hardly recognised and silently went about reapplying your makeup.

“You look beautiful YN” You could only nod at her, afraid if you opened your mouth again it would set off a series of unfortunate events.

“I’m going to go check on Azriel” She gave you a smile before ducking out of the pastel room, leaving you alone. You steadied your breathing, batting your tears away with your lashes before they could fall further.  You loved Azriel, he was your life force, saved you from yourself and you returned the same to him. He was your everything. These thoughts brought ease to you. You ran a soft hairbrush through your flowing locks, a smile beginning to reappear on your face.

“Oh you look lovely my child” The sound of a weathered female's voice came up behind you, causing you to jump slightly. She was of pure Illyrian blood, a representative of a dying way of thought, a relic in her own right, Azriels only remaining relative he was in contact with.

“Thank you, Elena” You found your head bowing slightly to her, unsure of why, you out-ranked her and yet you felt the pressure of the millennia of the institution she represented weigh on you. 

“You're going to make a wonderful wife YN” She almost snaked up behind you as quietly as she entered the room as you watched her in the reflection. You tried not to stare at the clipped tattered wings that hung from the female, she tucked them in as if noticing your glance. 

“I just know you'll keep him a nice life”

“What do you mean?” You turned to face the skeletal woman, her bone-chilling words wrapping around your lungs.

“Well, I mean being the wife of a powerful Illyrian of course! And just think YN when the children come along you'll be so busy raising the next generation of warriors! Not much time for other things but what could be more important than the bloodline? Azriel is a hard worker, I know he'll provide in tenfolds” She smiled as if she wasn't throwing a live grenade, it began to smoke as the pin was pulled from it inside your head. You could feel your chest compressing further with the strangling tradition.

“Well, Az and I will be both working and you know we won't be having offspring until after we travel and even then we'll both be looking after them” You tried to calm yourself down but her shrill laughter put a quick stop to relief you had from your own words.

“Oh, my child don't we all think that! You're marrying an Illyrian, bastard born or not-” the words cut you, anger replacing anxiety for a moment until she continued “-He can’t suppress the urges of his blood. His life partner will be malleable, mute and well-behaved, does what is expected of her. Azriel has other things to be doing for his Court than raising children, female work” 

“I-” You couldn’t find the words through the magma-thick matter-of-fact speech she choked you with. 

“-Well, I must go make myself useful elsewhere child” Her crochet-hook-like fingers dug into your shoulders with a squeeze before she turned and left you in the solitude of your room once more. 

You could feel the air rush from your lungs as you fought to stop the oxygen from evaporating from your blood. You stood, pacing, blood rushing to your face as you stumbled on the train of your dress, hitting the carpet with unforgiving force. You lay for a moment on the carpet, hands splayed out in front of you, your engagement catching the light like you loved. It suddenly feeling much too tight. 

“Gods! Fuck! I can’t do this!” You stood on rattling knees, grabbing things frantically from the dresser before you could fully become cognisant of the actions.

You moved quickly and carefully through the door and into the empty hallway, avoiding the directions where laughs leaked out, them falling like battle cries in your ears. 

You reached the stone steps of the venue with quiet desperation, your adrenaline and anxiety now fully controlling your body as you bolted down the path, half stumbling. You whipped around to look back up to the hill where the hall of your friends and family waited for the blushing bride, tears claiming your face as their own as you dashed into the streets of Velaris before anyone inside became the wiser.

—----------

Funerals are a strange thing. They do strange things to people. You thought this as you stood at the back of a hall you had not been inside in almost 70 years, thought about how the female they were saying goodbye to today shook your entire life up like it was nothing. You looked around and imagined it the week after you left, the day you left, the hour after you left. You thought of the moments you missed with your chosen family since you fled the Night Court and all its wonderful attributes, you pushed the guilt you had been fighting ever since then back down

From the back row, your eyes landed on the backs of the three Archeron sisters, their stories meeting you on your travels around the globe. You smothered the smile that toyed at your mouth, the thoughts of your friends happy and in love warming you. Your gaze landed on the the back of Azriels head as it hung in respect. Too much, this was too much, you couldn’t deal with him seeing you. As you had 70 years previously, you slipped from the hall without anyone noticing. 

You were met with the warm Spring sun, a beautiful day in Velaris, as they all were. You wandered down the unforgiving steps, your name from a familiar voice stopping you.

“Yn?” 

“Mor!”

“Yn!” She ran down the steps, taking you in her arms, the feeling of home rushing to you. You were so happy to hold your sister having worked through the issues that arose from your wedding day. At first, she rightfully iced you entirely but after two decades of silence, she reached out, asking to reconnect, missing her sister in the fray and yet you always found an excuse to not come home. 

“Yn I'm so happy you're back! You came back for the funeral?”

“Yeah I did, felt I needed to”

“Yeah I mean I suppose they were almost your family too” she smiled before realising her words and apologising, a weak smile grew on your face in acceptance of the throwaway comment. The two of you continued down a winding road away from the groups leaking out of the hall.

“So how long are you here?”

“Just the weekend, I have meetings on Monday, I’m staying at our old apartment, remember?”

“Oh yes! Just a flying visit so, the busy life of a successful big-time author I suppose”

“Oh yeah, I'm plagued with the title” you laughed, finally meeting the Sidra as it coursed, its glimmering water making you smile.

“Yeah, your success really boomed after leaving here” She almost sounded sad before beaming at you again and catching your hands in hers.

“I guess, I missed you though, I missed the Night Court”

“And Azriel?” The name struck pure pain into your heart, as if seeing the back of his head in the hall wasn't bad enough, hearing his name was almost catastrophic, you only nodded.

“Well, he misses you too YN” She squeezed your hands.

“He doesn't, he couldn't, not after what I did to him Mor” She looked at you with sympathy, looking back up the street you just walked down. 

“I have to get back, they’ll be looking for me” You gave her an understanding smile 

“Meet me for a drink later in Rita’s, we have so much to catch up on” as she kissed your cheek goodbye with her words before returning back up the street to the hall again.

You looked out over the Sidra, an empty plot of land ripping through your heart. It was there where you and Azriel were going to build, it still stayed empty. A mausoleum to your relationship. You peeled your eyes from it, looking elsewhere around the city you adored, deciding to spend the remainder of your evening re-acquainting yourself with it. 

-

Night fell in the city of stars as you found your way towards the Town House by muscle memory alone. You felt so alive being back, more alive than any amount of travel or success ever brought you. You leaned against the fence, waiting happily for your sister.

“Y-Yn?” his face dropped, his voice alone causing you to bite the inside of your mouth to almost bleed. The red flush from your walking was gone from your face growing pale at the sight of him standing on the other side of the street. He crossed slowly as if any sudden movement would send you running.

“H-Hi Az-Azriel, you look - you look well” 

“Thank- what are you doing here YN?” tones of confused sadness left Azriel, the anger towards you he felt so many years ago unable to be conjured back at will. He thought about this moment so often and yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d said in those imaginary encounters.

“I-I’m meeting Mor, I-”

“Azriel, hey there you are!” The small beaming brunette Fae seemingly came from nowhere to his side, her hand tucking into his so effortlessly. You pushed every yearning thought from your head and plastered a smile onto your face that didn’t fully meet your eyes. 

“Maya, go tell Mor her sister is here, I’ll meet you inside” She raked her eyes up your and down your full body with such subtle brutality before kissing Azriel’s cheek goodbye, sauntering up the path to the house. 

“She seems nic-”

“She is” He almost bit, his eyes felt like daggers on your skin.

“I-”

“-What are you doing here YN?” his tone matched his eyes.

“I just came for the funeral”

“And now what?”

“I’m meeting Mor and then heading to our old place to stay” “And then?” “Then, I’m heading back to the continent” You weren't sure why you were answering, you suppose you owed him that much, the heat of his eyes making you feel vulnerable.

“I heard your writing is doing pretty well there, pretty well everywhere”

“Yeah”

“Hope it was worth it YN” Words like fire burning you all over, and yet you felt you deserved worse. He sighed when you didn't respond before pushing past you, following the path Maya had just trotted up.

“It wasn't," you said the words before you knew what you were saying, back towards him before looking over your shoulder, now fully meeting his eyes. He looked as though he was going to say something but Mor came flying out her front door.

“Sorry I'm late YN I was- oh, sorry am I interrupting something?”

“No Mor, I was just leaving” and then he did. Gone again.  

“How did that go?” Mor looped her arm through yours, prying you from leaning on the wall to head down the street again.

“Fine” you tried a smile and failed.

“You met Maya”

“Always one for sensitivity Mor” You smiled at your sister and she was instant apologies.

“I’m sorry, I forgot they were coming over tonight… Maya isn't anything like you if that helps. He went a bit off the walls when you left. Cassian thinks he's going to propose to that tonight, hope he's all wrong. He's totally settling especially since Rhys and Cass have their mates now. She's nothing like you and I think he knows that, just ignoring it. It's kinda sad and- oh hey YN I didn't mean to make you cry” she said the words like throwaway gossip, forgetting her audience only to have your rising tears land her back to earth. 

“No no it's okay Mor, I'm just going to go home”

“Aw come on, I'm sorry!” you stopped on the path, her soft eyes giving you no comfort. 

“Not as sorry as I am Mor” You took off then, in the direction of your old shared house.

-

You lay in your bed, rain threatening to come through the slate roof. Tossing and turning you finally decided to get up and wander your old house you had with Mor before meeting Azriel. Looking in drawers filled with old pictures, ones of you when you were a kid, playing with the Mor. More recent ones of you with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel,  Azriels arm draped around you. You ran your fingers over the tarnished picture, a tear dripping onto the film before you tucked it back into the worn drawer. 

You meandered through the living room, stopping at the old mahogany press. You knew what was in there and you didn't want to see it. Looking at that engagement ring again would be the end of you.

A loud banging came drumming against the door causing you to jump from the crushing thought. You wrapped the dressing gown tighter around yourself before opening the door to see the tormented, rain-soaked Illyrian before you. He waited for no invitation before blowing in past you, the cold leaking from him.

“I COULDN'T DO IT!”

“Do what Azriel?! What's wrong?!”

“I couldn't ask Maya to marry me! There's fucking caution tape around my heart because of you! I would have been fine if you had just left me alone to wallow in anger all those years ago I would have been fine! But No! I just had to fuck around and get attached to you!” He threw his arms in the air, words hot with anger. 

“You're blaming me for loving you?!” You found his words caused you your own irritation.

“Yeah! Yeah I am! You just had to pay attention to me! You just had to care about me! You just had to-”

“Had to what?! Had to love you!” you couldn’t believe you snapped out the words as they floated to his ears. 

“YEAH! AND YOU JUST HAD TO LEAVE ME!” Knives to your mind would have been less painful, he almost rattled in anger, a mere metre away from you, his shadows vibrating at his feet in anger. 

“I had to leave Azriel I wasn't ready!”

“YOU COULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT TO MY FACE!? BECAUSE YOU COULD HAVE! ANYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN STANDING UP ON THAT FUCKING ALTER WAITING FOR YOU!” his arms raised in the air with his words, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“Azriel-”

“When we were together what was the thing you always said to me?! It was that you wouldn't leave me, that you wouldn't abandon me like everyone else. YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T AND YOU FUCKING DID!”

“I know Az I know” you were crying now, throwing yourself back on the couch, floods of memories of those very conversations threatening to drown you.

“You know?! Then why did you do it! The truth!”

“Elena came to me before the wedding and said all this stuff about what a wife should do and be and how I wasn't going to have time to write anymore and all the kids would be left to me and I wasn't ready! I WASN'T READY FOR THAT KIND OF PRESSURE THE ILLYRIANS WERE PUSHING ON ME!”

“YEAH! THE ILLYRIANS NOT ME! I NEVER EVER SAID ANYTHING LIKE THAT! NEVER EVEN THOUGHT IT!” you buried your head in your hands at his shouting, the action sending a ping of regret through Azriel but the repressed rage he felt towards you had to get out.

“You hurt me YN YLN. The wedding bells were just alarms to you”

“I don't know what to say but I want you to know that I understand that you hate me, I'll leave tomorrow, Ill go!” you swept the tears from your face, feeling you didn’t deserve to have them, the maker behind this mess.

“I missed you” his words completely caught you off guard as you brought yourself to look at him once again, his wild wrathful eyes replaced by utterly heartbroken ones.

“I miss you and I shouldn't. I can't move on from you! I haven't slept properly since you left! Every damn night it's a new nightmare and then I wake up and you're not there like you used to be and it's a different kind of nightmare! I miss you being there next to me at the dinner table, at Rita’s, at stupid fucking court functions, just doing absolutely fuck all with you! The number of times I thought about contacting you, visiting you, the amount of letters I wrote and never sent-” It was the first time he hadn't had a raised voice since he came into the house but being faced with the fallout of your actions in his ice tone made you miss the screaming to some degree.

“I'M SORRY! I AM WHAT ELSE CAN I SAY!” you found yourself shouting back, anything to deafen your inner voice.

“Do you miss me?” his icy tone melted slightly at your unfamiliar raised voice.

“Yes” you stood again from the sofa. 

“I'm with Maya”

“I know”

“But she's not you”

“No”

“I hate you YN" The words hurt every inch of your body, every cell felt searing unwavering pain, the sentence you never thought you’d hear him say. The familiar feeling of your lungs being strangled beat in your chest, unable to recover from the mortal wound.  You did what you did best and ran, out the door and into the rain-soaked Velarian streets.

“YN stop!” he followed you quickly as you made it halfway down the street, he would not have you slip from him again.

“No! I hurt you! I broke you and myself in the process all for selfish reasons and I still love you Azriel!” you went to run again but his firm hand on your forearm stopped you, spinning you to face him as his wild face dripped in rain.

“I hate that I love you YN”

“What?” you said softly over the thundering rain. Azriel looked from your face to over your shoulder. You turned to follow his eyes down the street, the plot of land haunting the other side of the Sidra.

“You ever wonder what we could have been? We were supposed to live there after we got married, we'd probably have kids and all now” his tone had softened at the sight of the overgrown plot.

“Yeah, we probably would” You stood next to him looking at the patch of home, you gave a weak smile.

“But you might not have your successful career”

“I'd have you, that would be worth more”

“You don't mean that YN”

“I do” he turned to completely face you then.

“Never thought I'd hear you say those words” You bit your lip and you could have sworn Azriel fought a slight smile at your discomfort.

“You should go propose to Maya -” Your mouth was betraying your heart “- And I should leave and live the life I chose because I can't be around the life I should be living”

“Do you think you'd want to live it if I gave you the choice now?” his eyes searched yours, fully softening for the first time since he landed on the doorstep. 

“I do”

“Yn I hate you and I love you but mostly I just hate that I love you” He felt no longer in control of his urges, leaning into you as he took hold of your soaked hips and leaned down to kiss swirls of what should have been and what could have taking you both over.

15 years later.

You lay down in the sun of the wildflower garden, your eyes took rest in the warm glow of the sun, taking a moment of rest after months of traveling with your new novel. 

“ARGH!” You shrieked at the rush of cold water soaking you down to your skin. 

“Azriel!” you bolted from where you lay, chasing your husband who clutched the hose down the length of the garden, only to be stopped dead by his sudden decrease in velocity. 

“Big mistake YNN” You looked at him puzzled only to hear the roaring laughter of your two children launch out of the hedges and armed with water balloons that they doused you with, gaining more screams of pure unadulterated joy. You collapsed to the grass as they overwhelmed you with their hysterics, climbing all over you, Azriel watching on so lovingly, so whole.

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

I promise the next fic will be more silly goofy! Let me know what you think!

[skzstannie]

“What about Ben?”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,800 cw: reader has a panic attack and depression, Ben is ur lil bro

summary: your mom isn’t happy about your absence at your brother’s birthday party, but she takes her anger a step too far this time

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone has a blessed 2024! Part 2s for both the Felix and the Han fic are underway, so send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list for either of them!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Mom, you know I can't just up and leave! What are you expecting me to do?"

You find yourself having the same conversation with your parents time and time again- they want you to come home, you can't come home, then they give you the silent treatment for a period of time until they want you to come home for something else.

It's mentally exhausting, having to deal with their constant negative remarks towards you job. You only do it for your little brother; him growing up without you is not in the cards for you. In fact, that's what this argument you're having with your mom is about this time.

"I expect you to put your family first for once in your life!" your mother yells back. You flinch, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"Mom, you know I wouldn't miss Ben's birthday unless I absolutely have to. I want to be there for him, I really do!" your words do little to convince her as she already has her mind made up about the type of person you are.

"This has happened one too many times. Missing the occasional family gathering is one thing, but it’s your brother's birthday." Her disgust easily wafts through the speaker of your phone, and you bite your lip to keep from absolutely lashing out at her.

Your parents were never understanding of your job. They always expected you to just pack up your bags and fly home for the smallest of things.

Your baby cousin said her first words? "Why aren't you here?"

Your little brother lost another tooth? "Why would you want to miss this important milestone?"

Your grandma got a new dog? "What kind of heartless person denies their grandparents?"

Over and over, you've been criticized for your job. You give them the same explanation each time, as it's the truth.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I want to be there; I really really do. It's just that-"

"Always with the excuses. Ya know what? I'm tired of the excuses," she pauses and your breath hitches in your throat.

"Ma?" your voice is choked up, and you find your lip wobbling from where it's pulled between your mouth.

Your mother sighs, her disappointment evident. "We're done with the excuses, Y/N. If you can't be here for us, I don't think this is going to work out."

You swear your heart stops upon hearing her words. "What do you mean?" the laugh you let out is far from humorous. It's desperate. "How could it not work out? I'm your daughter, there's nothing to work out. You're supposed to love me and care for me, unconditionally."

"You've crossed the line too many times. Don't try to spin this around and make me the bad guy. This is completely your fault, you and those stupid boys."

Your parents could talk trash about you all they want, but you never let them get away with saying stuff about your boys. "You can belittle me, argue with me, call me every name in your book, but I will not let you talk about the guys like that. They're my family, too," your almost able to catch yourself, but you realize your mistake far too late.

"Oh, yea? Well, if those guys are your family, why not spend the rest of your time with them, too. It’s not like you weren’t already planning to anyway. Spend your holidays with them, your birthdays with them. He’ll, what do you even need us for?”

Tears well in your eyes, a mix of anger and fear swelling deep in your gut. "Mom, you know that's not what I meant." You’re completely choked up, your words coming out just above a whisper in volume.

You've had fights, but they never go as far as this. Usually, your mom would've hung up by now, leaving you with nothing but radio silence for months on end.

As toxic as this is, she's your mom. You couldn't live this life without her. She's toxic now, using your vulnerability against you every chance she gets, but she wasn't always that way.

She was once a loving mother, one who packed your lunch every morning for school, sending you off with a kiss on your cheek. A mom who'd pay extra to get more of your school pictures so she could put them on her desk at work and in her car. She used to show her love for you as any mother does, but you havent felt that in so long.

The last time you were home was a little over two months ago, and not once did she hug you, kiss you, or even touch you. She was cold and emotionless towards you.

You should've seen it coming. All this tension building up for months on end, it was going to have to bottom out eventually.

As much as the above is true, the words that flew out her mouth next shocked you beyond belief, causing the tears to flow freely from your waterline.

"Don't come back home, Y/N. I'm serious. You've done too much damage to my family." There’s a beeping on the other end of the phone, and it drops from your shaking hand to the carpeted floor beneath you.

Don't come back?

You were always sorry, apology after apology leaving your lips when you had to miss something your family organized. You thought it'd be okay. Your mom would get over herself eventually, and you'd come home when the company allowed you to.

You pick up the phone, hands a trembling mess, and call back, praying for another chance to explain yourself. You’re met with an automated message, the robotic voice piercing your ear.

"I'm sorry, this customer is unavailable."

You hang up and call again. She wouldn't have blocked you. It was just a silly fight, right?

"I'm sorry, this customer is-" you hang up before the message finishes, throwing your phone onto the floor next to you.

Your sobs become audible, and your body crumbles onto the floor, your knees thankful for the soft surface the carpet provides. Your fingers claw at the skin around your eyes, looking for a relief from the emotional pain coursing through your body.

Red lines mark your face, leaving the areas tender and puffy.

Your heart constricts in betrayal.

How could she?

She raised you, gave birth to you. How was it so easy for her?

The thought of your little brother enters your jumbled thoughts, and your heart breaks further.

He’s only six years old, and he is the best little brother you could ever ask for. He loves with all his heart, and you are lucky enough to get to experience it, to be apart of that little circle he could wrap his arms around and squeeze with all his might.

The thought of never squishing his chubby cheeks again destroys you, and you're unable to express the amount of heartache you're feeling.

So you scream.

You scream loud, your emotions ripping through your throat like shards of glass through skin.

You’re too distraught to notice the door to your bedroom whipping open. Chan and Minho stand there in the doorway, their eyes wide and mouths agape.

They've never seen you like this before. They've never seen anybody like this before, actually. Your screams are manic as they bounce off the walls around you, echoing around the room.

Once their shock dies off, they rush over to you. Minho is gentle in his grip but firm as he pries your hands away from your face. He gasps when he sees the damage your nails have already done, your once soft features now blotchy with angry red streaks.

You continue to scream, your nails now digging into Minho's arm. Chan grabs you from behind, doing his best to soothe you out of your hysteria.

"Y/N, you have to calm down. Please, it's ok, shhh," he says, his hold around you tight in an attempt to give you some sense of security.

"What happened? Can you talk to us?" you ignore Minho.

They accept that you're too worked up too answer them, and they let you finish your episode, the two of them doing everything they can to try and soothe you.

The rest of the guys in the dorm stand in the doorway now, your cries too agonizing for them to ignore. Varying degrees of shock are spread across their faces as they watch.

Chan starts to mumble sweet words to you as you come out of your panic attack, your brain finally able to register your surroundings again.

“It hurts,” you whimper, chest aching. “It’s so hard to breathe.”

"It's ok, we're here," he repeats, his head pressed up against the side of yours.

"Tell us five things you can see right now," Minho says from beside you, his grip still tight around your sweaty hands.

Your voice is scratchy, your throat red and scarred from your screams, but you oblige, knowing this will help you ground yourself. "I see my alarm clock," your eyes scan your room, landing on the bright digital clock you have sitting on your bedside table.

"Good," he hums, "What else?"

Your eyes travel to the door and you see the scared faces of the rest of your members. You lock in on Felix, his hands clenched tightly in front of him as salty tears stream down his face.

"I see Felix," you whisper, the pain from your throat becoming more and more noticeable.

He nods his head. "Good, now three more things. What else do you see?"

You look to your opened closet, your eyes catching the way your clothes spill out of your messy dresser onto your floor. "I see my favorite hoodie. I see my curtains, and I see that stain on my wall."

"Perfect, Y/N. Take a few deep breaths now." You breathe with Minho, your erratic breaths eventually matching his steady ones.

Finally calmed down enough, you slump back into Chan's hold, completely exhausted from the panic attack.

The room is silent for a moment, all the guys letting you have a second to gather your bearings.

"What happened?" Changbin steps through the rest of the members, settling next to the three of you on the floor. The rest follow suit, some sitting on your bed and some sitting beside Changbin.

"It's my mom again. I don't even know, I think she like, kicked me out? Like, kicked me out of the family?" You're almost embarrassed to explain the situation. You don't know why, maybe in fear your members will think your mom's right. That maybe you have been missing too many family functions, and that you should’ve made more time for them.

"Y/N, that's awful," hums of agreeance come throughout the room, and Hyunjin's words help to reassure you. "You don't deserve that, not one bit."

"She's completely out of line. Nothing you did warranted this at all," Seungmin chimes in. He knows thoughts of uncertainty are swirling through your head, the gaslighting from your mother turning your thoughts to mush.

"What about Ben?"

"What about him? You know your mom's full of shit, and the minute you show up at her doorstep she'll welcome you in. She's bluffing," Changbin pipes up again, his shoulders tight with anger.

"I don't think she is this time."

~ ~ ~

It's another day, and you've spent it the exact same way you spent the last five- curled up in your bed with the lights off, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

Chan's come in to check on you periodically, but you’ve been alone for the most part.

The knock at your door alerts you from your sleepy state, and you call them in.

“Hey, I brought you some soup. Minho made it earlier today, and I figured you might be hungry,” Chan says, giving you a timid smile.

“Thanks, Chan, but I’m not really hungry right now. Can you just set it there?” You point to the little table you have at the end of your bed, “I’ll eat it later, I promise.”

Your phone starts to ring, and you gasp when you see who’s calling.

Dad

You pick up immediately, and you’re met with the distant yells of your parents. Confused, you ask, “Hello, Dad?”

“Sissy,” comes through. It’s Ben. His voice is small, and fear seeps through the speaker.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” You keep your tears at bay, knowing you need to be strong for him. Chan sits down beside you when he hears the little voice you’re talking to, and he rubs your back in comfort.

“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” he sniffles, the microphone personifying every bit of his sadness. “I miss you, Sissy.”

“I miss you, more, buddy, but I don't think we're gonna be able to see each other for a while," you choke back sobs.

“But I miss you so much,” he’s crying harder now, and it’s hard to hold yourself together knowing he’s struggling like he is.

“I know, buddy, I know. I’m so sorry I missed your birthday, I couldn’t get a day off work,” you explain. Chan brings his finger up to your cheek, catching your tear before it’s able to fall from your cheek.

You hear Ben gasp, and your heart beat picks up. “Ben, is everything ok? What happened?”

“Mommy’s coming, and I have to go. She told me I couldn’t talk to you, but I stole Dad’s phone. Love you, sissy,” and he’s gone before you can even say it back.

Chan eventually leaves your side upon your request to be alone for a while. The soup beside your bed grows cold as your sadness overwhelms you once again.

~ ~ ~ "Alright, rise and shine!" you're awoken from your slumber by the bright light shining in from your window. You groan, throwing your pillow over your head to block the light. Your curtains hadn’t been opened in weeks, and you were planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

"Nope," the intruder says, ripping the pillow from off your face.

"We've allowed you to wallow in this room long enough. If we're not performing or doing an interview, you're laying in the dark in bed." Your eyes open, crusty and sore from the crying you did before falling asleep the night before.

Hyunjin's face paints your irises, his features full of determination.

"Time to get up." He throws your pillow back on the bed beside you, turning to walk out your door. "Oh, and pack a bag, we're flying somewhere today."

You shoot up in bed at that. "Nothing's on the schedule for today, so where are we going?”

‘Is it something I can get out of?’ is what you really want to say, but you keep it to yourself.

"It’s a surprise. Get up and get dressed, we leave in an hour," he finishes, closing the door behind him.

You slide out of bed, your limbs dragging your covers onto the floor. You don't bother picking them up, too tired to care about the messy appearance of your room.

You quickly get ready, throwing on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You pull your hair up into a ponytail, attempting to hide the grease that's accumulated over the past few days.

The ride to the airport is quiet and relatively peaceful. Everyone's happy to see you up and moving again, but the facade you've been putting on for the public has been washed away in your tired state, leaving your features drowsy. The dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your cheekbones sticking out more than usual. Your hair’s thinned a little, and your lips are cracked from your lack of hydration.

Through security and the rest of the way through the airport, you grip Jisung's arm, both of you needing the other's support in the overcrowded building.

Chan had explained to you that the managers wanted to start filming for the next SKZ Code a day early, fearing it might take longer than expected.

When you see the television next to your boarding terminal, your eyes practically bug out of your head.

Why would you be filming the next SKZ Code in your hometown?

That's the last place you want to go, your fight with your mom still fresh in your mind. You've been feeling the affects of it, her harsh words and actions sending you deep into a depressive episode.

Your members have noticed, trying their best to pull you from it, but nothing they did seem to work.

They can't begin to sympathize with you, none of them ever experiencing the kind of hurt you feel deep in your heart, wreaking havoc on your sanity. All they can do is offer you words of encouragement and love, assuring you that you still have a family, a very real one. While the nine of you may not be related by blood, the bond between all of you is strong.

They decided to take their efforts one step further, however, after seeing you begin to spiral. Your naps became longer and more frequent, often taking up most of the time you were supposed to be awake. You had been neglecting your self care routine, not even having enough energy to shower and brush your teeth most days.

Chan decided that enough is enough, so he convinced the managers to book you all a flight to your hometown to try and reconcile your family. As much as they wanted your mom out of your life, you were much more sane with her in it, and you needed your dad and your brother.

~ ~ ~

The flight was a success, everything going perfectly smooth.

You're now squished into the backseat of a car on the way to the house you'll all be staying at for the remainder of the filming.

The first thing you notice when pulling up into the driveway is how beautiful the house is. The front yard has the most angelic archways leading up to the house, with flowers lining the sidewalk and little statues spread about.

The house itself is amazing. Tall glass windows cover most of the front, the sunlight easily shining through, lighting up the front room.

The five of you- Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, I.N, and yourself- make your way into the house, and all of your previous worries disappear at the sight of the incredible interior. The walls are lined with expensive looking art, chandeliers hang from the tall ceilings, and the floors are marbled with white and gray.

Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, and Seungmin went to the store in the other van. They said they needed to pick up some last minute essentials for your stay.

Little did you know, they were actually going to your parents house. Their hopes were to get your mother to forgive you, or at least be civil so you could have a conversation with her.

Unfortunately, their visit did not go as planned, and it ended with your mother threatening to call the cops on them if they didn't leave the property immediately. This, of course, did not deter Lee Know from giving her a piece of his mind. His outburst was in Korean, and the insults he threw at her were so quick she'd never be able to recall them to look them up in a translator.

As much as they wanted to stay, to defend you and help you get your family back, they knew they couldn't. Getting law enforcement involved was the last thing they needed, knowing their managers would immediately regret sending them on this short getaway.

So, with that, they went back to the house with anger embedded in their hearts. They didn't want to have to tell you the real reason you all came here. They didn't know how you would react. Would you be thankful they tried to help? Would you feel betrayed that they'd went to your home without permission? They didn't know, but it was time to face the music; there was no SKZ Code to film, and they had no shopping bags in hand, so the truth was going to have to come out.

"Y/N," Chan sighs as he plops down next to you on the couch. You're both seated in the sunroom, looking out at the lake that sits in the backyard.

He gets your attention, and you slide your phone in your hoodie pocket, turning your body to face him. "What's up?"

He hates that he has to be the one to bring up your family again. You look so peaceful, your face no longer contorted with sorrow and pain like it'd been for weeks now, but he knows he has to tell you. It’s only fair to you. "So, please don't get mad, but this whole thing may or may not have been just a setup for you to see your family again."

Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of seeing your family again. "Really, when can we go?" Your excitement radiates off of you, and you quickly stand to your feet.

Chan grabs ahold of your sleeve and gently guides you back down next to him, his eyes filled with pity. "Well, when we said we were going shopping earlier, we actually went to your house," he pauses, his eyes scanning your features; your face is blank, the excitement from seconds ago long gone. "Your mom wasn't exactly appreciative of our presence, and she kicked us out. Said she'd call the cops if we didn't leave. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Your mind whirls with the information Chan just threw at you. "So, all of this," you gesture to your surroundings, "was for me? There's no SKZ Code?"

He shakes his head, his hand coming to rest on your arm, "No SKZ Code."

"And my mom still doesn't want to see me?"

He shakes his head again, slower this time. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you. I thought she'd be more open to talk to you, to us, but she wasn't. If I'd have known it'd end this way, I would've never done all this."

You sit there in silence, your gaze downcast. There's no sadness or anger in your heart, no tears welling up in your eyes. You expelled all the emotions you could over the past few weeks, and you've left yourself with nothing.

You stand, your only desire to go lay down on the plushy bed you found in one of the bedrooms when you were exploring earlier. As you walk away from Chan, he stops you.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I can come with you?"

"No thank you, I'll be fine," your voice is robotic as you decline his offer. You make your way to the room, climbing up the stairs to the second floor.

You're out like a light as soon as your head hits the feathery pillow, the day’s events catching up to you all at once.

~ ~ ~

You're rudely awoken by the sound of your phone ringing. You pull it out from your pocket, your eyes squinting at the brightness.

Your eyes widen at the contact name that appears on the screen.

Dad

You quickly press the answer button, scared if you wait too long the opportunity will disappear quicker than it showed up.

Your dad had always been a follower. He's the youngest of four siblings, so it was instinctual for him to do what they did. When he married your mom, he had been the same way. Whatever your mom said went.

Your dad loved you and your brother so much, with all his heart, but when your mom started to act up, he became distant. He was never mean to you; he just stopped calling one day, stopped texting. You knew it was because of your mom; a part of you thought he was scared of her.

The last few times you'd gone home, the tension between them was almost unbearable, but your dad always rolled with it. Essentially, he was your mom's very own punching bag. You felt bad for him, but only he had the power to do something about it. You certainly didn't want to say anything. You were already walking on eggshells with her, the last thing you wanted to do was upset her more.

You bring the phone up to your ear, a shaky 'Hello?' leaving your overly chapped lips.

"Hi, sweetie. It's Dad," his voice is as shaky as yours, and he sounds choked up.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"I can't do it anymore, Y/N. I cannot listen to her and let her treat you this way anymore."

Your heart breaks for him. All throughout your childhood they had been a happily married couple. The love they had for each other was immense.

"I'm getting a divorce, and I'm taking your brother with me."

Your heart is so conflicted. On one hand, this is the greatest news you've ever heard. You'll get your dad and brother back! On the other hand, you'd never wish divorce on anyone. While this experience would not be exceptionally hard for you, given your nonexistent relationship with your mom and the fact that you don't even live at home, it would certainly be hard for the people you love.

"After your band mates came and tried to talk some sense into your mother, it made me realize how blind I've been these past few years. She’s been so mean and cruel to you, and I just sat by and watched."

You don't know how your little brother will take it. Your mom has spoiled him with everything under the sun. This will surely devastate him.

Your dad, too, this can't be easy for him. You know it's not easy for him from the quiet sobs you hear on the other side of the phone.

You're not sure what to say as he continues to cry. "Dad-"

"Honey, please forgive me," he pleads, his voice cracking. "I've let your mom walk all over us for years now, and I'm so sorry."

"Dad, it's ok. It's not your fault."

He's quiet for a moment. "I have Ben at Grandma's house now. Can you come? He's crying so hard. It wasn't easy to leave, your mom put up a fight and was screaming. I think it scared him a bit."

"Yes, Dad, I will be there as soon as possible. I'm leaving now. Can you send me the address so I can give it to the driver?"

He sends the address and you hang up, promising you'll see him in just a few minutes.

You hurriedly put your shoes on and run down the stairs. All your members are sat in the living room, some video game lighting up the television.

"My dad’s getting a divorce, and he has my brother at my grandma's right now. I have to go see them," you quickly ramble out, looking in your purse to make sure you have everything.

The guys are stunned at your demeanor. They haven't seen you move with such determination in weeks.

"I'm coming with you," Chan says matter-of-factly, standing from the sofa to put his shoes on.

"Chan, you don't have-"

"I want to. I just want to make sure everything's alright," he sighs at the look you give him, your eyes boring into his. "I'll even stay in the car."

You roll your eyes at that, but you don't fight him. You suppose it doesn't really matter if he's there; you just want to see your family again.

~ ~ ~

One short car ride later and you're jumping out of the car, the seatbelt flinging back against the door. Your brother waits for you on the porch, the biggest smile gracing his lips.

You sprint at him, swinging him off his feet and embracing him tightly. "I've missed you sissy!" he cheers, his little arms wound tight around your neck. His tears have dried since your phone call with your dad, leaving little streaks down his cheeks.

"I've missed you more, Bubby," you tell him, thankful to have him in your arms again. Your eyes crinkle as your mouth splits into the biggest smile.

Your dad comes outside upon your arrival and wraps the two of you in a hug, giving you a tight squeeze. His eyes meet Chan's over your shoulder, who decided to step just outside of the car.

'Thank you,' your dad mouths to Chan, giving him a grateful smile.

‘Thank you’ for what? Chan wasn’t exactly sure. Bringing you to him? He’d do it a million times over. Taking care of you? He’d never let you struggle without him by your side.

Chan gives him a thumbs up in reply, just happy to see you happy again.

[ganymede-princess]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ these violent delights | davos blackwood (part 9) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ❤️‍🔥| Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ❤️‍🔥

ship: davos blackwood x fem!oc

warnings: 18+ explicit smut

summary: they fuck

word count: 5333

a/n: this chapter is long asf and I was almost going to publish it as a two parter and leave you all with blue balls once again but I decided to just wait it out until I finished it! So sorry about the extra long wait. Next chapter is the END (I hope) not counting the epilogue okay bye

written by @ganymede-princess

When Cersha returned to her chamber, she was not surprised to see Davos perched on the bay windowsill, his fingers laced around his bent knee while his injured leg stretched out beside him. She had expected him to be blistering mad at her abrupt dismissal earlier that afternoon, but he was a vision of weary resignation as his forehead rested on the glass. The watery light filtered through the fresh linen shirt he had dressed in, showing the curve of his torso and the sinewy length of his arms. He lifted his head and smiled as the door creaked shut, she saw that he was rid of the patchy beard that had grown in the twelve days since the battle. Had it really been such a short time?

“My, I’ve never seen you so clean.” She teased.

“All in service of you, my lady.” He got shakily to his feet and bowed mockingly.

“Davos, please.” She sighed, the elation of her epiphany at the sept already waning.

“What?” He cocked his head to the side and offered a slanted smirk. “I’m your sworn protector, aren’t I? Chastely sworn… we both know how that turned out, now don’t we?”

She reddened at the memory of his lips stamping wet marks across her skin. She said nothing, only rolling her eyes. He sat back heavily on the sill and clucked his tongue.

“Were you sitting on that lie for long?”

“Only since…” She drifted off, feeling a wave of residual panic at the memory of the night before. Davos’ face softened and she shied away from the earnestness of it. “Look, I’m sorry. I am. I just, I wasn’t sure how Oscar would take it if he knew who you were or that a Blackwood had killed a Night’s Watchman on his land, I thought he might…”

“Execute me on the spot?”

“No! No, he’d never kill unless he had to. I was afraid he may send you back to your family to be punished for desertion, or that he might have just thrown you in the dungeon or something for starting this whole mess.”

“’Starting this whole mess,’ is that what you think? Is that why you still don’t trust me after all we’ve been through?”

“No! You were defending your family’s honour, I cannot fault you that, but the battle began with the swing of your sword. That is the truth. I feared Oscar’s retribution, but his ire is for the lord regent who instructed the default on the assize.”

“Always trying to protect me, aren’t you? What ire could that boy have? He looks as if-”

“As much ire as I’ll have if you speak ill of him.” He just scoffed and shook his head. “Asides, it matters not. Oscar recognised you.”

“I could have told you that,” He said. “If you’d only told me of your plans.”

“I see that now.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I surmised you would not take kindly to concealing your identity from the regent high lord. I did not want to fight you.”

“Why?” His expression darkened as he pushed to his feet and limped a step closer to her. “Are you afraid of me?” A step closer. “Think I might kill you?”

Another step closed the gap between them, his hand coming to rest feather-light on her neck. Her eyelids drooped as the tickles of his callouses fizzed through her brain.

“We’ve come this far crow boy.” She looked up through her lashes, seeing him obscured behind soft focus and beige streaks. “If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now.” She pressed forward until there was a slight pressure on her throat. “I’ve seen the fire in you, but I’m not scared. It burns for me, does it not?”

“Aye.” He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as his pupils blew out into glossy black discs in the confines of his dark eyes. “All for you, my lady.”

That was enough to make her melt into his touch, savouring the warm, full feeling that radiated from his rough hand as it formed the perfect collar around her swan-curved neck. That feeling, not of possession but of belonging, as people sometimes belong to each other. Her hands found his neck in some attempt to mirror the experience back to him, thumbs stroking the smooth skin from his ears to his collarbones as his eyes drifted closed. His breaths grew ragged as he leaned in to rest his forehead on hers.

“I think…” His nose brushed hers, lips so close that every breath was a heady exchange of essence, hearts racing in syncopated time. “...I want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

“Is that so surprising?” Her fingers stroking his jaw pulsed a rhythm in his veins.

“I don’t kiss.” He growled weakly, stomach fluttering like a virgin maid.

“Why?” Her breath on his lips was the ghost of a kiss.

“Brings all sorts of… feelings.” Her hands were in his hair now, scratching gently at his scalp and savouring the rabbity softness of his freshly washed locks until blissful tremors weakened his knees.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He let go of a whimper as she rubbed her nose against his.

“If I kiss you, I’ll never stand to be parted from you. I’ll have to marry you.”

She pulled back, all the silvery feeling rushing through the channel of their meeting eyes.

“Kiss me.”

In that soft afternoon light, safe at last behind the stony battlements with the dull roar of the rushing moat shielding them from silence, in a room lovingly furnished with the colours of their liege, with the perfumed steam from the bath behind the fish mural divider wreathing around them, they shook off their houses like two bucks losing their antlers in spring. It was as if there had been a levee between them, weeping water from long spiderweb cracks, and now the stones came bursting out and there it was. The torrent of feeling, the lips parting, the passion, the crush, the smelting together of two beings in this primeval ritual.

At last they broke apart, her gasping for air and him kissing down her neck, whining against her perfect skin.

“Davos.” She panted. He nipped her. She took a handful of black hair and tugged it firmly. “Davos!”

“Mm…” He tilted his head back and she saw his eyes clouded by lust.

“Behave.” She pecked his swollen lips. “I must bathe first. I stink.”

A mischievous grin spread across his face and he buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell-” Sniff. “-fantastic.”

As she lifted her arm to push him away he stuck his face right into the pit and drew in a long breath.

“Like a woman.” He sighed dreamily and began peppering kisses across her chest.

“Get away!” She laughed, lifting her arms and throwing back her head to give him more access to the skin exposed by her dress. “You foul beast.”

He just chuckled and kissed all over her collarbones, bending double as she backed away until they bumped into the tub. He whined when he realised where they had ended up.

“Sweetling.” He pouted, trying to coax her back toward the bed.

“Davos, anyone would think you’re starving.” She rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile. “Come on. Won’t you wash my hair for me?”

“You know slavery is outlawed in the Seven Kingdoms?”

“Just get in the bath.” She pursed her lips derisively, letting her hands wander up under his shirt to explore the dips and curves of his back. “Just… soak with me for a while. Please?”

He scoffed and she could see him fighting against a blissful smile as her nails raked up his spine.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” She murmured. “Was that so hard?”

He smiled in that exasperated way, peeled off his shirt and dropped his breeches and underclothes in a swift, practical motion. For an instant she was stunned by the beauty of him; the subtle dips and rises of muscle on his thin limbs and torso, the grazes, bruises and old faded scars that each served as a reminder of passionate fury roused when something he loved was at risk, and the supple pink skin of his dick that hung half-hard by his thigh.

“What?” He grinned. “Like what you see?”

“Your wound.” She pointed to the bandage on his thigh, trying to save face.

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you want me in the bath or not?”

She bit her lip.

“You can dress it again later.” He had pulled it off and clambered awkwardly into the milky water before she had the chance to protest, gripping both sides of the tub as he gingerly lowered himself down. “Gods, that’s lovely.”

“You’re always putting yourself in harm’s way for me.”

“You love it.” She did love it. “Though I hardly think a bath can be considered ‘harm’s way.’ Besides, this is far nicer than the bath they drew for me. Just hot water, a rag and a bar of soap. No…” He picked out a floating rose petal and inspected it before letting it float away like a grumpkin’s sailboat. “...luxury.”

She noticed then that she had indeed been showered in what little frills Riverrun could afford with an encroaching war. Roses from the gardens floating on water white from goat’s milk; she suspected from the lactonic, pastoral scent that it was not the cow’s milk favoured by most highborn ladies for bathing. The water was silky through her fingers, from salt and honey she assumed, and lavender oil turned the steam heavy and narcotic.

“The boy favours you still.” Davos remarked as he reached for a brown-skinned pear from the tray on the side table, cut in half and loaded high with soft cheese and a crust of walnuts, and popped the whole thing in his mouth, wiping the juice with the back of his hand.

“Enough about Oscar.” She flicked a scoop of water at him, making him sputter. “And don’t eat all those, I’m starving. Did they not feed you earlier?”

“They did, but I’m never satisfied, my lady.” He smiled sweetly. “Minnows and cress on toast, though the ones you catch are far sweeter.”

“Thank you.” She preened, though his flattery was obvious, and took a pear for herself, a little moan escaping her at the flavour. “I must confess, I have missed real food. I hope they give us lamb tonight, or veal. Something that’s fed on grass and hasn’t had to fight for every morsel-”

“Are you getting in or not?”

She huffed at his blunt tone and expectant face, and finished her pear in two irritated bites. The amusement on his face was almost enough to make her storm off, but stronger than the annoyance that was only heightened by the bubbling fear of removing her clothes in front of him was her desire to be close to him. She turned her back to him and unlaced her dusty riding gown, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. In just her smallclothes, she hesitated. His eyes burned her from behind as the air burned her from inside. She heard the water slosh and Davos’s hand found hers, dripping water on her gown.

“Hey.” He said softly, squeezing her hand gently until she turned and met his eyes. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not gonna laugh at you. Whatever you’re afraid of-” He tapped his temple. “It’s in here. I think you’re beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, letting the words settle inside her, then lifted his hand to the lacing on her top. In a few deft movements he had pulled it loose, letting her free herself from it along with the bottoms. Instinct told her to cover herself, but she balled her fists and held them at her sides, letting his gaze roam across her form. She had always thought of herself as ungainly, all sharp angles and no curves, but under his eyes she felt her jutting hip and shoulder bones held the beauty of an ancient gnarled willow, and her long sinewy arms still covered in dirt were like the wings of a falcon rising from a bath of dust. She was a dryad and she glowed.

“You are…” He kissed her hand. “…so…” Again. “...fucking…” Once more. “...gorgeous. Gods, I don’t know what you’ve done to me, woman. You’re all I ever think about.”

The haze of steam caught the candlelight and danced in wisps around him. His hair turned black as pitch in the damp, the blood rose to his cheeks, and beneath that deep grey, his eyes were so green. Green like moss and agate and beetle wings. He was made of frown lines and scars, taut muscle, crooked teeth and passion like fire.

“Davos.” Her hand found his face. “I meant to say before, but… I suppose I was frightened. But, you’re- you’re… a vision. I am so glad to have met you.”

She kissed him, and for a moment it was all lips and fig sweetness until he smiled against her.

“Get in the bath.”

“Fine.”

She tried to glower as she clambered in beside him, but the warm embrace of the water was far too enticing. The surface sloshed as he spread his knees, making room for her to sit between his legs, and the level rose so high it nearly ran over the edge when they were both settled.

“Was that so hard?” He mumbled as he kissed her shoulder.

“Shut up.”

They sat that way for a while, cloistered in hot silky water. She ate her pears and washed the dirt from her skin, and he hummed a ballad so sweet that she could have cried. When she was done he freed her filthy hair from the braid, lathered it with soap and washed it with deft fingers massaging her scalp. She could not help the little groans of satisfaction that escaped her at the gentle tickling touch. She could feel him pressing into her back as he fisted her wet hair tightly and let his lips rest flush against the shell of her ear, his hot breath sending tingles to her toes.

“I’m warning you, my lady, if you keep making those filthy noises I might take right here in the bath.”

“Maybe you ought to.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Would you like that?” His lips parted to kiss her ear and she felt her eyes slip out of focus at the sensitivity there.

“Please.”

His free hand found her nipple, already a hard, pink marble beneath the hot water, and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips lifted and her hand fell between her spreading legs in an involuntary response.

“Please, please,” Came his rough whisper. “Please what, my lady?”

“Please…” She gasped. “Please touch me.”

“Where? Where can I touch to please you, my sweet-” Kiss. “-virtuous-” Kiss. “-Bracken-”

A slosh of water hit the ground as she whipped around and took hold of his cock, feeling it hard, yet supple under her grasp like a lance wrapped in silk. He whimpered as she pulled her hand in slow, deliberate motions around the head.

“If you don’t stop teasing me I’ll rip it off, I swear.”

“There she is.” He relinquished his grip on her hair as he rocked his hips, letting his length slide through her hand as he gripped her thighs. “There’s the fire.”

He pulled her legs apart without another thought and ran his fingers along her slit. She was slick where the water had not washed it away, and he could feel the folds of her were swollen blooms beneath the wiry swathe of hair. She jolted when he found that little button at the top, a high keening coming from her throat at that sweet agony.

“It’s okay now, my love.” He assured her.

“It’s…” She whined. “It’s so…”

“It’s so good, sweetling, I know. I know.”

He spread her open with one hand, pulling back the hood of skin that covered that nub and rubbed his fingers in steady circles, drawing moans from her like music from a harp. Her hips pushed up against him and she lost hold of his cock, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was that beautiful rhythm of her reaching for him, reaching for that incomprehensible height. His fingers slowed, he needed her lucid for a moment.

“Cersha.” He spoke against her ear. “Are you listening darling?”

“Mm.” She nodded, desperately pushing up against the minute rotations of his digits.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

She nodded again.

“On the inside?”

“No.” She shook her head, her voice strained. “Never inside.”

A puff of breath escaped him.

“Do you…” She panted. “Like that about me?”

“Does it make me… perverse if I do?” He growled. “If I want to claim you before anyone, before even you?”

“I want it to be you.” She admitted freely.

“Then it will be me.” He kissed her cheek reassuringly, his fingers circling her bud a faster now.

He worked on her for a while, bringing her back to the peak, and as pleasure rolled through her like white-capped waves, a finger plunged inside her. It slid in so easily that she scarcely registered the change until she grew aware of a strange tightening, and a thickness that she clenched against. She gasped, earning a chuckle from her lover.

“Is that good?”

She nodded, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to slowly, incrementally pump it in and out. Just as she was growing used to the rhythm, he curled his finger inwards and seemed to hit some strange point that sent a jolt of pleasure through her. She shrieked and covered her face.

“That’s good, isn’t it, sweetling?”

He nuzzled the side of her face as his fingers rapidly fluttered against her sweet spot, his palm bumping her bud, radiating syrupy, heady sensation. She gave a little yelp and buried her face in his neck, making him grin.

“More…” She managed to say. “...please.”

“As you wish.”

She felt empty for a moment as he drew back his finger, but soon enough she was gasping against the overflowing fullness of two thick, calloused digits drawing over that sponge of mystifying bliss.

“Gods, you’re tight.” He muttered darkly, thrusting them as deeply as he could.

“Davos, I think- I think I’m...”

“Let go, my love.” He whispered, his hand moving at an impossible pace. “Cum for me.”

It was those rough-spun words that were her undoing. She seized and gripped the bathtub, rolling over the wave of boiling pleasure. It was a brief thing, a blink of bliss wherein her thoughts were entirely drowned out, clenching rhythmically around his digits until she relaxed, flopping back against his silken torso. His arms found their way around her stomach and he squeezed her tight against him.

“You did so well, sweetling.” He rocked her gently for a while, until she felt strong enough to speak.

“That thing you did for me at the inn,” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That thing you did with your mouth...”

“I ate out your cunny, sweetling, that’s what I did.” His eyes stirred with lust and mischief. “You want more?”

“No- yes, but no. I want to do it for you. I want to- to…”

“You want to suck my cock?” He put a hand to her cheek, his expression a mix of want and concern. “You don’t have to, Cersha. It’s gruelling work, I should know.”

“What do you mean?”

His cheeks tinted and a strange flash of agony passed over his face before he shook it away.

“Well, I’m no stranger to buggery, but I always preferred the fairer sex. Let’s leave it at that.” She felt a rush of curiosity at his words, and he must have noticed as he sighed moodily. “One day, I’ll tell you about the boy. I promise.” She swallowed her questions and nodded. “Shall we move to the bed?”

She got up eagerly, splattering more water onto the floor as she went, but was slightly alarmed to find her legs were already trembling. She offered Davos her hands, and he eyed them speculatively for a moment. She thought he might try to drag himself up on his own, but he took her help and soon they stood, holding one another as the water rolled off them in rivers. He giggled impishly, kissing her all over and before either of them knew it they were flopping down on the bed, still sopping wet like two otters in heat.

“We’re getting the sheets wet.” She protested weakly.

“We’ll sleep in my chambers.” He muttered, shuffling around until his injured leg had room to stretch out. “The bed is just as soft, if not so lovingly furnished.”

“Are you comfortable?” She fussed, hating the sight of his wound without a bandage. The messy sutures she had administered had been replaced by neat little stitches since they had arrived at Riverrun; the work of a Maester, Cersha supposed.

He put his hand to her cheek, a half-mocking look of amusement on his face.

“I am not made of glass. Now, are you sure you want to do this?” She nodded eagerly, and he guided her face gently downward. “Alright, I’ll show you how.”

She settled herself by his waist and watched, almost in awe, as he spit in his hand and gently tugged his length. The fold of skin pulled back and slipped easily up and down the moist, pink tip. He groaned lightly as he worked on himself, and in a few smooth strokes he had grown stiff and engorged. Cersha felt her mouth water, and was surprised to find that she felt no shame. She knew he would be big- in the pitch dark of that night in the inn, she had felt his impossible length slide through her hand- but nothing could have prepared her to actually see a man’s naked form, and it excited her more than she cared to admit.

“Put your mouth around the tip.” He instructed, using his free hand to gather her hair and hold it at the base of her neck. “Use your lips to block your teeth, that’s it, darling.”

She had to stretch her mouth wide to take him in, but it was worth it for the salty sweetness that spread across her tongue.

“Good girl.” He growled. “Good girl. Now feel around with your tongue. Do you feel that?That ridge, just there, right- right there.”

On the tip of her tongue rested a firm seam of skin, just at the base of the head. She flickered her tongue across it in a rapid flurry, and he whimpered. His hips lifting and an inch more of his length entered her mouth triggering a gulp of surprise.

“Oh, yes. Yes, sweetling that’s it, that’s it, just focus on the head.” With his hand in her hair he tenderly guided her head up and down, up and down, never forcing himself any deeper than she could comfortably take. “Bob your head like that, just take it in and out. You don’t-” He interrupted himself with a weak grimace. “-you don’t have to take it deep. It’s lovely if you do, but… but just do what you can, darling. Keep working with your tongue, you’re doing beautifully my love.”

He relinquished his grip on her hair, trusting her to keep up the rhythm, and wrapped his hand around his shaft, jerking himself into her mouth, while his other hand found his plump stones, rolling them in his palm. Cersha gripped his thighs, growing light-headed as she moaned and slurped around the size of him. It seemed he had given up on words, and instead fell into a frenzy of… moans? No, growls. He was like an animal, half-way between deep rumbles and high keening whines, his hips rolling and thrusting upward, seeming to forget his earlier gentleness. She took him deeper, gagging as he hit the back of her throat. Before she knew it, his hands were on her forehead and he was pushing her off of him.

“Did- did I bite you?” She gasped.

“No! Darling, no, I made you gag.” He struggled to sit up and held her face in his hands, stroking her hair, his face a mask of concern. “I cannot believe I did that, I’m so sorry, Cersha.”

“You didn’t mean to!” She eagerly reached for him again, but he caught her hand and kissed them all over.

“Still.” He implored. “I’m sorry. Besides, we had to stop. I would have finished in your mouth, I’m sure you wouldn’t like that.”

She considered for a moment.

“I… I suppose not.”

His face softened sympathetically.

“I want you to… to, um, to cum, though. It’s only fair.”

He chuckled at her choice of words and kissed her forehead.

“I can use my hand, if only you kiss me while I do it.” He gauged her disappointment with an impish smirk. “Or… I could fuck you, I suppose. If you want me to, that is.”

“Oh, please!”

He tossed his head back and laughed, pulling her into his embrace.

“Oh, my girl…” He pushed her wet hair away from her eyes. “I would work for hours like a draft horse if it would please you.”

He struggled to heave himself up, but she pushed him back by the shoulders. He made a little oof sound and his puggish nose crinkled in annoyance.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I’d rather it this way.”

A grin dimpled his cheeks and his eyes glittered.

“Oh, really?” She just smiled knowingly and set about piling up pillows behind him to prop him up. He sighed dreamily. “I feel like a princess.”

“Prince of Crows,” She murmured, straddling him. “On a weirwood throne… with…” Her fingertips found his forehead. “…a red eye.”

He noticed her eyes had crossed out of focus, half closed. He took her by the arms and gave her a gentle shake that seemed to rouse her.

“You’re a witch, Bracken.” He laughed, though his heart thundered in his chest.

“I get it from my mother.” She shook her head, giggling nervously. “Anyway…”

Her hand reached between her legs to find his cock, stroking it gently. He laughed airily, happy to forget her strange words. The calloused pads of his fingers found their way to slide along her slit, and he scoffed.

“Gods, you get wet from nothing.” He seemed almost annoyed as he sunk two digits into her with no resistance. “Soaking wet…”

He withdrew and held up his fingers to show the glistening slickness that coated them, then slid them into his mouth. She gasped as he wantonly swirled his tongue around them, and pulled them out with a pop.

“The sweetest I’ve ever tasted.” He told her. “The only one I ever wish to taste again. I suppose mine could not have been such a joy to sample.”

“It was beautiful.” She kissed him, catching the ghost of herself on his lips. “You are beautiful.”

“Ah, I’m a busted old thing.” He flushed, lining himself up with her entrance. “But, thank you all the same, my lady.”

She felt the very tip of him sliding into her, and she hesitated.

“Davos, I… I do not wish to have a child.”

He palmed her cheek, as he loved to do.

“Then no child you shall have. I will spill myself upon your stomach every night until we are married, and every night thereafter until you feel the time is right.”

“And if I do not wish to marry?”

“Then unmarried we shall be.”

“And if I never want a child?” She thought of her mother then, the screams, the smell of blood like iron…

A pained expression crossed his face, but it was gone as soon as it was there.

“Then no child you shall have.”

“Do you promise?”

“On mine honour.” She searched his eyes for a sign of dishonesty, but found none, so she nodded.

She sunk down onto him, feeling her inner muscles clench and tent out as they adjusted to the thickness prising them apart. It hurt, it could not be avoided, his girth was simply too great. At the alert of her pained whimpers, he gripped her hips, holding her up until he was sure she had taken enough time to grow used to the feeling. He held her steady as she incrementally shimmied down, down, down until he bottomed out with an inch or two to spare. She cried out as she felt him pressing his bruising tip into her roof, but by then it had become a good pain, a cleansing pain.

“My girl.” He murmured. “My sweet girl.”

She lifted up from her knees, focusing on that exquisite feeling of his veins and ridges sliding against her walls, then lowered back down. Up and down, up and down, she repeated the action until she noticed he was holding his breath.

“Is that alright?”

“Yes,” He managed to utter, panting. “Gods, you’re just so tight. I can’t… I can’t see myself lasting long at this rate.”

She giggled as he whined, his hands finding her buttocks and bouncing her up and down on his rigid length, deeper and harder until she collapsed against him, grasping him like a tree in a windstorm. She grunted as he adjusted her on his lap and hit that sweet place inside her.

“Oh, fuck!” She hissed.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” His hot breath passed across her ear. “That’s the spot.”

“Oh, gods, Davos…”

He pumped upwards as he bounced her, and she felt his tip rubbing across her sweet spot before it punched against her roof, every single time. It was brutal, yet tender, and she could feel his restraint. She knew then that this man could fuck like an animal if she set him loose.

“You’re my girl.” He insisted. “Say you’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m y-your…” She spluttered. “I’m…”

Suddenly it stopped. He held her up, nothing but the tip left in her. She wriggled in his grasp, desperate for that overwhelming in-out-in-out-in-out.

“Say it, sweetling.” He cooed.

“I-I’m your girl.”

“Fuckin’ aye, you are.”

He plunged her back down, filling her in one thrust. Wave after wave of pleasure built up inside her, pump after pump, after pump until she had to bite into his shoulder to contain the half shrieking moans that had taken over her speech. It was this that broke his restraint, and as his thrusts grew sloppy, he slammed into her, fingers digging into her bony frame so harshly that they would have drawn blood were his nails longer.

“I’m c-”

The climax struck her dumb and she let out a guttural snarl as it seized all sense and reason from her. She clenched on his cock, still incessantly moving inside her, again, again, again, her eyes rolling, white fishes shimmering across her vision, until finally-

“Fuck!”

He pulled out, furiously rubbing his cock as he reached his own peak, his body stiffening and writhing as he spilled his hot seed onto her stomach. When he was done, he paused for a moment, eyes glazed and staring at nothing, until he noticed her and a flash of feeling passed across them. He did not hesitate to pull her to him, the strength of his arms evident as he crushed her against his torso, caring nothing for the stickiness there. It was then that she realised she was weeping. For what, she did not know. Perhaps, just the beauty of it all.

“Shh, shh.” His voice was flute soft again. “My beautiful girl.”

When she had regained some composure, she cleared her throat, forehead resting against his.

“I fear we need another bath.”

Thanks to my lovelies @aemondslove @disillusioned-phantasma @anaviieiraaa @deepestlovert @flordiakilos @kitty2984 @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sometings @nikkilsworld @gladiatorgladiator @borislava17 @oshun22 @spider-stark @marvelenthusiast10 @itsyagirl01 @nixtape-foryou @giggles-andkicks @benijbol @darlingcharling-blog @writervaul-t @kayrakhan @unicorntrooper @frogoerson @aphroditeanadyomene @councilofcastamere @ellxpsismm @teapomp @fuckalrighty for your reblogs and comments! I'm doing it for you guys :)

[kpop---scenarios]

Blind Spot (4)

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader x Lee Know

Warning: Hurt, Sexually Suggestive Words [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @number1jeonginstan @angelsquid @stay-tiny-things @theodorenottgf @caught-in-the-afterglow @endofjune30 @emily21morgan @moonlight-sunrise-channie @klyde06 @thefangirloncrack @shaysimpss

@bx-lov3 @anskiiz

Everything Taglist: @ivydoesit23 @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @skzooluvr

@wife2straykids @silly250 @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @1810cl

ONE | TWO | THREE

The car ride was silent, the only sound being your whispering sobs as you cried into your hands. Was this really your life? You had loved Jeongin with everything you had and given him everything you had to offer but it still wasn't good enough for him.

“Y/N…” Minho sighs. He desperately wants to comfort you, but in this instance he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to make you feel any better. His words wouldn't offer you any sort of comfort, all he could do right now was be there for you and silently curse Jeongin.

“H-he… got… Chae… pregnant.” You sob. Minho immediately pulls the car over to the side of the highway, slamming on the breaks.

“What!?” He yells, staring at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open.

You nod your head, crying even harder now. “He said he wanted nothing to do with her, or the baby… and begged for me back.” You sniffle.

“And you still came here with him?” He asks.

“He told me Grammie was sick… like on the verge of death, sick and it was her last wish to see me with him happy. Granted, I should have known he was lying but the way he paused when talking about it.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Wow.” Minho breathes, pulling back onto the highway. “I honestly never expected Jeongin to be so… manipulative, or a cheater.”

“You and me both.” You sigh. Minho looks over at you, offering a sympathetic smile as he reaches over, squeezing your thigh.

When the two of you were close to the city, your phone dinged. You looked down, seeing a text from Chae. You didn't even want to read it, but she also needed a verbal lashing, from her ex best friend.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me!” You yell, holding your phone closer to your eyes, because you surely weren't reading her text correctly.

“What? What happened?” Minho panics.

“Chae texted me.” You begin, clearing your throat. “I miss you. I miss our friendship. Can we please go back to the way we were?” You quote from your phone.

“What do you want to do?” He asks you, turning into the city.

“I need to talk to her in person.” You say, crossing your arms. You give Minho the address, and he reluctantly drives over there, feeling like something was going to happen.

The second Minho parks the car, you're out and headed towards her door. You pound on the front door without stopping until the door swings open, revealing a smiling Chae.

“You're here! Yay!” She coos, walking towards you with her arms wide open.

You put your hand up to stop her, giving her the most disgusted face you could possibly make. Her arms drop, so does her face. “What?” She asks, protruding her lip.

“Are you fucking serious?” You scoff. “You fucked my boyfriend, got knocked up by him and you think we're just going to go back to being friends?”

Chae laughs and rolls her eyes. “Girl, it's not even his baby.”

“What?” You whisper.

“I was fucking around with that tattoo guy before Jeongin. It's not his. I just wanted some money from his family.” She giggles. “We can keep up the ruse, and then you and I can go away and raise the baby together.” She excitedly exclaims, grabbing your arms to jump.

You rip your arms out of his grip. “How fucking delusional are you?” You ask. “In what world do you think that is ever going to happen? Did you use me to get close to him? Because you knew his family was wealthy?”

“Ugh, you're being so dramatic.” She groans. “Clearly the two of you didn't have that tight of a bond if I was able to weasel my way in between the two of you so easily?”

“I can't believe this…” You whisper.

“He just seemed so…bored.” She smirks.

“Are you even really pregnant? Or is that one of those fake bellies?” You ask, pointing to her little baby bump.

“Unfortunately I am. Just not with Jeongin's like you thought.” She laughs.

You're raging. You wanted to fucking murder this bitch. You lunge for her, but you're caught when a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back from her.

“Minho, let me go, I'm gonna kill her!” You scream, thrashing, trying to get out of his grip.

“I'm not gonna let you go to jail for beating a pregnant lady.” He half chuckles, bringing you back to the car.

“I wouldn't hit the stomach, just her face.” You murmur, getting into the passenger seat of his car.

“If I hadn't been here to stop you, I would have bailed you out, in case you were wondering.” He smiles. You can't help but laugh, letting go of a little bit of the anger that fueled you so fucking deeply.

As Minho pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex, you sigh loudly, knowing what you need to do next.

“I need to let Jeongin know.” You sigh, walking into Minho's apartment.

You pull out your phone, dialing his number.

“Y/N…baby.” He answers.

“Don't. Are you still with your mom? Or are you back in the city?” You ask, pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time. It was 8:00pm, so there was a chance that he might have stayed out there.

“I'm back. I left not long after you.” He says. “Well, actually my mom kicked me out. and Grammie.” He sighs.

“Can we meet? I need to talk to you.” You say.

“You name the place and I will be there.”

“Meet me at the pub. 30 minutes.” You say, hanging up the phone.

“Do you want me to come?” Minho asks. You shake your head.

“No no. You've done so much already… the last few weeks, today, the driving, keeping me out of jail. I'm so thankful to you.” You smile. You walk up to him, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before grabbing your purse, and heading out the door.

You sit at the table, chugging your drink before your server brings you another one just as Jeongin walks in, looking like a lost puppy until he finds you and perks up.

“Y/N.” He smiles, sitting across from you.

“I just wanted to let you know that Chae is lying to you. She's pregnant but it's not yours. She just wants your family's money.” You tell him.

His face goes from smiles to pouting within seconds. “Oh.” He whispers. “Well I guess since she's not pregnant with my baby, then we can get back together, hey?” He smiles.

“Oh my god. You and her, you're both so fucking delusional. We're not getting back together. After this I want nothing more to do with you.” You snap.

“I kinda wanted to be a dad.” He says, ignoring what you had said. “You know…” He pauses, smiling at you. “What if I knock you up and make you the mom?” He asks.

“Get the fuck out of here, Jeongin because I'm seconds away from losing my god damn shit and throwing this glass at your head.” You whisper yell.

“Think about it.” He winks, getting up from the table and walking out of the pub.

You sit there, downing drink after drink until the entire establishment starts to spin. You barely manage to get your phone out of your bag, trying to dial Minho's number but it wasn't going so well. Luckily your phone rings, Minho's name pops up.

“Heeeellloooo?” You answer the phone in a sing-song voice.

“Oh boy.” He laughs. “It didn't go well did it?” He asks.

“He.” Hiccup. “Really has a lot of audacity.” Hiccup.

“He does seem to have a lot of that.” Minho laughs. “Would you like me to come get you?”

“I'd really like that.” You coo.

“Look up.” He says.

You look up at the front door, seeing Minho standing there holding his phone up to his ear. He smiles at you, hanging up his phone to walk towards you. “Come on.” He says, helping you up, wrapping his arm around your waist, bringing you out to his car. As soon as you're in the seat, your eyes close, just for a second, and when you open them again, you're suddenly back in Minho's apartment.

“Don't leave me on the couch.” You pout as he walks you towards it. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I wanna sleep with you.”

“You're drunk.” He laughs.

“Not like that.” You giggle. “Well yeah, like that… if you wanted too?”

“Let's get you to bed.” He says, bringing you into his bedroom. He plops you down onto his bed, helping you remove your shoes.

“My pants.” You sigh, covering your eyes with your arm. You can feel the hesitation from Minho as he pauses for a few seconds before he pulls your pants down and off your body. Once they were off, you finally felt free enough to get comfortable, snuggling into his bed. Minho crawls in, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you, but you didn't like that. You wanted no space between you. You scoot over, laying your head on his chest as he wraps his arm around you. You begin to doze off in seconds, almost missing hearing him whispering about how right this felt.

You woke up hours later, with the driest throat you had ever experienced. You crawled out of the bed, shuffling to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You chug it, looking at your phone and all the texts you had received from Jeongin. It didn't seem like he understood how serious you were when you told him you wanted nothing more to do with him. He was texting you asking to take you out on a date, wondering when you were going to be moving back into the apartment because his friends were talking and he didn't know what to tell him.

[To: Do Not Answer 4:05am] I don't want to go on a date with you, I'm not moving back in. Tell your friends the truth. You cheated and I left you. I was serious when I said that I want nothing more to do with you. This will be my last message. Lose my number.

You toss your phone back on the couch, walking back to Minho’s room to crawl back into bed with him. You lay a little away from him, with your back facing him, trying to stretch out a little bit. Minho groans as he rolls towards you, pushing himself closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He breathes onto your neck, nuzzling his face in. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, you wiggle closer to him, making him moan, which makes you smile.

“Mhmm.” He groans. “Are you sure you wanna start this?”

You grin, still facing away from him. “Oh, I absolutely wanna start this.”

[wintersoldiersoul]

A House is Not a Home

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse from parents, mention of eating disorder and past suicide attempt. This fic covers a lot of heavy topics please do not read if any of this will upset or trigger you

Word count: 2.5k

A firm metal metal hand was placed on your leg the entire two hour drive. His fingers methodically rubbed over your leg, trying to keep you calm. 

You hadn’t wanted to go home for thanksgiving but you did wanna see your little sister. Even if it meant having to face your parents. 

All that you had told Bucky was that you had a complicated relationship with your parents. That was enough for him. He didn’t wanna pry or push you to tell him more until you were ready to tell him.

You were tense in the days leading up to going home, snapping at just about everyone, stressing over what you were going to wear for hours on end, and even making Bucky try on a dozen things before deciding what was right. You may not have told him all of the details about your family, but he knew that he had to support you through the visit.

You took a deep breath as you pulled into the driveway. Even just looking at the house made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Bucky said, turning your face to him. “It’s not too late to turn around. We can back out of this driveway and go right back home.”

“I know, I know.” You sounded out of breath like you were trying to keep a panic attack at bay, which you were. “But I have to do this. If I give up now, I’ll just be mad at myself. Plus, my sister asked me to be here. I have to do this for her.”

He kissed you passionately before getting out of the car and running around to open your door for you.

You played with your dress when you got out of the car. “Do I look okay? Is my hair fine? Any wrinkles in my dress?” You turned around, waiting for Bucky to inspect you and make sure you looked perfect. 

“Honey, you look beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” He placed a supportive hand on your back as you walked to the door.

“Y/N!” Your mother said with a sickly smile as she opened the door. That was her front. The fake smiles and niceness. You winced as she pulled you into a hug. “Have you been eating healthy?” She grabbed your shoulders, analyzing your body. “You look like you’ve gained weight. I’m worried about you.” 

Of course she had already made a comment on your weight before you had even made it five steps in the door. “Nice to see you too, Mom,” you huffed, not acknowledging her comment. “This is Bucky.”

“I’m impressed,” your mom said, looking him up and down. “Who’s paying you to be with her, huh?”

“Wow, thanks mom,” you said harshly. Great, you were already losing it and it had been about 30 seconds.

“Oh, honey, I’m just kidding!” She laughed at her own “joke” as she walked away.

“Oh, wow,” Bucky said to you, eyes wide. “That’s your mother.”

You nodded slowly. “That was my mother being nice.” He took his hand in yours. “Come on, I want you to meet my sister.”

You lead him through the house in search of your younger sister, Charlotte. After being unable to find her downstairs, you went upstairs and knocked on her door. When you opened it, she was sat on her bed scrolling on her phone. 

“Y/N!” She ran over when she saw you. You laughed, pulling her into a tight embrace. Even though she was 17, she was your best friend.

“What are you doing up here, Char?” You asked, already somewhat knowing the answer.

She looked at you, expression growing serious. “He started drinking at 5am.”

You had been expecting to find your father drunk. He was an alcoholic and he had been your entire life. He had periods where he would be functional, almost being an actual loving father to you. But the holidays were always bad. He was seen with a drink in his hand at all times. He was aggressive and would lash out at any time. Your whole childhood, you walked on eggshells hoping that you wouldn’t be in the wrong place at the wrong time and become his target.

You looked at your sister, noticing a bruise on her arm. “Jesus, Char,” you said, holding her wrist carefully to look closer. “Is this from today?”

She nodded. “It wasn’t that bad. He just grabbed me. I’ve been up here since. He’s probably in the basement drunk off his ass watching football.” 

Bucky silently stood listening to the two of you speak. He didn’t need anyone to spell out for him what was happening. It all made sense now. The way you would flinch when anyone showed a sign of aggression. Why you didn’t drink. Even why you were always concerned about your weight and the way you looked.

“Y/N…” he said quietly. He was in shock. 

“Oh, sorry. Charlotte, this is Bucky.”

Charlotte looked him up and down. “Damn, sis! Do you happen to have a younger brother by any chance?” The comment was just like Charlotte. Able to go from sad and dark to joking and upbeat in seconds. 

Bucky laughed. “I like you already.”

An hour later, you had finally convinced Charlotte to come out of her room and join you downstairs. “I’m not gonna let him touch you, okay?” You reassured her. There was still no sign of your father but occasional yelling could be heard from the basement, causing both you and your sister to flinch each time.

Your aunt came into the living room to tell you that dinner was ready. “Great,” you sighed as the three of you got up. Eating any meal with your mother wasn’t a fun time for you.

Everyone sat down around the large dining room table. You heard heavy footsteps approaching as your father’s face came into view. He was clearly piss drunk. Normally, the sight would make you shudder away like a child but having Bucky next to you made you feel safe. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. 

“Y/N,” he said sternly. “Nice of you to finally show your face around here. A bitch gets recruited by Tony Stark and she’s suddenly too good for the man who fuckin’ raised her.”

You didn’t say anything in response, just looked at the floor unable to meet his eyes. You always knew your brain would get you out of that house, some way. You never expected your dream to come true, getting to work with Tony as his lab assistant.

“You gonna answer your father, you little bitch?” He snapped. 

“What, you gonna hit me if I don’t?” You snapped, standing up.

Your father lunged at you. “Ungrateful cunt. I gave you everything!” 

The second he stepped towards you, Bucky was up and out of his seat blocking his path. Over his dead body would this man ever lay a hand on you, or your sister, ever again. “Keep your fucking hands off of her!” Your boyfriend said.

Your mother stood up. “I didn’t slave over this meal for two days so it could go cold on the table!”

Your father backed off, sitting down and you and Bucky did the same. Everyone started passing around the food and you put a miniscule amount on your plate. You could eat more later back at the compound if you were hungry.

“Babe, you gotta eat more than that,” Bucky said, putting another scoop of mashed potatoes on your plate.

Your mother watched as the negative space on the dish shrunk. “You really think you should be eating all of that, sweetie?” She noticed the glare you gave her as she spoke. “I’m just looking out for you,” she chimed, placing a hand on yours.

You rushed out of the house within seconds after everyone had finished eating. You tried to convince Charlotte to come stay with you, even just for a couple nights, but she assured you she was fine and she was gonna stay with her best friend for a few days. You told her that if she needed to leave, she could always come to the compound. Temporary, or for good. You just wanted to protect your little sister. Without you even asking, Bucky got in the driver’s seat. It was like he could read your mind that you weren’t in the headspace to operate a vehicle. 

You were quiet as you drove back, unsure of what to even say. You felt bad that you hadn't fully prepared Bucky for what he was walking into. You were naive to think that your family could have one normal holiday.

“I’m sorry,” you finally spoke, 40 minutes into the drive. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“Hey,” he placed his hand back on your thigh, where it had sat the entire drive there. “Do not apologize. I’m sorry. I should have done more to defend you. I just wish I had known. I would have pulled out some old Winter Soldier moves,” he smiled, trying his hardest to make you laugh. 

You flashed him a small smile. “Just you being there with me was more than enough. My family is… complicated.” The things Bucky had seen tonight only scratched the surface of how you had grown up. “My mom, she… she’s always been on me about my weight. The first memory I have of her pointing out what I was eating is from when I was 4. I mean, I couldn’t even read yet but she was scolding me for eating a fucking cookie once in a while!” you laughed dryly, trying to hold back tears. “She put me on a diet plan when I was 11. I was only allowed to eat 800 calories a day. Then when I turned 15, it became 700. I developed a really bad eating disorder, obviously. I’ve gotten it under control but… I don’t know if I’ll ever fully be free of the things she put into my head.”

“Jesus…” Bucky was shocked. “You were just a child. Literally a child. I mean 4 years old? Who does that? And to their own daughter!” 

You went quiet as tears fell from your cheeks. Even the years of therapy that you had done couldn’t erase the pain you had gone through. All of the times that you just needed a mother. 

“I didn’t have anyone, Buck,” you said quietly. “I’m sure you’ve gathered what happened with my dad. He’s a drunk and he a piece of shit who hits his fucking children.”

Bucky’s heart broke for you. No one deserved what you had gone through. “Baby…” he said, softly. “You deserve so much better. Parents who took care of you. Who loved you. I know this doesn’t erase any of the pain but just listen to me for a second. You are incredible. You are a genius who is creating world-changing technology. You are kind and sympathetic and such a genuinely good soul. And you are beautiful. Inside and out. I know that doesn’t take away the things those fuckers did to you,” he took a deep breath, getting angry just from thinking about it. “But you didn’t let that stop you from changing the fucking world. I already admired you every single day, but now I admire you even more. God, baby, I’m so in awe of you. You are so resilient.” 

His words made you cry even more. He didn’t tell you to stop. He just let you cry as he drove, desperate to get home so he could hold you tightly. 

Eventually, he pulled into the compound. He held your hand as he walked you to your room. You were still crying, clearly physically and emotionally exhausted from the day you had. He helped you change out of your dress, slipping one of his sweatshirts on over your head and getting you into pajama pants. He brought you water so you could rehydrate all of the tears you had emitted. And then he curled up beside you and held you as tight as he could.

“I tried to kill myself once,” you spoke after a long time. Your voice was so quiet he thought he had heard you wrong. The words made his heart beat fast. “When I was 16. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I swallowed a bunch of pills and just waited for it all to be over.” You paused, catching your breath before continuing. “Charlotte found me. She was only 9 at the time. I woke up in the hospital and my mom came in. Do you know what she said to me?” You let out another sob. “She told me she wished it had worked. She said she wished Charlotte hadn't known to call 911 in an emergency. My own mother wanted me dead, Bucky,” you cried, burying your face into his chest and staining his shirt with tears.

“Oh my god,” he said, rubbing your back up and down. “God, I don’t know what to say. I’m so happy you’re still here. You’re the love of my life and I-” he felt his own voice breaking. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so thankful to your sister, you have no idea. The thought of never meeting you, the thought of losing you… I wouldn’t know what I’d do, baby. Do you… do you still think about killing yourself ever?” 

“No,” you said quickly, reassuring him. “Not anymore. Not that I’m out of that house. I just… I worry about Charlotte so much. She’s almost 18 and I’ve already told her not to worry about money. I’ll pay for college or a house or whatever she wants to do to get out of there. But still, I feel sick to my stomach every day she’s still in that house. I’ve tried to get her to come here but I think she’s scared of them lashing out.” 

“We’re gonna get her out of there. I promise you that. I’ll make her believe that she has nothing to be afraid of if she comes here. If your parents retaliate, well, she’ll have an entire army of superheros protecting her.”

You sniffled, trying your hardest to slow your crying. You were so exhausted and it was getting difficult for you to stay awake. “Thank you, Bucky. For protecting my sister. For protecting me tonight. Thank you for just…being here.”

He kissed the top of your head as he continued rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I would do anything for you. You’re my entire world, Y/N. I love you so much.” He noticed how exhausted you were. You needed sleep. “Can you try to get some rest for me, baby? I’ll be right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m never leaving.”

“Okay,” you said into his chest, finally allowing your body to succumb to the sleep you desperately needed. 

He held you all night. He held you when you woke up crying from a nightmare. He held you every time you woke up shaking, as the events of your past replayed in your head. Bucky was never going to break his promise to you. As long as he was alive, he would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

[raven-nerd4life]

so your boy gots a theory

So Lenores eyes are pointing to annabel but the gun is pointing away from her so I'm thinking Lenore and annabel are next to each other and the gun is pointing at someone else.

I think annabel is trying to defuse the situation in a panic, I don't think she expected the person to lash out.

So it's maybe passive percy or annabels father

I'll draw a picture so you can see what I mean later

[hairmetal666]

Steve

Asking Eddie to move to Indy with him and Robin is the most natural thing in the world. After Vecna they became SteveandRobinandEddie, so it just made sense to live together.

Everything is perfect.

It changes one night, at their favorite gay bar. He and Eddie nurse a couple of beers at a hightop, while Robin dances with a cute blonde. Steve half-heartedly shimmies along to the Madonna song pumping through the speakers. Eddie watches him vamp to Material Girl with a look in his dark eyes that Steve can't quite read. It's not the usual fondness he's used to from his friend; too dark and too serious. It makes him nervous.

Eddie drains his drink, mouths the word "bathroom," at Steve, then disappears in the crowd.

Steve sips his own beer, letting his attention drift until he finds Robin, still dancing with the blonde, looking like she's having the time of her life. He expects Eddie back at any time, only--ten, fifteen minutes pass with no sign of him.

His eyes start scanning the crowd in earnest, desperately seeking familiar leather and denim and long dark hair. Anxiety builds in his chest, a dull sizzle beneath his skin.

He finally spots a set of leather-clad broad shoulders towards the back of the room. Eddie has one hand braced against the brick wall, pressed up nice and close to someone Steve can't quite make out.

There's bile in Steve's throat, nausea clenching at his stomach. He shouldn't look; he can't tear his eyes away.

The person is revealed in a flash of light from the dance floor. He has an All-American jaw, swoopy dark blond hair, and is wearing a grass green sweater. The closest thing to Indiana golden boy in the place, second only to Steve.

Room suddenly spinning, Steve struggles to catch his breath, but gives up entirely as Eddie closes the remaining distance between himself and the mystery man, sealing their lips in a searing kiss.

Steve watches, feels himself breaking apart piece by piece. He thought--he thought they were something. Becoming something. All their late night talks and casual touches. He'd been working up the courage to make a move for weeks, and now--

Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe Eddie breaks the embrace and gives an embarrassed chuckle before he comes back to Steve, only he doesn't. The kiss ends, sure, but then Eddie is taking the guy's hand, leading him down the hall towards the bathrooms.

Hands clutched in his hair, Steve sinks into a crouch. He pants, huffing like he just ran sprints, can't catch his breath. Tears dance at his lash line, threatening to fall. He can't have a panic attack now, here. Doesn't want Robin to see; doesn't want Eddie--

It's all too small, too tight, too loud, and Steve shoves his way outside. He rounds the building before sinking to the ground, hands shaking.

He waits outside until Robin and Eddie emerge from the club, both flushed and sweaty. He doesn't speak to either of them and they spend the drive in silence.

When they get home, he goes straight to his bedroom.

"Ste--" Robin calls, but he lets the door shut behind him. He doesn't think it slams.

Eddie

Steve hasn't spoken to him in weeks. Not since that night at the bar. When Eddie hooked up with a guy and he's pretty sure Steve knows; pretty sure it's why they're no longer on speaking terms. Eddie keeps meaning to confront him. He really does. It's just--it'll change everything, and his life was finally going okay for once.

He reaches his limit when he joins Steve in the kitchen before work, and the guy literally, visibly flinches away from him. It hits Eddie like being punched in the dick.

"What the fuck, Harrington." Eddie's voice is too loud in the small space.

"S-sorry, I'll just get out of your way." Steve's eyes don't stray from his own hands.

"I hook up with one guy and now can't even bear to touch me?"

"What? Eds that's not--"

"Don't lie to my fucking face."

"I wouldn't. Eddie, please--"

"I can't believe that this is the last vestige of King Steve. Can say you're cool with me, but when you see me do gay shit, you can't hang? Fuck you. I'm done. I'll be gone by the weekend." His voice stays remarkably steady, even though he's pretty sure not even the bat bites hurt this much.

"Christ, Munson, I'm not freaked out cause I saw you do 'gay shit.' I don't care." Steve's looking at him now; his little mouth held tight and mad.

"Like hell you don't. You haven't spoken to me since it happened."

"Not because I'm homophobic, asshole."

That makes Eddie laugh, shrill and mean. "Oh yeah? Then why."

"It doesn't matter." Steve yanks his hand through his hair.

"It does to me."

"Just drop it. You don't have to move out. I don't care who you fuck."

"You can barely stand to look at me!" Eddie shouts; doesn't mean to. "What if I bring someone home, huh? How are you gonna cope with that, knowing I'm fucking a guy in the next room?"

"It should have been me," Steve screams.

Neither of them move in the ringing silence that follows. Eddie's throat is tight.

"Wh-what?" He manages.

"Forget it." Steve turns to go. "Just--forget I said anything."

"Steve." Eddie follows him into their living room. His heart's beating all funny. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing," Steve's face is leached of color; his eyes too bright.

"Please? I want to understand."

Steve laughs a little, looks absolutely miserable. "I saw you. With the guy. And he...he looked like me, right? And I don't understand why I'm not good enough."

Eddie swallows hard. "You don't--you're not--I didn't think you were a choice. For me."

Steve's chin drops, anywhere but on Eddie. "Yeah. Well. Surprise." He doe a pathetic flourish with his hands that clenches at Eddie's heart.

"Ah," is all Eddie can manage. The world is shifting under his feet, tectonic plates realigning as he processes Steve's words.

"It's--it's fine that you don't feel the same way. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to like me, and I--I was trying to get over it. I didn't want to--"

Eddie can't stand to listen to another word. He crosses the distance to Steve. "Shh, sweetheart. It's--just. Stop okay?"

Steve is looking up at him now, doe eyes wide.

He laughs, genuine this time. "Stevie. I've had a crush on you for years. Years. I used to make the guys go with me to Starcourt. I told them it was because I liked seeing King Steve laid low. Really I just liked how you looked in those little shorts." Steve giggles, face blushing such a pretty pink Eddie almost forgets what he's saying.

"It only got worse when I met the kids, with how much they talked about you. And then I met you for real? Pssh," Eddie waves his hand in the air. "Gone. No hope for Eddie Munson when you're--you're so pretty and bitchy and brave and hot, Steve, and I'm the weakest man in Indiana.

"That night. That guy. It was--I'd just overheard you and Robin talking about a cute girl, and I realized that I had to stop doing that to myself, pining over a straight guy who could never see me like I wanted. I decided that I'd try to pick someone up, force myself to see you just as a best friend."

Steve's face falls impassive. "Did it work?" He almost whispers.

"Not even close, baby," Eddie whispers back. "I'm hopeless for you."

[sugar-coat-it]

hiii how are u??

slutty slutty slutty request over here bc that’s the mood

I can’t stop thinking about matty fucking reader rafter a night out with the boys, both a little tipsy and he extremely jealous after another man gave her free drinks.

Spitting FOR SURE, fucking her dumb, def cumplay and restraining orgasm, a bit of pleasure crying? you get the vibes

xoxo

Hiii!! I’m good, I’m so sorry this took so long to get out! <3

YEPPP YES YEAH ABSOLUTELY LOVE LOVE LOVE 

This is NASTYY

CW for alcohol consumption (they’re tipsy, not drunk) and sex, in case anyone considers that dubcon.

Contains: reader being a little bratty, begging for forgiveness, Matty being grumpy and jealous and mean (degradation), unprotected sex, riding into Matty using her like a toy, pleasure crying, orgasm denial, dumbification, pleasure crying, cum play (post-sex fingering), spit play 

WC: ~3k

Matty stares down at the scrap of paper napkin in his hand, roughly pinched between two calloused fingers. His eyes are swimming with coldness, with disdain. It was bad enough that the man at the pub had given you a free drink, but the fact that he’d slipped you his number scrawled on a napkin had him absolutely fuming. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? He was seeing just as red as the wine he’d drank that night.  

“You didn’t take this from him, right?” he asks, his voice low, eerily steady. “No, no, he slipped it in my purse when my back was to him,” you clarify, shaking your head almost frantically.

Your knees are starting to ache from the way you were practically groveling for him, kneeling before him while he was sitting on the couch with his legs unabashedly spread. You knew how pitiful you must look, reaching to smooth your hands over his clothed thighs, tentatively, like you half expect him to bat you away. But he doesn’t, he graciously lets you touch him. His chill-inducing gaze snaps down to you now as he drinks you in, slightly inebriated and begging for penance. Danger is pulsing in your veins.

“Did you want him?” Matty questions, just to see your reaction, to watch the panic seep into your features.

“No, fuck no. Only want you, ’m sorry,” you mumble hurriedly, your cheek smushed into his knee as you look up at him through your mascaraed lashes. 

A low hum of acknowledgment rumbled through Matty’s chest at that, continuing to let you hang all over him while he just stared. After a few beats more of piercing silence, he lowers one of his hands to your chin, splaying his fingers out across your jaw possessively. As pissed off as he was, he was starting to have a little too much fun with this. You were making it too easy.

“Then show me,” he says simply, slightly constricting his fingers around your face, his fingers digging into your skin.

You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble to get up onto the couch, draping your back over the arm of pricy leather. Your breath is hot, uneven as you wait for him to make a move, enticingly inching your legs apart in anticipation of being fucked within an inch of your life. Matty raises his eyebrows at you, not moving a muscle. Embarrassment flushes through your body with uncomfortable warmth as he just chuckles meanly, ripping the napkin in his hand into two and tossing it over his shoulder.

“No, babe. I said show me. Take what you want,” he smirks, casually placing his hands behind his head with a purposeful glace at his lap. 

You whine softly as you realize what he wants. He wants a show as his “apology”, and he’s not going to touch you properly until you give him one. You crawl your way over to him, your head swimming from both the drinks and the way Matty is watching your every movement like he could tear you to pieces, much like the flimsy napkin. You straddle his spread legs, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs, much to his viewing pleasure. He doesn’t have to ask to know how much you actually love being treated this way, he can tell just from a glance at your soaked panties. 

“Go on,” he urges, his voice gravelly, “get me hard.” 

The command sends a pang of desire ricocheting through you, a flutter shooting straight between your legs. You chew at your bottom lip, noting the way his hands stay put behind his head nonchalantly. It only confirms to you that you’ll be doing all of the work tonight. 

 You eye the slight protrusion running down the length of his thigh as you reach for his belt, finding that your exchange has already gotten him semi-hard. Your hands fumble slightly with the buckle, making Matty impatiently click his tongue.

When you finally manage to get his belt undone and his pants unzipped, you slide the palm of your hand over his clothed erection, blinking up at him like you’re begging for approval, but you’re only met with cold, almost unimpressed eyes. He doesn’t offer you the satisfaction of the usual groan you earn when you first touch his dick. He’s being silent on purpose, quietly brewing in his own jealousy. It only makes you more determined to regain his affection as you take him out of the confines of his briefs, Matty watching your every move. You spit into the palm of your hand before starting to stroke him, twisting your wrist just the way he likes it, 

“Y’know, maybe you should call him, babe. Let him come over and watch. He’d love that, wouldn’t he? Fucking wanker…” Matty broods, his jaw clenched tightly.

You just pout your glossed lips at him, doubling your efforts as you go faster, pumping up and down his shaft until he’s rock hard and weeping beads of pearly precum. Matty grunts, his hips jumping slightly as you squeeze your fist around the head of his twitching cock. You feel a spark of pride inside you that you’d managed to draw a sound out of him, only craving more.

“That’s enough,” he says, stopping you while he can still maintain the facade that he’s hardly enjoying himself.

You smile at him with faux innocence, earning you a warning look from your boyfriend who reaches to pinch your thigh in retaliation, murmuring “You’re in no position to be a fuckin’ brat”. You know you’re only winding him up further, and you can’t say you care, because you know what it gets you: bruises in the shapes of Matty’s fingers and not being able to sit down without being sore. But, you oblige, lifting your hips up as you slide your panties to the side, feeling how damp the fabric has grown as you hook your finger into them. 

Eager to prove your loyalty, and just how badly you want him, you waste no time in sinking down onto his cock, grasping one of his shoulders for support while the other holds him at his base. You sigh out, your eyes rolling back as you feel that familiar burn of being split open by him, your mind clouded with sensation. You feel so full of him by the time you’re totally flush with his lap that you can’t help the few pathetic whimpers that spill past your pretty lips. Matty’s breath shudders as you envelope him snugly, gritting his teeth slightly to bite back a growl. He keeps his hands folded stubbornly behind his head, even as you start to bounce on his lap, riding him with vigor. You feel almost dizzy as your eyes squeeze shut, drops of carnal need reverberating through you, licking up your spine like flames.

It isn’t long before you’re getting too spent too quickly, your mind hazy and your thighs burning as your pace becomes more haphazard, stuttered. You whine bitterly, trying to find your rhythm again, but it’s all too much, it feels like your whole body is aching. The tipsy pillow princess in you doesn’t want to do the work anymore, you want to be laid down and railed on his expensive leather couch, damn it.

You restlessly buck your hips through your frustration, your lip caught between your teeth as you try to silently entice Matty into helping you along. He can tell you’re struggling, but his darkened stare says he’ll be doing no such thing until you beg. Any trace of pride has been wiped clean off of your face.

“Matty, please,” you babble breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tightly, “I can’t… need your help.”

Matty scoffs, only now taking his hands out from where he was resting his head to cruely grip your hips, sneering at you like he finds the whole scene pitiful. His blunt nails dig into your skin through your dress, forcing you up and down his shaft harder.

“Can’t follow simple instructions, huh? I swear, you’re drunker on my cock than you are on the drink. It’s pathetic,” he spits, looking you up and down before his gaze settles on where he’s disappearing inside of you. 

You whimper, your walls clamping down on him as you hang onto his every vicious word. Your chest heaves with heavy breaths, tits threatening to spill from your dress with every harsh drop of your hips. He’s losing his patience, not that he has much to begin with when he’s brimming with jealousy. 

“I know you can keep up with me, little minx,” he grumbles before beginning to snap his hips up into you with fervor.

A wail rips from your throat as he hits deep inside you, the tip of his cock dragging against spots that have stars crackling behind your eyelids. The obscene sound of skin on skin fills the room as you do your best to meet his thrusts, your moans echoing off of the walls. He keeps pounding up into you, using your hips for leverage as you hold onto him for dear life. Your head doesn’t feel attached to your body, it’s like you’re floating and Matty’s shoulders are the only thing keeping you on Earth’s solid ground. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ take it, that’s right,” Matty grunts, his pace nearing animalistic. 

Your head lolls back as you do just that: take it. Every upstroke of his hips has you feeling dizzier than the last, the white-hot pleasure coiling in your belly tighter. This version of your Matty is a force to be reckoned with, a force that will bring you to your knees every time.

“I’ve ruined you for anyone else, yeah? Tell me. Tell me I’ve spoiled you,” he drawls as he grabs hold of your jaw.

You do the best you can to respond as he eases your mouth open, his lidded eyes falling to your lips as you mumble.

“Yes, yes. You’ve spoiled me.”

Matty starts to lean in. You know what to do without him even telling you, pliantly sticking out your tongue, a bit of drool spilling past the corners of your mouth. You see a flash of satisfaction cross his expression at how obedient you’re being. He gathers his saliva before pointedly spitting onto your tongue. Involuntarily, you let out a guttural moan, your hips bucking forward as fizzling heat explodes under your skin. Matty grunts as you clench around him, your velvety walls clamping down on him while you mewl. You’re a fucking mess, and that’s just how he likes you.

 You eagerly swallow his spit without missing a beat while Matty’s hips continue to piston up into you relentlessly. You’re teetering on the edge and Matty knows it, he can feel it with every flutter around his cock. He glances at you with narrowed eyes, like he’s daring you to cum without permission, just to see what happens. All he says is a curt:

“Don’t.”

You let out a dejected whimper, weakly bucking in his lap as you can no longer even feign having the coherence to match his pace. Your thoughts are scrambled, only Matty could fuck you so good that you might just forget your own name. It’s all useless information anyway, the only clear thing in your hazy head is Matty. A rough pinch to your nipple through your dress and a whistling sound makes your eyes refocus.

“Oi,” he says between shallow breaths, “stay with me. Want you to look at me when I fill you up.” 

Matty knows how good you’re feeling and how dumb he’s rendering you, but he has a damn point to prove, and that’s that you belong to him. His pace becomes more like harsh jerks as he nears his edge, his thighs flexing hard with the effort of fucking you through his orgasm. He murmurs hurriedly that he’s about to cum before he groans, spilling his load inside of you while maintaining intense eye contact. You feel the flood of warmth as his fingers leave purplish bruises on your hips, his head tilting back against the couch with his jaw slack. A few loose curls stick to his forehead with the glowing sheen of sweat across his body. Your expression twists with lust as you watch him, your cunt throbbing like a second heartbeat at the sight of him. It’s almost painful how badly you want to finish, he hardly ever cums before you when you fuck and the feeling has you squirming with impatience. Maybe you really are spoiled… 

His hips slow to a stop as he sighs out, his cock twitching inside of you before he slowly starts to pull out, lifting you up off of his lap and onto your knees. You whimper at the loss, immediately feeling much too empty. Your eyes snap to his with desperation, your hips rocking into the air as his cum slowly dribbles out down your thighs. His eyes are lazily lidded, a smirk etched on his lips as he watches you, his large hands firmly holding you in place. Your face feels all hot, prickling at the bridge of your nose as frustration bubbles up, threatening to pour from you. You’re tripping over your words as you start to speak, your mouth spewing off faster than your brain as tears brim your eyes.

“Please, please- I’m sorry, Matty. Please? I-I need it,” you hiccup, trembling hands sliding up to the back of his neck.

“Are you fucking crying?” he laughs, yet he still reaches to wipe your tears away tenderly with his thumb. 

You can’t manage to say anything, your legs are still trembling from the force that he’d railed you with. Matty coos at you with pity as you sniffle, it all felt so good but it wasn’t enough. His eyes hold less of a condescending glint now, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the bruises on your hips as if to kiss them better. 

“My poor girl,” he whispers, “such a needy little thing.” 

It’s then that he lets his gaze rake down your body, your dress disheveled and gathered around your waist. He does you the favor of reaching around your back, deft fingers unzipping the fabric and lifting it over your head. It doesn’t do much to satiate the fire under your skin, you still feel as though you’re burning up from the inside. As he’s placing your dress to the side carefully, he catches sight of the way his cum is streaking down your inner thighs. His tongue slides across his plush bottom lip, his eyes twinkling as he’s struck with an idea. 

“Shame. Going to waste like that,” he mentions, his voice low, dripping with implication. 

His hand starts at your knee, skimming upward until he’s collecting the drops of his release on his fingertips. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion as he looks up at you with a smirk, having revealed nothing of the thoughts racing through his dirty mind. He nudges your knees to open wider with his legs before reaching between your thighs, dragging his soiled fingers through your folds. You sigh out at even the slightest contact, his touch sending sparks flying as he brushes against your clit. He spreads his cum across your core, gathering an obscene combination of your arousal on his digits before he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt. You gasp, your hands curling into the dark tresses at the base of his neck. Matty lets out a satisfied hum, beginning to pump his thick fingers in and out of you, crooking them forward skillfully. 

“Please… please, Matty,” you breathe, as if they’re the only two words you know.

Matty shushes you softly, guiding his thumb toward your clit to trace tight circles over it while continuing to push his cum deeper inside of you. He leans in and presses his lips to your pulse point, feeling your heartbeat thrum faster and faster. He mouths over your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin in a way that makes your whole being buzz. Your hips rock into his hand wantonly, desperate for any ounce of pleasure and dizzying friction you can chase. Matty whispers into your skin about how gorgeous you are for him, how perfect you are.

That familiar tightening feeling only heightens as you hurtle towards your climax, your back arching further as you let out a high-pitched cry. You manage to stutter through warning Matty that you’re about to cum, only for him to cut you off mid-word by crushing his lips to yours. You whine into his mouth as he rubs your clit in quicker succession, his fingers thrusting harder, deeper. He’s shoving his tongue into your mouth hungrily the moment your orgasm crashes over you in a euphoric wave, your body writhing and your cunt fluttering. Pornographic wet sounds fill the room along with your muffled sobs being swallowed greedily by his lips. His fingers guide you through the raging storm of your climax as tears of pure relief stream down your cheeks. 

As your orgasm tapers off, he withdraws his digits from within you, holding up a perfect, sticky mixture of you both that’s drenched him to his knuckles. You collapse onto his lap with a dazed moan as he tenderly rubs your lower back, the both of your eyes glued to his hand. You can hardly believe your misty vision as Matty opens his mouth, shamelessly sliding his fingers past his lip as he sucks them clean of your combined essence. Your jaw drops, you’re blushing to your roots by the time he pulls them out with a soft popping sound.

“Shit,” he groans, “we taste heavenly.” 

He just smirks at the astonished look on your face, inching his face close enough to yours that you can feel his hot breath fanning across your lips. He knows exactly how crazy he’s driving you.

“You want to try?” he asks, tempting you with a raise of his eyebrow.

Wordlessly, you press your lips to his, your eyes fluttering shut as you push your tongue into his mouth to taste the muskiness. You both let out mirrored, shuddering sighs as your tongues meld together in a searing kiss. You’re both panting by the time you pull away, mutually stealing the others breath straight from their lungs. He’s right, you’ve never tasted anything so luscious. 

“... I might need another taste… just to be sure,” you giggle dreamily, your head tilting enticingly. 

And who is he to deny you?

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Written in the Stars

Dieter Bravo X OFC ||| Completed Oneshot

Series Summary: Dieter and Natalia receive an unexpected phone call that results in an emotional journey and an expansion of their little family.

Word Count: 16.6K

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health and emotional trauma. Brief mentions of suicide/death, child neglect/mistreatment, and infertility. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. Daddy Dieter comes with his own warnings. This fic is meant to raise foster care and mental health awareness.

✨Note: This can be read as a standalone fic. However, it is an extra for Destiny & Deliverance, which takes a deeper dive into events that are mentioned in the Epilogue.

EXTRAS ||| TEASERS ||| VIBES ||| MAIN MASTERLIST

Chapter Quote: “I’ve always wanted a miniature version of myself.”  

It was 9:37 AM on a Monday morning. I had just sat down in the conference room with some of our foundation's biggest donors to discuss plans for a non-profit community and resource center geared toward providing counseling and mental health treatment for low-income families. My hope was to secure additional funding for the project. I was admittedly nervous because these donations would be the deciding factor on if this pursuit was even possible at the present time. We had just made it past the pleasantries when Dieter stuck his head through the door. He looked around wild-eyed as he took in the room before finally focusing on my surprised face that was staring back at him. He cleared his throat, before pushing the door open further and stepping inside, “Talia, I’m s-sorry to interrupt, but can I borrow you for a minute?”  

I spoke through a tight smile, “Dieter, I’m a little busy right now…”  

He was almost vibrating from anxiety as the look on his face shifted to something resembling…panic, “I know, I’m really sorry…b-but we have a minor emergency that needs attention…like now.”  

My brows furrowed as I took in his expression, “Okaaay…” I replied with confusion etched on my face as I turned toward our guests, “Please excuse us for a minute.” I gave them a nervous smile, moving to follow Dieter out into the hallway. As soon as the conference room door closed behind us, I puffed air out of my cheeks, then asked him what was going on. He rubbed both hands over his face before meeting my eyes. 

“I don’t even know…where to start…with this.” He let out a shaky breath before continuing.  

“Amber, from CDSS (California Department of Social Services), just called. You know Luca…that I mentor in the after-school program?” 

I nodded, completely unsure of where this was going.  

“His mom, she uhhh…” His brows drew down together and his face tightened, like he was fighting back emotion, “Her neighbor found her early this morning…she’s…gone. They need a temporary emergency foster for Luca.” 

I sucked in a stuttered breath. That certainly was not the news I was expecting. I shook my head in shock, “What does that mean? What are you saying?” 

Dieter rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked up at me through his lashes, “I know we never made a decision on potentially becoming foster parents, or even adopting…” 

Realization crossed my face, Dieter wanted us to be the emergency foster, “Dieter…this is a big fucking deal…where are we gonna put a kid? We don’t have any kid…stuff.” 

“I-I know it is…I mean, I’m sure he has his own stuff…” 

My face softened, realizing now that he really wanted this, “Dieter, this isn't a dog. It’s a whole fucking human…and not even a baby. He’s gonna have feelings, emotions, and…trauma. That’s a lot to take on.”  

He sighed, “I-I know…I don’t think there’s anyone more equipped to handle trauma than us though…and I’m the only person he knows. If we don’t take him, he’s gonna go to the foster facility or be placed with a random family. I can’t let that happen...he’ll be terrified.”  

I fisted my fingers through the top of my hair as I stared at him. “It’s temporary?” I asked. Dieter nodded. “Are you gonna be able to handle that? Will you be able to handle giving him up?” 

He nodded again, “As long as I go into it knowing that’s the plan, then yes…I c-can handle it.”  

I wasn’t completely convinced with that answer. This was one of the reasons we hadn’t gone forward with being foster parents. Dieter had been doing so well the last few years, but this was certainly something that could trigger a manic episode for him. He had a hard time with loss, but he did have an equally strong desire to help others in need.    

“And what if they can’t find another place for him to go? What if it’s not temporary?” 

He let out a controlled breath, “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”  

I had to look away from him for a moment, my eyes roamed over the light gray colored walls of the hallway we stood in. Both of our emotions were running high, and I wasn’t really sure how to handle this being dumped on us out of the blue, especially right now.   

I rubbed at the tension forming at the bridge of my nose, “When do they need to know something?” 

Dieter grimaced, “Like, now.” 

“Fuck. Why did this have to happen now…during this meeting…” 

I reached to rub at my shoulder as my chest tightened, my heart now beating double time. I hadn’t had a panic attack in a very long time, but I suddenly felt like I was about to. Dieter immediately noticed and grabbed my hand, cradling it between both of his large ones and brought it to his lips. I could already feel my heart rate slowing at his touch. After all this time, he was still my anchor. 

“I mean, we don’t even have time to discuss it? Think it through?” I asked. 

He stared at me with his large brown eyes as he shook his head, “Unfortunately, no. They have to figure out what to do with him if we can’t take him.”  

I was reluctant as my mind raced through all the possible outcomes of this situation - trying to determine if this was something we could handle if it ended badly. We had been through so much already in our attempts to expand our family, I didn’t know how much more we could take if things took an unexpected turn.  

I had concerns about taking in a child that wasn’t our own. It was the reason we had stalled on starting the adoption process. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to form any type of meaningful bond having not given birth to them myself and I was afraid of being a bad parent because of that. Dieter and I had discussed all of these things, and he knew why I was hesitant. Dr. Rosenberg, our psychiatrist, had assured me that all of these feelings were normal when considering adopting, so that had relieved some of my anxiety. However, I was now worried the same thing would happen if we became foster parents. The fear was amplified knowing that the situation was temporary, making it even harder on us emotionally. I knew I would inevitably put-up walls to protect myself.  

I managed to push my feelings aside and to think of Dieter. I wanted to try for him because I knew that he had bonded with Luca since becoming part of his life. Dieter was right, Luca would be terrified being with strangers and I wasn’t sure I could live with that either. Especially knowing that we could keep it from happening. I had only met Luca briefly, in passing, but I had heard everything about him from Dieter. He sounded like a sweet kid.  

Thinking further, I realized this may only be for a few days. Surely Luca had other family that would be willing to take him in, right? We could handle a few days. However, if it stretched on beyond that, we might have a problem. Dieter interrupted my racing thoughts by placing his hands on my shoulders and dipping his head to meet my gaze, “Tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.” 

I sighed, and peered up at him through my lashes, “You know what’s going on in my mind…we’ve already talked about it all…and…I worry about you, obviously.”  

He gave me a small smile, “Baby, I promise, I’ll be fine. I know I can do this.” 

My eyes roamed over his face as I read his expression, there was so much conviction behind his words this time that it erased any concerns I had for him. I nodded slowly, “Ok, make the call.” 

His soulful eyes lit up with a wide smile that broke across his face, “Really? You’re sure?”  

I inhaled deeply and nodded, now in shock over what we had just agreed to do. Dieter pulled me in for a tight hug, mumbling into the top of my hair that this was a good thing. When I stepped away, I suddenly remembered that I had a room full of very important people waiting for me.  

I huffed out a breath, “Fuck…what about this meeting?”  

Dieter’s eyes widened, “Umm, well…I think they just needed to know if we could take him right away. Go finish the meeting and we can head over to get him after. How long do you think it’ll be? Like an hour?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, unless they laugh me out of there before that.”  

His brow furrowed before he started rubbing the upper part of my arms, “Hey, relax. You’ve got this. I can come in and charm them if you need me to?” He gave me his goofy lop-sided grin.  

I snorted out a laugh. He always knew the right thing to say to lift my mood.  

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary, but I’ll keep that in mind if I need reinforcements.”  

Dieter chuckled, leaning down to give me a quick kiss before I turned to go back into the conference room. Everyone immediately snapped to attention as I walked in, a few inquiring if everything was ok. The only response I could muster was, “I hope so,” followed by a nervous laugh. 

It wasn’t my best presentation. I was distracted by all the thoughts swirling in my head, which was making it hard for me to focus. I managed to make it through everything though. Everyone seemed excited about the project and pledged more funding than we were asking for, which was a huge relief. At least that was one less thing I could stop worrying about. After everyone said their goodbyes, they all filed out the door to walk toward the lobby. I followed behind them, until I reached Dieter’s office door to find him looking down at his phone as he paced around the room.  

Once Dieter realized I was standing in the doorway, his head snapped up. He looked at me with wide eyes, “Well?” 

I smiled, “We’re good. More than good actually.” 

He hissed out a low “Yeeesss” as he punched the air with a fisted hand. He moved toward me, grabbing my wrist to pull me towards him for a hug, “I told you it would go ok.”  

When he pulled away, we looked at each other nervously, knowing what our next task was. 

“What’s the plan?” I asked.  

Dieter gave me a tight smile, “Well, we go down to the CDSS offices and pick him up. Amber said he has some clothes with him and not much else. I guess we’ll have some paperwork to fill out when we get there too.”   

I let out a slow breath, “I still can’t believe we’re doing this…” 

He gave me a serious look, “This is a good thing and you’re gonna be great. Stop getting in your head about it. He’s gonna love you. I mean, he likes me for fuck’s sake. You’ll be fine.”  

I snorted, shaking my head at him as I walked next door to my office to grab my things. We left without telling anyone what was going on. It was too much to explain right now. We were silent as Dieter drove to our destination. He held my hand tightly the whole way, knowing that my mind was racing, my thoughts making me more anxious as we got closer.  

At some point in our journey to expand our family, Dieter had become the source of strength in our relationship, and I had become the one who struggled emotionally. I think a lot of it had to do with the hormone injections I had been taking but knowing that didn’t make it any easier. After a year of no success, I couldn’t do it anymore. The disappointment that came with each negative pregnancy test had become overwhelming and was slowly breaking me down. It had really left a scar on my heart. 

Dieter remained positive throughout the entire ordeal and took such good care of me. He was truly supportive, constantly checking in with me and making me talk through my emotions. We knew this was a possibility before choosing this path and worked to prepare ourselves for it, but that didn’t make it any less disappointing when things didn’t go how we had hoped. The residuals from that experience still hung over us when it came to the topic of expanding our family. I had a nagging fear that things were never going to go our way and I was having a hard time overcoming it. Even now, my brain was making a list of every possible negative outcome and how that could affect us individually and as a couple.  Deep down I knew that wasn’t the way to go into this, but I couldn’t help it.  

Before I knew it, we were pulling into the CDSS parking lot. I was in a daze as I exited the vehicle, quickly moving to Dieter’s side and lacing our fingers back together. When we entered the building, Dieter asked for Amber, then we were led to the room where she was sitting with Luca. She saw us approaching through the glass windows and came out into the hallway to meet us.  

She gave us a sad smile as she greeted us. Dieter wasted no time getting to business. “How’s he doing?” he asked.  

Amber sighed, “It’s hard to tell. I’m not sure if he fully understands what’s going on. He’s sad, but calm. He perked up some when I told him you were coming to pick him up. He had been asking for Dieter since he got here. That’s why I thought to call you guys first.”  

Dieter turned to look at the small boy who had a vacant look in his eyes and a frown on his lips. “Can I go to him?” he asked. 

Dieter’s gaze shifted to Amber, his eyes now pleading. She nodded, stepping aside so he could enter the room. Dieter inhaled deeply, squeezing my hand a little tighter before releasing it. I watched as he approached, kneeling down to Luca’s level as he talked to him in hushed tones. I could see Luca’s bottom lip trembling and his dark eyes rounding before he leaned in and buried his face into Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter rubbed at the back of the boy’s shaggy dark brown locks, hugging him tightly. I couldn’t see Dieter’s face, but I could tell by the tense set of his shoulders that he was fighting back his own emotions.  

Seeing Luca now took me back to the family photos littered throughout our home in Sonoma. He reminded me so much of a younger version of Dieter that it was almost scary. It also tugged at my heartstrings in a way that I didn’t expect. They had more in common than just looks, both having lost their mothers at a very young age. I didn’t know the details yet, but I assumed Luca experienced it in a traumatic way based on Dieter’s reaction. Seeing Dieter with the boy and how they interacted also had me feeling some kind of way. It was clear Luca trusted him and felt comfortable in his presence. It was enough to stifle the negative thoughts that had plagued my mind during the drive over.  

“Did Dieter tell you what happened?” Amber asked.  

I shook my head, still watching through the glass as I answered, “No, we didn’t get into the details. I was doing good just to wrap my head around this even happening.”  

She nodded, “I can understand that. I know it came out of nowhere.” She sighed before continuing, “The neighbor found her this morning. It’s looking like an intentional overdose. She had been like that for a couple days…at least. She did it with Luca there.” 

My head turned, shocked eyes finally meeting Amber’s. “He was with her like that for days?” 

She nodded, “As far as we know. He won’t really talk to us, so it’s a lot of speculation at this point.”  

I felt sick. It was worse than I thought. I couldn’t imagine what the kid was feeling, and I didn’t even know where to start in dealing with it, but Dieter did. He had been in a similar situation once. I felt a streak of panic go through me, worried that this would bring up emotions for Dieter that he might have a hard time with. I had to remind myself that he had successfully processed through that trauma and would hopefully be able to use it in a positive way now.  

Amber continued, “Based on the environment, I would say it wasn’t a good situation for the kid. The place was a mess, there was no food in the house, and he didn’t have a lot of belongings. It’s sad all around.” 

I had to find something to focus on before I got emotional, “He didn’t have a lot of belongings? What does he have?” 

Amber shrugged, “Not a whole lot. Some ill-fitting clothes, that’s about it. Oh, and a stuffed raccoon. He said “Mr. Dieter” got it for him at the zoo and wanted to bring it…but nothing else.”  

My eyes began to sting. Something about that bit of information nearly knocked me over the edge. I sucked in a sharp breath, needing to change the subject. “Do you know of any family yet?” I asked. 

She shook her head, “No, nothing yet. It doesn’t look like she kept in touch with anyone, so it’s gonna take some work to figure it out. We’ll look into the dad’s side as well, obviously…it doesn’t look like she was in touch with any of them either.  

I felt my stomach flutter at the idea that there appeared to be no one to take him. Was that some spark of hope? I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, but I did have a small urge to give this kid a better life.  

Amber drew me from my thoughts, “So, we’re gonna have you guys take him on as a non-relative extended family foster. You have an established relationship with him that can be proven, and it’s documented, so I don’t think it will be an issue. I can prove it’s the best plan of action for him currently while we go through our processes.  

I nodded, agreeing that it seemed like the way to go. She left me to go gather the paperwork for us to fill out. I turned back to the window, now watching Dieter and Luca talking quietly to each other. Luca was hugging his stuffed raccoon as Dieter brushed the boy's wavy hair out of his dark eyes. Luca had a small smile on his face from whatever Dieter had said to him. The moment seemed so private. I almost felt like I was intruding.  

After a few minutes, Dieter’s head turned, his eyes searching for me. When our gazes met, he motioned for me to join them. I was hesitant, not wanting to spoil their moment. I was also unsure of how to act toward this kid. I didn’t know him like Dieter did, and honestly, I felt like an outsider in this situation. I needed to suck it up, there was no avoiding it.  

I took a calming breath before entering the room, moving to sit next to Dieter. Dieter put his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side, “Luca, do you remember meeting Talia? She’s my wife…the one that keeps me in line.”  

Luca let out a quiet laugh, smiling at me as he nodded. “I remember,” he finally said.   

Dieter glanced over at me, “Luca and I were just talking about getting some lunch.” 

A sad smile formed on my lips, there was no telling when the last time was that this kid had a decent meal. “Yeah, we can do that. Luca, is there anywhere you like to eat? We can go wherever you want.” 

Luca shrugged, “I’m not really sure.” 

It hit me then, this kid probably hadn’t eaten out a lot. I felt like an idiot for asking.  

It was Dieter who spoke next, “How about McDonalds? You liked it that one time we went, right?” 

The boy's chocolate eyes lit up, much like Dieter’s often did when he was excited about something. Luca nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion.  

Amber entered the room with a file full of paperwork. I got to work on it while Dieter kept Luca distracted. There was so much information to fill out and releases to sign for background checks and home visits. It was a little overwhelming. Dieter could sense how I was feeling and made the effort to help calm me. As soon as I felt his hand resting on the small of my back, moving in small circles, I was able to relax and focus. He always knew what I needed and when.  

We were at CDSS for at least two hours, if not longer. I felt absolutely exhausted by the time we left, and I’m pretty sure Dieter and Luca were too. I was on information overload and starting to stress about everything that needed to be done. I was already making a mental list about things Luca would need for school and everyday use. I had never shopped for a boy his age, so it was putting me in a bit of a tizzy.  

As soon as we were in the car, Dieter reached for my hand, “Baby, relax. Everything on that running list in your head doesn’t have to be done today…and I can help you with some of it you know.”  

My lips tugged upward. He knew me too well. “I know…but you know I can’t help myself.”  

As Dieter drove toward the fast food restaurant, I noticed his eyes flicking to the rear view mirror every so often, I assumed to keep an eye on Luca. I too turned to glance back at the boy a few times. Every time I did so, he was staring out the window with his chin propped on his hand. He didn’t look particularly distressed or upset. I wasn’t sure if he had fully grasped what was happening yet. He seemed way too at ease, or maybe that was just because he was with Dieter?    

Once we got into the drive-thru line, Dieter turned to ask Luca what he wanted. He shrugged as his eyebrows rose and disappeared behind his shaggy hair.  

Dieter glanced at me with an arched eyebrow and pursed lips. My brows furrowed. I could already tell this was going to take some adjustments.  

“Chicken nuggets or a burger?” Dieter finally asked.  

“Nuggets.” Luca replied.  

“Chocolate or Vanilla shake?” Dieter followed up.  

“What’s better?” Luca asked.  

“Chocolate…Duh.” Dieter replied. 

Luca giggled, “Chocolate then.”  

I felt like they had had many conversations like this. I loved that Dieter knew how to communicate with Luca in a way that got answers and didn’t cause frustration. I had a feeling a lot of adults probably couldn’t handle that. Here I was taking mental notes for future reference.  

When we got to the drive-thru window, the worker immediately recognized Dieter. It caused a bit of a ruckus as several other workers came over and asked to take a selfie with him. Luca seemed completely unfazed by it. I wondered if this had happened often while he was out doing things with Dieter.  

Once we finally got our food and were on our way home, I looked over at Dieter, “I assume you haven’t told Elaine or Will yet?” 

He sucked air through his teeth, “Nope.”  

“Do you think paparazzi will be an issue?” 

Dieter shrugged, “I dunno. I think when kids are around, they tend to back off some. I hope anyway...”  

I took a deep breath and dropped my head backward onto the seat. I had a feeling this was going to be more complicated in ways that we couldn’t even fathom yet.  

After we got home, we all sat down at the dining room table and ate our incredibly unhealthy meal. Luca seemed in good spirits, but he mostly sat in silence as he took in his surroundings and devoured his food. He would still smile when Dieter said something funny to him and responded to questions, but that was about it. Afterward, Dieter got Luca’s two small bags out of the car, then we showed him to his room and adjoining bathroom. He seemed in awe over the fact that he would have his own bathroom and a TV in the bedroom. It made me sad that something so common and seemingly not that big of a deal to us, was for him.  

While Dieter worked to get Luca settled in, I raided our toiletry stash to get everything he might need for the time being. I felt so unprepared for this situation, and I hated that feeling. I needed to get everything sorted out as soon as possible or I wasn’t going to be able to relax over it.  

When I returned to Luca’s room, Dieter was getting him tucked into bed because he said he was sleepy and wanted to take a nap. I watched as Dieter showed him how to work the TV and asked what kind of shows he liked to watch. Luca shrugged, commenting that he didn’t have many channels, so he didn’t watch much TV. It was just another reminder of the less than ideal situation he had been in.  

I left them alone after that, allowing Luca time to decompress and fall asleep. To help settle my mind, I took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island and started making lists. Lists of things we needed to do, essentials that Luca would need, school supplies, it almost seemed never ending. In the middle of all that I was googling things because I didn’t know anything about what a boy his age would like. I was also creating carts and adding items for delivery. It was overwhelming to see it all in writing, but it did make me feel better.  

About a half hour later, I could hear Dieter on a call in the living room. It sounded like he was talking to Elaine, his publicist, and Will, his manager - filling them in on the events of the day. After he ended the call, he appeared behind me in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.  

“Will is gonna clear my schedule for the next couple of weeks so I can be around for Luca.” he said into the side of my neck.  

“He may not be here that long,” I reminded him.  

He shrugged, “Then you’ll just have to put up with me being around.” 

I chuckled, “Yes, because that’s just so terrible.” I said sarcastically.  

Dieter reached to grab the notepad sitting on the counter in front of me, looking it over before dropping it back in its place.  

“You don’t have to do all of this today, ya know. Let me help you.”  

I sighed, “Oh, don’t worry. You will be. He’s probably gonna need some more clothes…that might have to be your area. I’ve already got some carts going online for the rest of it.” 

Dieter moved to my side so he could look at me directly, one arm still around my back, “Hey, you’re doing great. The kid likes you, so you can relax.” 

I gave him a weak smile, “How do you know?” 

Dieter smirked, “He said you’re nice…and have pretty hair.”  

I snorted, “He didn’t say that.”  

Dieter nodded, “I swear he did…” He was quiet for a beat, his eyes roaming my face. “How are you feeling about things?” 

I inhaled deeply and held it for a moment, “I don’t know…definitely overwhelmed with everything that needs to be done.” 

His eyes narrowed, “You know that’s not what I’m asking.” 

He’s too damn intuitive, I was totally avoiding the real conversation. “I’m not sure, honestly.” 

“Baby, you need to be open with me. I know what you’re doing…don’t shut yourself off.” 

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Ok, fine… I feel a little disconnected from it…like an outsider. It’s awkward because you already have a bond with him and I’m not really sure how to be part of that. I know he isn’t as comfortable around me either. I can sense it.” 

Dieter pulled me into a hug, “He’s a shy kid on the best day. After you spend a little time with him, he’ll open up. You’ve gotta open up some too though.” 

I nodded. I knew it was true, but also knowing that this was meant to be temporary was making it hard for me to do that. After seeing Luca and what his life must have been like made me realize I could actually get attached to this kid. Even though I had been worried about being able to bond with a child that wasn’t my own, I could feel my maternal instincts kicking in.  

Luca slept most of the day, which left us wondering what exactly he had been through that left him so tired. Dieter and I were in the midst of cooking dinner, trying to decide if we should wake him when he came shuffling down the hallway.  

“Hey hombrecito (little man), you ready to eat some dinner?” Dieter asked. 

Luca nodded as he rubbed at his eyes.  

“Let’s go wash up while Talia gets everything ready, ok?” 

Dieter put his hand on Luca’s shoulder and led him toward the bathroom to wash his hands. By the time they got back dinner was ready. Dieter helped Luca make a small plate while he made his own. Then we all sat down to eat. I noticed Luca didn’t get much food and finished eating quickly.  

“Luca, do you want any more? You didn’t eat much,” I said.  

He looked at me with wide eyes, “Is that allowed?”  

I could feel my heart shattering in my chest as Dieter and I shared a knowing look. It took everything in me to keep the tears at bay as I turned my attention back to the boy.  

“It’s absolutely allowed. You can have as much as you want.”  

His chocolate eyes lit up before murmuring out a quiet “thank you” as he stood from his seat to go refill his plate. Dieter reached over and gave my hand a squeeze before turning his attention to Luca, realizing the boy was too short to reach everything. He moved to help him. I took a moment to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I could already tell this whole experience was going to have a huge impact on me, emotionally.     

After dinner, we took the time to show Luca around the rest of the house and officially introduce him to Moony, our kangaroo eared dog, and our four foster pups. Dieter had recently converted one of the spare rooms downstairs into a “dog room” for the pups to hang out in while we were out of the house. It was the most ostentatious dog space I had ever seen. He had gone so far as to install a TV (on their level) and get a Dog TV subscription for them. They each had their own little dog houses and beds. He had even found a place to buy dog furniture. He finished it all off with wireless cameras that allowed him to talk to the dogs when he wasn’t in the room. It was beyond extra, but typical Dieter.  

Luca was in awe of the space and thought the mini dog couches were the funniest thing. He and Dieter went to sit on the floor in the middle of the room to get acquainted with everyone. The foster dogs were just happy to see people. Moony held back, slinking around the room sniffing in Luca’s direction. He was more cautious of the new person in his house, but he eventually approached the boy for pets. Within minutes, he was in Luca’s lap being cuddled, both of them smiling as they nuzzled against each other. I could already tell they were going to be fast friends.  

In the days that followed, Luca continued to remain quiet and reserved. However, I could tell he was beginning to relax as he got used to his surroundings and new routine. He was at his happiest when spending time with Dieter. Dieter had been spending all of his free time with the boy - painting, playing video games, playing with Moony. Anything he could think of doing that might distract Luca from the reality of his situation. I could often hear them laughing amongst themselves. It warmed my heart to see Dieter take on this new role and how he thrived in it.  

Dieter was so good with Luca, and I knew a lot of it had to do with their commonalities. Dieter had lost his mother under equally devastating circumstances, which helped him relate to Luca in a way that I would never be able to. It further solidified the bond they had already built before this life changing incident happened to Luca. It did make me worry about how things would go if Luca was unable to stay with us. I worried if Dieter could handle it.  

The conditions left me torn in how I wanted to handle things as well. I was still feeling like an outsider in this situation and unsure of how to navigate the changing dynamics in our household. I wanted to engage and be part of the bond they were building, but I also didn’t want to get too close in the event the situation was indeed temporary, as we were told it would be. I knew I would need to be strong for Dieter if Luca wasn’t able to stay with us. He said he could handle it but seeing them together didn’t give me a lot of confidence in his belief.  

As we got into the second week of having Luca with us, I noticed he seemed to be getting more curious about me. During the first instance, we were all sitting around the living room watching TV as I folded laundry. Luca was on the floor, playing with Moony. Once Moony ran out of energy and laid down for a nap, I realized Luca was watching me fold. After several minutes, he came closer, sitting in front of me.  

“Can I help?” he asked timidly.  

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. He was too adorable. I glanced toward Dieter, who was watching us with a smirk on his face.  

“Better watch it hombrecito (little man), she’s super picky about the folding.”  

Luca’s eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe Dieter said such a thing.  

I snorted, “Just because I don’t wad them up and stuff them in a random drawer doesn’t mean I’m picky.” I gave Luca a conspiratorial look, “He’s just messy. Don’t listen to him.”  

Luca laughed, “Yeah, he kinda is.”  

Dieter scoffed dramatically and I cackled. Luca’s comment had taken me off guard.  

“I see how it is, you two are ganging up on me now. I don’t like this,” Dieter said. 

Luca and I laughed, eventually settling down as I continued folding. Luca watched me fold a couple more items, then reached into the basket to grab a piece of clothing and got to work. He held it up to ask me if it was correct. He had folded it perfectly on the first try. Dieter and I both praised him, noting that he already folds better than Dieter, which led to more giggles from the boy as he worked on the next item. We worked in silence after that, listening to whatever TV show Dieter was watching. I noticed Dieter wasn’t paying much attention to the show though. Instead, he was watching Luca and I with a small smile on his lips. Once all of the laundry was folded, Luca offered to put his own clothes away himself. When he returned, he looked smug, seemingly proud of himself as he sat down next to Dieter on the couch. Dieter pulled the boy into his side and mussed his hair, thanking him for helping me.  

In the days that followed, Luca began checking in with me to see if he could help with anything. I started giving him small tasks like sweeping, vacuuming, helping carry the dishes to the kitchen, or pulling ingredients for meals. It was his way of trying to connect with me, and I accepted it. 

Toward the end of the second week, Dieter and I were lying in bed, barely awake after having spent the day clothes shopping with Luca. We were both absolutely spent from trying to get things sorted for Luca and caring for him throughout the week on top of dealing with home checks, interviews with CDSS, and getting our background checks completed. We had been so engrossed with taking care of the boy that we really hadn’t made any time for each other. Our only time together was at night, but we had been so tired since Luca came into our care that we hadn’t even taken advantage of it. On this night, we managed to get in some cuddle time before either of us fell asleep. After crawling into bed behind me and pulling me flush against his body, Dieter took the opportunity to check in with me to see how I was feeling about things.  

“It seems like Luca is warming up to you a bit…” 

I smiled, “Yeah, I think so too. His personality is starting to shine through a little more. I can tell he’s been spending too much time with you.”  

Dieter chuckled, “I’ve always wanted a miniature version of myself.”  

I snorted and nudged my shoulder backward against his, “You’re so ridiculous.”   

He laughed, but then it trailed off into a moment of silence before he spoke again. 

“Serious question…how are you feeling about things now? Better I hope?”  

I sighed. I was still holding back some, and I knew it. “I’m still a little apprehensive about things. I’m trying not to get attached to this kid. This was never meant to be permanent, remember?”  

Dieter went quiet for a beat, “That may be true, but that doesn’t mean we can’t care for him like he’s ours…show him what a healthy family dynamic is like. He’s never had that, and I know there’s a possibility that he may never get it again if he leaves us. I want him to have at least one positive experience to look back on, even if it does turn out to be a short one.” 

Dieter always had an interesting take on things like this. I knew it was rooted in his childhood experiences and everything he had gone through. I hadn’t thought about it like that and couldn’t disagree, “I hadn’t considered that view on things.” I finally admitted to him.  

I turned to face him, “You have such a good heart. I can’t disagree with that assessment and…I’ll try to do better by him.”  

Dieter leaned down and gently kissed me on the lips, before pulling back. “You have a good heart too, you just have to learn to open it up a little more.” 

I chuckled, “Yeah, I guess so.”  

His hand gently brushed my hair back, “Maybe you two should go do something fun on your own. I know he’s been wanting to go to the Aquarium.” 

My eyes widened, “Dieter, I dunno about that. It helps to have you as a buffer.”  

He snickered, “You’ll be fine. The kid likes you and I’m certain you won’t be able to get him to shut up if he’s looking at animals. He gets so excited; he can’t help but to ask a million questions. You should take him on Saturday. I’ve got some work stuff I need to take care of.” 

My brows furrowed, “Work stuff? What work stuff?”  

He was fighting a smile now, “I have some scripts I need to look over.” 

I pursed my lips, “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”  

He smiled against my lips, kissing me between words, “It’s late. Time for bed bella durmiente (sleeping beauty).”  

I scoffed as he snuggled in next to me, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Change the subject. I’m on to you.”  

He laughed against my shoulder, “I’d like you to be, but I’m too fucking tired to be able to do anything about it.”  

I snorted, “Again, you’re ridiculous. Good night.”  

After giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, we wrapped up in each other and fell asleep quickly. 

That Saturday, I took Luca to the Aquarium as Dieter suggested. There was a comfortable silence between us during the ride there, however his bright-eyed look told me he was excited. It didn’t take long once we were inside for him to start peppering me with questions as Dieter said he would. He was an inquisitive little thing that had a serious thirst for knowledge. He was enthusiastic but also very well behaved. He seemed mature for his age when compared to the other kids running amok around the facility. Realizing that made me appreciate him a little more.  

Luca took the time to sit and observe the animals, studying each of them carefully. Whereas, most of the other kids gave them a quick glance, then were ready to move on to the next thing. Something about his curiosity made my heart flutter. Was it pride? I realized it was something that he and I had in common. I made a mental note of that for future reference.  

It seemed like hardly any time had passed as we slowly moved between exhibits, chatting about the animals. As the morning went on, I could tell he was getting more comfortable with me. He had started to gently tug on my hand to get my attention or loop his arm around mine and lean into my side as he pointed things out.  

By the time we reached the halfway point where the little cafe was, it was well past lunch time. Luca reluctantly agreed to take a break so we could grab a bite to eat. As we waited in line, I asked him what he wanted. He gave me that same wide-eyed stare he gave Dieter at McDonalds the first day. I gave him a few options off the menu as I had watched Dieter do. We finally narrowed it down to loaded nachos and a chocolate chip cookie.  

Luca got quiet after we were seated to eat. He didn’t seem to have a problem with companionable silence. He was a lot like Dieter and me in that way. It never failed to astonish me how well this kid fit into our lives. It was like the ‘powers that be’ had taken a piece from each of us to make him and put him in our path. Luca drew me out of my thoughts with a question that stunned me.  

“Are you and Mr. Dieter gonna be my new parents?” he asked with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

I nearly choked on the chip I had just stuck in my mouth. I wasn’t expecting this type of conversation today. I took a quick drink of my soda, “Did Dieter tell you that?” 

He shook his head, “No. I didn’t ask him because Mr. Dieter says you’re the boss.” 

I chuckled, “Well, at least he knows his place.” I took a deep breath, my brows furrowing as I thought through a response.  

“Is that something you would want to happen? For us to be your parents.”  

He nodded enthusiastically as he chomped down on a nacho.  

I gave him a sad smile, “You understand what that would mean right? That you would stay with us, forever.” 

He nodded again, “I like staying with you. You’re nice to me.”  

Of all the reasons he could have given, it was because we’re nice to him. My heart was breaking as I considered what those words meant. Was his mother not nice to him? I knew they were low income and struggled with basic needs, but this added a whole other layer to things.  

I could feel the tears beginning to pool in my eyes and I had to work to fight them back.  

I gave him another sad smile, “The decision isn’t up to us, bud…but I promise you…if it’s an option, we’ll do everything in our power to make it happen. If that’s what you truly want.”  

He was smiling now, “It is. I would like that.” 

My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I couldn't believe he had just asked me that. He obviously felt comfortable enough around me now to bring it up, which made me feel a whole other set of emotions. I was drawn from my thoughts by my buzzing phone in my pocket. It was from Dieter. 

Dieter: Hey! How’s it going? 

I smiled to myself. It was sweet that he was checking in. I glanced up at Luca who was leaning back in his seat, with his hand on his belly like he had eaten too much.  

“Dieter’s asking how it’s going. You wanna send him a picture?” 

Luca smiled and nodded before standing to walk over next to my seat. He leaned in against me and gave a toothy smile while I snapped a selfie of us. I showed him the picture and he gave a nod of approval as he moved back to his seat. With a smile, I sent it to Dieter. He started typing a response immediately. 

Dieter: Wow. Looks like some progress. You guys having fun?  

Me: Yeah, we are. Just finishing up with a late lunch. You were right, he has a lot of questions. 

Dieter: LOL! I’ll see you guys in a few hours then. I expect you still have a while. Let me know when you're heading this way and I’ll get dinner started. - te amo (love you) 

Me: Sounds like a plan. - te amo 

Luca and I went back to viewing the exhibits after that. He seemed to have a little more pep in his step during the second half of the day and he was still just as inquisitive about everything. After another hour and a half, we finally made it to the gift shop.  

“Go find yourself something to take home,” I said to him. His eyes widened at my words. He seemed very unsure of himself.  

“Like what?” he finally asked.  

“Whatever you wanna get.” He pursed his lips, still seeming unsure. “A toy maybe? I’m not sure what you like. You’re allowed to wander around and look if you want.”   

He shuffled down the nearest aisle, slowly scanning the shelves. He eventually ended up standing in front of a wall of books and began thumbing through them. He finally settled on an age-appropriate book on prehistoric fish. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that he chose a book, but I was. He walked over and shyly handed it to me.  

“Is this one, ok?” he asked quietly. 

I gave him a bright smile and nodded, “Of course! Do you like to read?”  

He shrugged, “I’m not that good yet, but I like books.” 

I ruffled his hair, “Don’t worry, we’ll have you reading everything in no time. Dieter and I love to read too.” 

He gave me a toothy grin as I leaned down to whisper to him conspiratorially, “Ya know, I don’t count books as a strike against your purchase limit. Go grab you something else.” 

His eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing before he scurried off to find another item. I followed behind him, watching as he continued to take everything in and narrow down his choice. He finally settled on a stuffed otter. We had spent a lot of time watching them in their enclosure, so I wasn’t shocked. They seemed to be one of his favorites. We checked out after that, then made our way to the car.  

As I was sitting in traffic, I could see Luca in my rear view mirror, completely engrossed in his book with his otter hugged under one arm. His chubby little fingers were rubbing at its soft fuzzy fabric in between turning pages. Something about it was absolutely tugging at my heart. I wondered if he even had any books of his own before, or if perhaps he just borrowed them from school.  

“Luca, have you ever been to a bookstore?” I asked suddenly.  

His rounded chocolate eyes met mine in the mirror. His brows furrowed slightly, seeming confused by my question for a moment before answering, “No ma’am. I haven't.”  

A smile tugged at my lips, “Would you like to?”  

He nodded, fighting a smile, “That would be fun.”  

Minutes later, I turned into the local Barnes and Noble parking lot. I was suddenly feeling giddy to share this experience with him because I knew this would be a hobby we could bond over.  

When we entered the store, I grabbed a handheld basket. He gave me a questioning look, “Let’s fill this basket up, kid.”  

He snorted, following closely behind me until I found the correct aisle for him to browse. He seemed to have a thing about dinosaurs, gravitating toward those books first. After flipping through a couple, he eyed me cautiously as he slid one into the basket I was holding. I quirked an eyebrow at the one still in his hand, “You want that one too?”  

He chewed on his lip for a moment before slowly sliding that one into the basket. He looked like he was waiting for me to change my mind. Instead, I gave him a warm smile and encouraged him to keep looking. As we moved down the aisle, I pointed out some of my favorites like Narnia, Goosebumps, and Percy Jackson. He seemed a little intimidated by the chapter books at first, but after I promised that Dieter and I would read those with him it seemed to change his view on it a little and he happily added those to the basket as well. Luca and I got lost in the books together. Not realizing how much time had passed until I got another text from Dieter. 

Dieter: You two doing ok? Figured you’d be on your way back by now.  

Me: Yes! Sorry. We stopped off at the bookstore. About to check out.  

Dieter: K. I’ll get dinner started. See you soon. 😘 (kiss emoji)  

I sighed, “Looks like we’re being summoned for dinner. I think this is probably a good start. You ready to head home?”  

Luca gave me a wide smile and nodded. We made our way to the checkout counter, where I pointed out the bookmarks and told him to grab a couple for his chapter books. He quickly settled on two 3D hologram bookmarks, one with raccoons and the other with a shark. He slid them onto the counter as the cashier began to ring up our purchases. He stood beside me quietly, looking at all the little trinkets and magazines lining the bottom of the counter.  

I gave him a quick smile before glancing up at the cashier, who was watching us intently with a smile on her face.  

“Your son is sweet. He seems to really love books.”’ 

I shook my head slightly, unsure of how to respond to her comment, but also feeling a little choked up at the thought. My eyes darted to Luca who didn’t seem to have noticed the comment. I settled for a smile and nod, “Yeah, he really does.”  

We left the bookstore with several bags full. Both of us were laughing at the ridiculousness of it as we loaded them into the car. He was giggling as he got settled into his seat. It was the same giggle I often heard when he and Dieter were spending time together. It caused a bloom of feelings that I couldn’t describe. Feelings that made me warm and happy. Feelings that I didn’t want to let go.  

A short time later, we pulled into the garage. Luca helped me unload our spoils from the day and lug them into the house. Dieter was standing in front of the stove with a confused look on his face as he watched us carry the bags toward Luca’s room.  

When I returned to the kitchen, he switched off the stove eye and turned to me, “Sooo, what was all that?” 

I smiled, “Books. I need you to go buy a bookshelf for Luca tomorrow. Preferably a full sized one.”  

He chuckled, sliding his hands onto my hips as he leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the mouth, “Thank you for today. Thank you for trying. I know this isn’t easy on you.”  

I smiled against his lips, “Strangely enough, it’s not as hard as I thought it would be. Thank you for pushing me.” 

Luca came wandering into the kitchen, swinging his arms dramatically as he walked. He stopped in front of us, peering up at me with a shy smile, “Mrs. Talia, will you read with me after dinner?”  

I could feel Dieter smiling against my cheek as I turned to look at the boy, “Of course! We both will. How about you and Dieter go pick out a book while I finish up with dinner?”  

Luca smiled brightly, grabbing Dieter’s hand and tugging on it, “You heard her. Let’s go!” 

Dieter snorted, giving me one last quick kiss on the cheek before Luca pulled him down the hallway. I smiled to myself, suddenly feeling overly emotional. A few tears slipped out as I turned my back toward the direction they had gone. Things were going to be different after today. I knew that. I could already feel it. I didn’t want to give this kid up. I wanted him to be ours. Dieter hadn’t explicitly said that, but I could tell he felt the same way. If they did find family to take him in, letting him go was going to be hard on the both of us. I had been worried about Dieter being able to handle it, but now I questioned if I could.  

The following Monday, Luca was set to return to school. He seemed totally fine with it, but I was a bundle of nerves. I was worried it would be too much for him, too soon, even though he had been handling things without issue. When the alarm went off, Dieter moved to get out of bed, but I stopped him.  

“You sleep in, I’ll take him. I have a million questions about his paperwork. It’ll be easier if I handle it.”  

Dieter snuggled into my side, burying his face in my neck, “You sure? I can still go with you.”  

I turned to face him, scratching at his graying stubble and nuzzling against his nose, “It’s fine, you were up late with your scripts. Get some sleep. I’ll be back shortly.”  

I leaned in to give him a quick kiss, but he deepened it as his hand gripped my hip and pulled me tightly against the hardness in his boxer briefs.  

I smiled against his lips, “Mmmm, hold that thought until I get back.”  

He whined, giving me one last peck before pulling away, “Ok, fine. Hurry back to me, mi amor (my love).”  

His fingers trailed after me as I rolled out of bed, he had his infamous sad puppy look on his face before he buried himself under the blanket to fall back to sleep. I threw on my robe and wandered down the hallway to make sure Luca was awake. The sound of the shower coming from his bathroom told me he was. I headed back to the master suite to make myself presentable while Dieter snored away under his pile of blankets and pillows. Just as I opened the bedroom door to head toward the kitchen to make breakfast, Moony came bursting in. I had to move quickly to grab him before he jumped on the bed and woke Dieter. After shooing him into the hallway, I followed, closing the door behind me. Moony quickly disappeared into Luca’s room, leaving me in peace to make a quick breakfast.  

I was plating our scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches when Luca came skipping into the kitchen with Moony on his heels. He seemed excited to be going back to school, which surprised me. He was eager and ate quickly, occasionally sneaking small pieces of egg to Moony under the table. A habit he had obviously picked up from Dieter.  

Minutes later, we gathered our things, put Moony downstairs in the dog room with the rest of the crew, and headed toward the school. I didn’t really have questions about his paperwork. I might have over dramatized that some. I did, however, want to get as much information as I could about Luca. I knew I would have a ton of questions if given the chance to talk to someone.  

Luckily, Luca’s teacher, Miss Katie, was in the front office waiting for us to arrive. After introducing herself, she sent Luca ahead to class so we could chat.  

She gave me a warm smile as we watched Luca walk down the hallway toward his room, “I was delighted to hear that you and Dieter would be taking Luca in. He’s improved so much since he started spending time with Dieter in the mentoring program. I’m sure he’ll continue to do so now.”   

I shrugged, “Yeah, well, it may not be permanent. We’re still waiting to hear back about other family members.”  

She nodded solemnly, “I didn’t get the impression he had a lot of family.”  

My lips set into a tight line, “Can I ask you about his home life? I don’t know much about it.” 

She pursed her lips, “I mean, you’re his legal guardian now. So, I don’t see why not.”  

She paused briefly and sighed, “I don’t know much, but I don’t think it was good. They were low income…most weekends I sent food home with him to make sure he was covered. I’ve taken him to get a haircut a few times too. He often wore the same clothes several days in a row and came in dirty.”  

Her brows furrowed as she met my gaze, “It just seemed like his mom wasn’t very engaged with him. I always had a hard time getting her to respond, turn in paperwork, or come to meetings. When she did, she seemed distracted and honestly, sort of out of it. She would often leave him at school late. I’m not sure if it was because of work like she said or if she just forgot to get him. From what I’ve heard, she sort of went off the deep end after her husband died in that car accident. I don’t think she was very…present in his life if I’m being honest.” 

Hearing this made my heart ache. How had he turned out to be such a good kid through all that?  

Miss Katie was smiling now, “But like I said, the mentoring program did wonders for him. He really began to come out of his shell after starting that. I know Dieter spent extra time with him…to help with homework. I obviously couldn’t share any details with Dieter at the time, but based on his line of questioning, I think he knew Luca didn’t have a good home life. He always wanted to help with him any way he could.”   

I had to fight back tears. Dieter had been there for this kid more than I had realized. I should have been more involved early on, but it was his thing. I didn’t want to overstep. I never would have guessed this would be the result.  

“Well, while Luca is with us, we’ll definitely be involved with his academics. He’s a smart kid and has a serious thirst for knowledge. It’ll be a top priority. I also just wanna make sure he’s ok. He seems to be handling things too well. I’m not sure if he fully understands what’s happened.”  

She sucked in a deep breath, seeming to think through her response. “At his age, it’s hard to say. I think he probably has an understanding of what death is. What they usually don’t understand is the finality of it…that it’s forever…but, with his father having passed, he may understand it better than most kids his age.”  

I chewed on my lower lip and nodded in understanding, “Is it normal that he seems unbothered by it though? He hasn’t even really mentioned his mother at all…directly anyway.” 

She shrugged, “I’m not sure. Maybe he didn’t really have a strong bond with her. If that’s the case, then maybe not. You never know how trauma will affect a child. Has he seen a therapist or anything like that yet?”  

I shook my head, “Not yet. I’ve been in contact with someone we work closely with. She suggested we give him a little time to adjust before bringing him in…make sure he’s comfortable and feeling safe so that he’s more likely to trust the process and open up.”  

She gave me a warm smile, “Well, he couldn’t have been put with anyone better to help him through it. You guys are doing amazing work. I’m legitimately happy for him…and honestly, I hope he gets to stay with you.” 

I cleared my throat, fighting the tears that were threatening to fill my eyes, “Yeah, me too.” I huffed out a laugh, “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Thank you for chatting with me.” I paused, digging in my bag, “I almost forgot, here’s his updated paperwork. Please call me if he needs anything…or if you do.”  

We said our goodbyes after that. As I got back into the car to head home, I couldn’t help wondering about Luca’s relationship with his mother. It made me sad for him, that he didn’t seem to have had a nurturing figure in his life. More than ever, I wanted to give that to him. I wanted him to have a normal, happy, and loving family. It wasn’t up to me though. I was powerless to make it happen. I had to rely on others to make the choice and I hated it.  

By the time I pulled into the garage, I was feeling needy. I needed to be loved and comforted by my husband. I wanted to feel connected to him. He was the only one that could settle the storm brewing in my thoughts. All of the ‘what ifs’ and possible outcomes were weighing heavily on my heart, causing my chest to feel tight. It was a level of anxiety that I hadn't experienced in some time.  

When I got inside, I went straight to the bedroom. I found Dieter sprawled out on his back in nothing but his black boxer briefs, the covers now shoved off to the side. He was snoring lightly, completely unaware that I had returned. After undressing down to my bra and panties, I crawled into the bed beside him, propping myself up on one elbow and draping my other arm and a leg across him. My hand roamed the width of his broad chest, stirring him from his slumber.  

His eyes blinked open slowly as he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips.  

“Did you get everything figured out?” he asked with a gravelly tone.  

I nodded, not trusting my voice as I moved my hand to cup his cheek. His brows furrowed, his eyes now studying my face, “Everything ok?” 

My lips set into a tight line as I nodded again. I let out a stuttered breath, “I just…need you...I need you to calm my mind.”  

I didn’t have to say another word. Dieter knew what I needed. He knew how to get me out of my head before I spiraled to a place that wasn’t healthy for me to be. The connection that scared us so much in the beginning was now our refuge. It’s how we communicated and grounded each other when things got tough. We had perfected it into our own brand of therapy.  

He leaned forward, kissing me deeply. His hands roaming my body as he gently turned us so that I was on my back allowing him to settle between my thighs.  

His lips moved downward, his breath heating my neck as he spoke against it, “Concéntrate en mí, mi luz. Déjalo ir.” (Focus on me, my light. Let it go.)  

His fingertips trailed down between my breast, my stomach, then dipped under the black lace of my panties, finding their destination at the apex of my thighs and dipping into the slick. His motions elicited a soft moan from my lips, making me forget my worries for the time being. He had me coming undone in no time as his thumb worked the sensitive nub and his fingers curled inside of me, hitting the right spot that he knew so well. I arched up into him, grinding into his hand as he nuzzled his nose against mine, “That’s it baby. Take what you need from me.”  

His darkened eyes peered down into mine, watching the waves of pleasure wash over me as my jaw fell slack and I trembled beneath him. He kissed me sweetly, slowing his movements and allowing me to come down. As I worked to catch my breath, he sat back on his heels, sliding my panties down my legs as he scooted backwards off the bed. He stood to remove his boxer briefs before crawling back to the center of the bed, tucking his thighs underneath mine, then pulling me up to straddle his hips.  

We sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. My fingers combed through his messy curls as his hands explored my body, settling at the center of my back to unhook my bra. I quickly discarded it on the floor with the rest of our clothes. He hugged me tightly against his chest, our mouths now tasting each other as I moved against his hard length. His lips eventually moved downward as I rose up on my knees, sucking one nipple into his mouth with his hand massaging the other. I moaned into the top of his hair as I hugged him against me, feeling the heat of his mouth going straight to my core.  

His hand freed my breast, moving downward to encircle his hard length to notch the head at my entrance. Our gazes locked as I slowly sank down onto him. His jaw went slack once I began rocking my hips and peppering his face with kisses and whispers of “I love you”. He nuzzled his nose against mine, staring deeply into my eyes with an occasional sensual kiss thrown in. This was our therapy, reconnecting with one another in the most intimate way we knew how. Grounding ourselves and mentally resetting to take on our worries together.  

We went on like that for some time, our sweat covered bodies moving as one until we crashed over the edge together. I tightened around him as stars formed behind my eyelids. Dieter whimpered loudly into my mouth as he spilled into me for the first time in two weeks. It had been two weeks too long. We hadn’t gone that long without being intimate since before we were married, which only seemed to make things more intense than normal.  

We sat in silence, trying to catch our breath as we let physical touch do the talking for us. Our hands running through each other’s hair and sliding across damp skin. Dieter’s head lolled backwards, now looking at me with a dazed smile.  

“I missed you. Let’s not wait that long again. I don’t care if I’m half dead at bedtime, make me do it anyway.”  

I chuckled, “Noted. Hopefully it’ll slow down now that things are settled some.”  

He nodded before kissing me deeply, pulling away to rest his forehead against mine.  

“You wanna tell me what’s going on now? It’s talk time,” he said in a low voice. 

I smiled and leaned back slightly, scratching at his scalp as my eyes took in his beautiful face - his chocolate eyes with the newly formed wrinkles around them from his constant smiles, his curved nose that I loved nuzzling against mine, the grays in his scruffy beard that sent me into sensory overload when he rubbed them against my inner thighs. This was my medication. Him. He was the only thing I needed to be calm and talk through my feelings.  

I sighed, “I don’t wanna let him go, Dieter. I want him to be ours…and I’m not sure how I’ll handle any other outcome.”  

I felt his arms tighten around me, “I know, baby. Me too. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll get through it together. Just like we do everything else…” 

The tears were sliding down my cheeks now. His thumbs reached to wipe them away. I sniffled, “You know what he asked me the other day while we were at the aquarium?”  

He shook his head. I felt a smile tugging at my lips from the memory, “He asked if we’re gonna be his new parents. He said that’s what he wanted.” 

Dieter’s eyes pooled with tears, “He really said that?”  

I nodded, “He did. I told him that it’s not up to us, but if that’s what he wanted, we would try if given the option. I didn’t think you would object to that.”  

The tears were sliding down his cheeks now, but he was smiling. It was happy tears. He sighed, “I can’t help thinking that it’s all gonna work out. It’s just a feeling I have.” 

I reached up to wipe his tears away, “Do you ever wonder if all of this was meant to be? If our path was written in the stars from the beginning?” I inhaled a deep breath before continuing, “I mean…at what point does a series of coincidences become something more? We’re we destined to find each other and go through everything that we went through just so Luca could be in our lives? He probably wouldn’t be if things had happened differently. If we hadn't stayed in the same hotel in New York, or if you had lived just a few minutes farther away from me and I didn’t make it to you in time that night?” 

He huffed out a laugh, “I don’t know about any of that…but if our story is written for us…I wouldn’t change a thing because it brought us together. If that was the way it was meant to happen, then so be it…fuck free choice. I have to believe this is gonna go in our favor because everything else has, even if it was a hard path. It just feels right.” 

I gave him a sad smile, “I wish I could be as positive as you are about it, but I can’t get my hopes up. It’ll just crush me that much more if it doesn’t work out.”  

He kissed my forehead, “It’s ok, I have enough positivity about this for the both of us.” He pulled me tight against his chest, dipping his head to kiss my shoulder. “Can we stay like this until pickup time? I have two weeks to make up for.”  

I snorted out a laugh against his neck, “You’re so ridiculous.”  

He shrugged, “I’m sorry, my dick said he’s not done yet.”  

It was then that I realized he was already getting hard again, still nestled inside of me. I leaned back to look at him and was met with a mischievous smile.  

“Jesus Christ, Dieter! Already? Did you take Viagra or something?” I couldn’t hold back my laugh.  

He scoffed, looking offended at my suggestion. “I don’t need that shit. You know better. It's all me, baby. You do it to me.” He buried his face in my neck before inhaling deeply and groaning, “Fuck…you smell amazing. Why does that do things to me?”  

He fell over onto the bed, pulling me with him and setting off a fit of giggles which led into a rather playful round two.  

We did end up spending most of the morning in bed, eventually showering together, then having a late lunch. We both felt reinvigorated and ready to deal with whatever came our way. We needed that time together - time to regroup and share our emotions.  

I realized the disconnected feeling that I was having about the situation had now subsided. I was almost afraid to admit it, but as we picked Luca up from school that day, it felt like we were truly learning to be a family. It still scared me, but part of me also welcomed it. Luca was excited to see both of us there at pickup. The bright smile he gave us as he approached the car was completely worth it.  

We settled into a routine after that. Dieter and I would take turns dropping him off and picking him up from school. Sometimes we would both go when we could. Each night we would help him with his homework then spend some time reading before bed. I could see an improvement in his reading ability over the following weeks. His teacher was also reporting that he was having major improvements with his grades and seemed to be doing well emotionally. On the days he didn’t have a lot of homework, Dieter would teach him Spanish. He was picking it up quicker than me. It was clear, Luca was thriving in his new life. Dieter and I couldn’t have been prouder of him.  

When he wasn’t in school, he was with one of us - going to set with Dieter on his smaller jobs or hanging out with me in the office. He was forever inquisitive about everything happening around him, always full of questions on the drive home.  

Unfortunately, the more time Luca spent with us outside of the house, the more attention it brought from the paparazzi. We always avoided places where they lurked, but they were increasingly showing up in random locations. One late evening, they caught us leaving the office. Initially, they held back, filming from a distance. However, once I got Luca settled into the back seat, a couple of them appeared next to the car. They asked how I was doing. I played along and was polite at first, but then they asked about Luca. “Who is he? Why is he staying with you?” I shut them down, refusing to speak any further as I got into the driver's side to leave.  

A few days later, I was sitting on the couch, scrolling social media when I found some pictures of Dieter and Luca outside of a snow cone shop. The pictures linked to an online publication. Luca’s face was blurred out, but it was still rattling. The images showed Dieter and Luca laughing, Dieter with his arm around Luca’s shoulders as they waited in line, Dieter ruffling the boy's hair…just very mundane things that supported the most ridiculous article title: Does Dieter Bravo Have a Secret Love Child? 

I nearly choked on nothing as I read it. Scrolling further down into the article revealed more pictures of the both of us dropping Luca off at school and the three of us out and about in town. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. I tried not to pay it much attention until shared posts started showing up in my feed, and other articles citing that one as a source. It seemed to be getting out of hand in a matter of hours of the original article being published.  

I sighed, pulling myself up off the couch to go find Dieter. He and Luca were downstairs in the craft room, painting. The sliding glass doors were open, allowing the dogs to chase each other in and out of the house, causing absolute chaos. Yet, they were both engrossed in their painting, completely unaware of the madness. I sidled up to Dieter, rubbing at his shoulder to get his attention. Without stopping his paint strokes, he slid one arm around my waist and pulled me into his side, hugging me to him in silence.  

“Dieter, I need to show you something.”  

He nodded, still focused on his canvas. “OK, so show me.”  

I held my phone up in front of his face. His eyes widened as he took in the article title, the paint brush slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, splattering blue paint everywhere.  

“What the fuck?!?! Seriously?!?!”  

Luca paused, now turning to look at us. “What’s wrong?” he asked with eyes as wide as Dieter’s. Dieter burst out laughing as he realized what they were insinuating. “The bullshit they come up with…that one takes the cake.”  

I huffed, “Aren’t you concerned that’s gonna cause a frenzy though? They’ve already started bugging us.”  

He sighed, “That’s a good point…I have an interview scheduled for Friday. Maybe I can address it then? Or Maybe Elaine can do a press release? I dunno… I’ll call her tonight.” 

Luca was still watching us, wide-eyed. Dieter smiled at him, “It’s nothing hombrecito. Just the paps posting crazy stories about us.”  

Luca rolled his eyes and turned back around to work on his painting of what I assumed was Moony.  

Dieter grabbed my ass and squeezed gently, “Don’t worry about it, mi estrella (my star). I’ll take care of it.”  

He planted a juicy kiss on my lips. As he pulled away, Moony grabbed the paint brush he had dropped and took off outside. We watched in horror as two of the foster pups proceeded to try and grab it from him, getting blue paint all over their faces in the process.  

I snorted, “You’re cleaning that mess up.”  

Luca laughed loudly as Dieter dropped his head and slumped his shoulders in defeat.  

True to his word, Dieter did take care of the rumors. He addressed it during his interview, which was meant to focus on one of his new film projects. I tuned in to watch, nervous over how it would go.  

The interviewer opened by addressing the gossip head on, asking if it was true that he had a secret love child. Dieter laughed at the ridiculousness of it before diving into his response.  

“The short answer is no, I do not. I believe I was pretty open about being snipped before Talia and I got married. So, I’m not really sure how anyone came to that particular conclusion.”  

Then the interviewer asked, “And the long answer?” 

His demeanor changed, a genuine smile spreading across his face now. “We do have a young gentleman staying with us right now. He’s a minor, so I’m not gonna share any details…but I can say that I worked with him through the mentoring program that our foundation funds through the local school system. He’s found himself in an unfortunate situation and needed a place to go. So, we’ve opened our home to him until things get figured out.”  

“So, it’s temporary then?”  

Dieter shrugged, “That’s what they’re telling us for now, but we’ll see.” 

The interviewer gave him a warm smile, “Well, I hope things turn out the way you want them to. Thanks for sharing that with us. I know it’s been a hot topic the last few days. Now, let’s move on to your next film…”  

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. That seemed like it went well. My phone buzzed. It was Elaine.  

Elaine: Don’t worry. He answered it perfectly. That should calm things down. It’ll probably even translate to more (positive) press for him too.  

Me: Thanks. That helps calm my nerves some.  

Elaine: I know. 😏 (smirk emoji) 

I chuckled. She knew me too well.  

Things did settle down with the paparazzi after that. Thankfully. However, there was still a black cloud hanging over us. We were waiting for the call that would change everything. It had been two months since Luca had first come to stay with us. I had only received the occasional text thus far to say there were no updates. However, on this day, my phone lit up with an incoming call from Amber. My heart immediately started hammering in my chest out of fear of what news she would bring. I hesitated, but finally answered.  

“Hey Talia, it’s Amber. I wanted to give you a call to share the latest. We got a lead on an aunt…his dad’s sister. We’re working to track her down. It’s the only thing we’ve got so far though. I’m not sure how promising it is.” 

My mouth had gone dry, I almost couldn’t speak, “That’s…great news.” It sounded forced and disingenuous.  

I wasn’t sure if Amber picked up on it or not. If she did, she didn’t let on, “How’s he doing? Things still going well? We’re getting good reports from the school.”  

I cleared my throat, “Yeah, he’s doing great. He seems like he’s adjusted well.”  

“That’s good. You guys are doing a good job with him. Keep up the work. I’ll give you a call when I hear something new. Talk to you soon.” 

I had to force a “goodbye” out as I disconnected the call. This wasn’t the news that I wanted, and I dreaded sharing it with Dieter.  

Dieter took the news about like I thought he would. His optimistic attitude was beginning to wane. Having the uncertainty of everything hanging over our heads made it hard to enjoy our time together as a family. Every time my cell phone rang, it took us out of the moment and raised our anxiety to max levels. We hadn’t told Luca about the latest development, deciding that we wanted him to enjoy his time with us with as little worry as possible. He deserved that much.  

About three and a half months into Luca’s time with us, we were all in the dining room. I was cleaning up after dinner while Dieter helped Luca with his math homework, or rather, Luca was teaching Dieter how to do his math homework because Dieter wasn’t following. We were laughing at Dieter’s tirade about how ridiculous math is when my phone rang.  

I saw Amber’s name flash across my phone. My expression must have given it away because Dieter’s words trailed off as he gave me a worried look. I gave him a tight smile before stepping outside onto the deck to take the call.  

“Hey Amber, how are you?” I asked, trying to sound chipper and happy to talk to her.  

“Hey Talia! I’m good. How is everyone on your end?” 

I nodded as I responded, “G-Good. We’re all good here…” It didn’t sound very convincing.  

I could hear the smile in her voice, “That's great to hear. So, I’ll get to the point…After checking everything out, it looks like it’s all hinging on the aunt. There are no surviving grandparents and there doesn’t appear to be any other close relatives. We’re still trying to locate the aunt, but I’m gonna be honest…based on some of the feedback we’ve gotten, she may not be fit to take him even if she wants to. If that’s the case, then the next step is Luca becoming available for adoption.”  

I was quiet for a moment, processing her words. I was feeling both excitement and fear with this news. There was still a chance that someone else could get him, but we were one step closer. Amber interrupted my thoughts, “Is that something you think you guys might be interested in at this point? Adopting him? You get first dibs since he’s already with you.” 

I inhaled deeply, “Ummm…” Dieter caught my eye through the window. He was still sitting with Luca at the table, but watching me intently, looking for any sign as to what was happening with our conversation. “Yes, we want to. More than anything…but…I do have some concerns.”  

Amber was quiet for a moment, “Such as?” 

I let out a stuttered breath, “Will our mental health history be an issue? I don’t want to start this if there’s no chance…” 

Amber cut me off, “No, no. Absolutely not. You guys have been good for a while now. You’re both doing great, and you make a point to take care of yourselves in that regard…and it gives you a hand up in dealing with Luca’s trauma too. As long as your doctor supports and signs off on it, it’s a non-issue.”  

I sighed in relief. This was something that had been at the back of my mind that I was afraid to acknowledge, but it seemed like it was reaching the point where I needed to.  

“That’s good to hear. That gives me some hope then…but I don’t wanna get my hopes up either.”  

“I understand that. It’s not an easy situation. Being a foster parent is hard. It takes a strong person to let these kids in, knowing they may ultimately have to let them go and never see them again.” 

I huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, I don’t think I can do this again. As much as I want to, I can’t.”  

“I can’t say I’m surprised by that. I’m happy you tried it though. At least you know what it’s about.”  

“Yeah…me too…” 

We ended the call after that. I was rubbing at my forehead as Dieter walked out onto the deck, silently closing the door behind him.  

“What did she say?” he asked. The look on his face could only be described as a mixture of fear and anguish.  

“They’re still looking for the aunt…but it’s down to her. There are no other options. If she can’t or doesn’t want to take him, then he’ll be available for adoption.”  

You could see the tension leave Dieter’s body as he closed the space between us and pulled me into a tight hug. 

“That’s good news then. We’re one step closer. It’s better than the alternative.” 

I sighed, “Yeah, I guess. You know…I feel kind of shity hoping that no one wants this kid. It’s sad for him. I don’t want him to feel unwanted and like he doesn’t have a family, yet that’s exactly what I’m wishing for. I feel selfish.”  

Dieter pushed some stray hairs back off my face, “That’s not true, mi vida (my life). He’s wanted and he does have a family…doesn’t matter if it’s not by blood. We wanna give him a life and we will…a fulfilling and happy one. That’ll be enough for him. So, wish away. It’s not selfish if we have good intentions.”  

I nodded, fighting back tears. He always knew the right thing to say to calm me.  

We decided to wait until we had more concrete news before we told Luca anything. I knew he had to be curious. He never asked though. We continued through our daily routine, living as a family and falling completely in love with the kid more and more with each passing day. He fit into our life so perfectly and was literally becoming a mini version of Dieter. Seeing them together made my heart feel complete, filling in that last little puzzle piece that I hadn’t even realized was missing.  

Seeing the fatherly side of Dieter was causing me to fall for him even more, which I didn’t realize was possible. The man had so much love to give now that he had opened himself up to it and he had no limits. I loved every version of him, but this one…it was something else.  

About a month later, I was in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast. Dieter had left to drop Luca off at school. I had just watched one of the foster dogs overturn a large bowl of water as they all caused chaos throughout the house, when my phone rang. It was Amber. I felt my stomach drop. I knew this call was going to change everything. It was the call we had been anxiously awaiting while simultaneously hoping it never came.  

As soon as Amber greeted me, I was trying to read her voice. She was giving me nothing as she got into her usual small talk. I finally had to cut her off.  

“Amber, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we cut to the chase? What’s going on?” 

She chuckled, “It’s not rude. I know you guys have been waiting for a while to see how this is gonna go.”  

I laughed nervously, “Yeah, we have.” 

I could hear her take a deep breath before she continued. It immediately set me on edge.  

“Well…depending on how you look at it, I have some good news.” 

That didn’t really tell me anything. In fact, it made me more nervous. “Ok, and that news is…?” 

She was smiling now, “So, we finally got in contact with the aunt. She’s not interested or even able to care for him. Which means you guys can start the process for adoption if you still want that.”  

I couldn’t hold back my tears. It took everything in me to keep from sobbing into the phone. “Yes. Yes, of course we do. I mean, I wanna talk to Luca about it first, but yes…we do.”  

“I thought you might say that. I’ll send the paperwork over this afternoon. I’m here to help you through the process, so let me know if you need anything.”  

I thanked her before disconnecting the call. I stood there in the middle of the kitchen, unable to move in disbelief. The sobs bubbled up from my chest, no longer able to contain them. I was feeling every emotion - excitement, happiness, relief. It was almost too much. Dieter came in from the garage just as I was allowing the emotions to overtake me. He immediately rushed over to me, engulfing me in his arms and pulling me tightly against his chest as he begged me to tell him what was going on. It took me a minute to finally compose myself enough to talk.  

I sniffled, “Amber just called…” 

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, looking like he was about to break as his eyes filled with tears.  

I shook my head, still sniffling, “N-No, it’s good news. The aunt…she didn’t want him. Amber’s sending the adoption paperwork over today.”  

I watched his features shift from distraught to excitement as a brilliant toothy smile spread across his face. His eyes flooded with happy tears as sobs rippled through his body. He pulled me back into a tight embrace mumbling sweet words into my neck. We were elated as realization set in that we were finally going to have a son.  

Dieter and I went to pick Luca up from school together that afternoon. We had decided that we would tell him the news at dinner and ask him how he felt about it. So, when Luca asked from the back seat why we were so smiley, it took everything in us not to say anything just yet. Dieter chuckled, changing the subject without answering him. Instead, he asked Luca what he wanted for dinner.  

He put his finger to his chin, like he was deep in thought, “Hmmm…how about…pizza!”  

Dieter and I laughed at his enthusiasm and agreed that it felt like a pizza night. To Luca’s delight, we stopped to pick up two pizzas on the way home. As we walked inside, I watched Luca go to his room to put his things away. A few minutes later he returned and without a word began preparing the dog's dinner while Dieter assisted. They disappeared downstairs to feed everyone while I pulled out cups and plates for us to eat once they were finished. The way we had settled into our life still amazed me most days and it was hitting me all over again that this would soon be permanent.  

Just as we were finishing up dinner, Dieter was the one to bring up the news. I watched as his fingers began to absentmindedly trace the groove in his glass of water. He was nervous. I reached over and took his other hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.  

“So…Luca, we got some news today that we wanna talk to you about.”  

Luca looked between us, his brown eyes wide and hopeful. Something told me he knew what it was about. He gently pushed his plate away and leaned forward on the table, waiting for Dieter to continue. 

“It looks like we’re gonna be given the opportunity to apply for adoption so that you can stay with us…but we wanna make sure you’re ok with that first.”  

Luca’s brows furrowed, “Does that mean you can be my parents for real?” 

Dieter shot a nervous glance in my direction before looking back at the boy, “Yeah, that means we can be your parents for real. You would be stuck with us, forever.” 

Luca’s eyes filled with tears, “Really? I can stay here?”  

Dieter and I both nodded. Luca launched out of his seat to run around the table and hug us.  

“We still have to go through the process, and it has to be approved by the court, but we’re gonna do everything we can to make it official.” I added. I wanted to make it clear that we still had a process to get through. It didn’t matter though, the prospect of it was enough. We were all a crying mess before it was all said and done. Excited about the news and possibilities.  

Dieter and I worked to get the paperwork started and submitted within days of receiving it. It was a long and arduous process, but we managed it. After eleven months of jumping through all the hoops of paperwork, home visits, check ins, and interviews, we finally got our adoption hearing with the court. The entire family joined us as did many of our close friends. Several representatives from the school and CDSS were in attendance as well to show their support in addition to the numerous letters of support that had been submitted to the court on our behalf. With no dissent or challenges to the adoption, the judge had no issues with approving it. The judge praised us for the work we were doing with Luca and with the community. Everyone broke out into cheers as Dieter pulled Luca and I into his chest for a group hug. We couldn’t have been happier with the outcome.  

As we exited the courthouse, we thanked everyone who came to support us. Luca had a smile on his face through it all, holding on to mine and Dieter’s hands as we walked through the building. It was an emotionally exhausting morning for us, but we were in high spirits as we reached the car, discussing where to go for a celebratory lunch.

Dieter dropped Luca’s hand to reach for the back door to open for him, but Luca, who was still holding my hand tightly in his other one, grabbed Dieter’s wrist, stopping him from opening the door. We both paused, giving him a questioning look. 

“Does this mean I can call you mom and dad now?” he asked in a shy voice as he looked between the two of us.  

Dieter and I glanced at each other, both of us clearly getting emotional all over again as tears pooled in our eyes before kneeling down to Luca and pulling him into a hug. We sat there in silence for a brief time, all of us sniffling like fools.  

“You can call us whatever you want, hombrecito (little man),” Dieter finally said.  

“Within reason,” I added with a chuckle.  

Dieter and Luca snorted as I mussed the boy’s hair. Luca leaned over to Dieter conspiratorially, “I guess mujer mandona (bossy woman) is out of the question then?”  

Dieter’s tea kettle laugh sounded across the parking lot as he shook his head from side to side. I stared at the two of them trying to figure out what was so damn funny.  

Dieter finally sputtered out between chuckles, “I would probably avoid that one, bud.” 

I huffed, looking at Luca, “What did you say?” The only response he gave was to shake his head, still smiling. I looked toward Dieter, “What did he say? Dieter?”   

Dieter laughed harder, refusing to answer me as he continued to shake his head and hold his stomach with his hand.  

“Ok, I see how it is you two...You're on dinner duty tonight for that.” I said as I got into the passenger seat of the car, smiling and shaking my head at them.  

Dieter opened the back door, allowing Luca to plop down before he got into the driver's seat. They were both still chuckling as I gave them some serious side eye. Dieter suddenly gasped loudly, “I have an idea! Let’s head off the gossip columns and make it Instagram official.”  

I arched an eyebrow in his direction, then looked at Luca. He smiled and shrugged, “Sure.” 

Dieter pulled out his phone as Luca scooted forward to lean between the front seats. Dieter squished his cheek against Luca’s and held his arm out to take a picture, but paused, then turned to look at me.  

“Come on mama, you’re gonna be in it too,” he said with a smirk. Luca was smiling at me now too.  

His words and their smiles made my heart flutter in my chest, causing me to feel almost giddy. How could I say no to that? I leaned forward and squished my cheek against Luca’s while Dieter did the same to the other side. All of us gave the camera cheesy smiles as he snapped a few pics. We examined the images and picked the best one, all giving our approval before Dieter went to work.  

Once Dieter made the post, he shoved his phone away and gave me a lopsided grin. I narrowed my eyes at him as I unlocked my phone to check Instagram.  

The post was already racking up likes and comments. It was a cute picture, with an even cuter caption: “Our family just got bigger. It’s Luca Bravo’s gotcha day! Your mama and papa love you, hombrecito!”  

For the first time in months, I felt light and unencumbered. We were finally a family without worry and full of love and happiness. What more could we possibly ask for?  

Dieter’s hand moved to my thigh, squeezing gently as he pulled out onto the main road to be immediately stopped by a red light. He glanced over at me with a mischievous grin.  

“What are you smiling about?” I asked. 

He fought to keep a straight face as he glanced at me for a second time, “Me and Luca want a baby goat.”  

Well…there’s that.  

A/N: Everyone, give a big cheer for Dieter and Talia's one year anniversary! I can't believe it's been a year since I introduced these two to the world. Thank you for all the love and support you have given to them (and me) through it all. I'm sure we will see more of these two at some point. We need to know how Dieter finally ended up with that baby goat that he wanted so badly...

Now that we have learned the details about how Luca came to be in their care and Dieter and Talia's journey to expand their family, does that change your view on the events that come later in the Epilogue? They really have been put through it.

And we got more Daddy Dieter goodness, that's always fun. Doesn't he just make you melt? I think how he handled everything in this oneshot shows just how much he has grown...and how much Talia has too.

I'll stop rambling now. Sound off about your thoughts with a comment or reblog. You know I love to hear them!

Want more Dieter & Talia? Check out their story at the links below:

✨Destiny & Deliverance is where it all started.

✨The Light in the Darkness tells us the story from Dieter's POV. (New chapters coming soon.)

If you would like to be added to the Destiny & Deliverance Universe tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Divider Credits: Reblog/MDNI: @cafekitsune Stars: @saradika

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@hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring  @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs 

@cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury  @missladym1981 

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@annalovesflorida @imdrinkingpedro @sunnytuliptime @pedrostories @dieterbravobrainrotclub

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Latina Reader

Summary: Flashbacks creep into your dreams, causing you to wake up in a panic…it’s a good thing Jake is there to calm you. Jake finds out what happened to you, what happened with your ex, and why you’ve been getting paid off.

Content: Flashbacks(kinda gory), torture, anxiety attack, talks of suicide, some swearing, DV, will end on a happy note.

Word count: 4,019

A/N: While I think you can assume this is a middle eastern place that she was taken/sent to, I didn’t label the people for obvious reasons. Please be mindful of this and really put yourself in her shoes. Next chapter will be a lot less traumatic. I promise 💗 (Please do go back and read the other chapters, this won’t make a lot of sense if you don’t. All linked in my Masterlist!)

Chapter 8

“What were you sent here to do?” The man asks. His dark hair and even darker eyes bare into yours, daring you to speak. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, his mouth and nose covered in a mask.

You’d figured out that he was the leader of the terrorist organization whose weapons you were supposed to bomb. You’d been in their custody for a few days, tied to a pole on the ceiling like a slab of meat in a butcher shop.

They did this to weaken you for torture, you knew that. You’d been trained for this.

“Answer me!” The man yells. When you don’t say anything but stare at him, he nods to a man on your left.

This one compared to the leader, was huge—broad shouldered and muscular even under the loose shirt he wore.

The other man smiles, a whip coming into your view. Before you had time to brace yourself, the whip cracks and slams into your skin.

You seethe in pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of screaming in pain.

Except, when the whip is pulled away from your back, a chunk of flesh follows. You let out a blood curdling scream at that.

“All you have to do is tell us who you were working for,” the Leader tells you. “Your Admiral must’ve told you something.”

“I don’t know anything,” you gritted.

He sighs. “Fine.”

And again, you’re whipped.

Over and over again.

So much so, you could feel the blood trail down your spine and legs.

You knew you’d bleed out before they could get anything out of you. You almost begged for it to happen.

After a week of being whipped and beaten by a wooden so badly it broke, you knew you weren’t making it out alive.

Day after day, the same questions.

“Who do you work for?”

“Why are you here?”

“Where’s your back up?”

And each time, you’d give them nothing. An occasional spit in the Leader’s face but that would result in him slapping you, followed by the larger man’s fists.

By the end of that week, they’d send you to a medic who would treat you, let you heal for a week, and then it would start again.

Two months into it, you began losing hope that you’d ever be found.

Two months in, you were still being tied up to the bar in the ceiling. Occasionally you’d be sat down, given food, only for them to turn you upside down and dunked in water. They’d ripped out your nails, cut your skin, burned your healing back.

And still, nothing from you except for an occasional “fuck you”.

By the end of the third month, you’d come to expect the lashings. You’d come to expect the beatings.

But that last day, you were taken to a clean room. A surgical room. Fear riddled your body, beginning to expect the worst. When a doctor walked in with the Leader and his torturer, you were tied to the bed, your pants pulled down your legs.

“You are leaving,” the Leader tells you. “But not before we leave you with a parting gift.”

His eyes crinkle in what you assumed was him smiling. Behind him, the doctor walks up to you and marks your hip with a blue marker.

“Here is safe,” he tells the torturer.

You hear a machine whir behind him and when he moves, you see the torturer holding a hot stamp. A skull and bones symbol red as a chili pepper is being heated by some sort of portable hot stove.

“No,” you say, quietly at first but louder the closer they get to you. “NO!”

They only laugh. The torturer comes close, before whispering, “This will hurt. Do not move.”

You feel the doctor and the Leader hold your legs in place as the hot stamp finally makes contact with your skin.

You scream, blood curdling and raw. You scream until you can no longer breathe, the scent of burning flesh fills the small room. You feel yourself falling in and out of consciousness, but the doctor wakes you up completely with some smelling salts.

They pull your pants back up before untying you and dragging you out of the room and into a garage before putting a hood on your head. They throw you into the back of a truck before laughing and driving you somewhere.

“You’re lucky we didn’t do more than that with your pants down, girl.” The Leader tells you. “Thank your God we didn’t.”

You only sob. You were sure they were going to kill you. But when they stop and pull you out of the truck, you have to blink when they pull the hood off.

You were in an open field. The sun gloriously kissing your skin and grass whistling in the soft breeze.

They push you to your knees before you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Thank your Admiral for us,” is the last thing they say before shooting up in the air.

It was flare. They shot…a flare.

Instantly, you hear the whirring of a helicopter coming from behind a mountain in front of you. Behind you, the truck doors slam before the two men leave you on your knees, bloodied all over your body, and tears running down your face.

You were going to be okay. You were going to be saved.

So then why did the man’s words echo in your mind?

* * *

“Thank your Admiral for us.”

You woke up with a jolt, someone’s hand was holding yours and you had to fight to free yourself from their grip.

You were sweating, panting for fresh air.

It was just a dream. You’re home, safe.

You tried reasoning with yourself but it was no use. You were panicking, and hard.

Beside you on the floor, Jake sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning to you.

“Hey, did you sleep–”

Jake stops talking when he sees the way you hold your chest, face frozen in panic and breathing rapidly. “What happened?”

“They’re here,” you breathe, staring off into space. “They want me back. They’re gonna kill me this time.”

“Hey, hey,” Jake soothes, squatting beside you. “Breathe.”

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” you sputter. “It’s–oh my god–Jake I can’t–”

“You can,” he tells you. “C’mon, Sweetheart. You’ve got this, just like me.”

He brings one of your hands to his chest, the warm surface clothed in cotton, heart beating under your fingertips. “Feel my heart?”

He grabs your other hand and brings it to your chest, your heart pounding against your hand. “Match my heartbeat, Y/N. You can do it.”

You feel yourself slow down, the world around slowing. Jake’s green eye is the only thing you’re focusing on.

“Count with me,” he goes on. “One.”

“O-one.”

“Two.”

“T-two.”

“Three.”

“Three.”

“Four,” Jake smiles.

“Four,” you smile back.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes, thank you.”

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asks, rubbing the hand on his chest with his thumb.

“Yes,” you tell him, feeling yourself fully relaxed. “It was like a movie.”

“How so?”

“I saw what they did to me in a compilation,” you shudder. “I saw every lashing, every cut, everything.”

“Tell me about it.” Jake’s eyes are soft on you, encouraging you to go on.

“I saw them beat me that first week,” you tell him after a few deep breaths. “They had whipped me and beat me with a wooden bat.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with anger before he nodded for you to go on.

“They-they did that for a month. The next month was the same but this time they let me sit instead of being chained to a bar on the ceiling.” You drop the hand on your chest in your lap, squeezing Jake’s hand in yours.

“They pulled my nails out next and cut my back wounds open again,” you went on. Tears form in your eyes again before you tell him, “The last day of the third month, they branded me. Called it a ‘parting gift’.”

He remembered. The skull and crossbones on your hip.

“They told me to be glad I didn’t get…you know, while my pants were down. That I should thank my God.” You were fully sobbing now. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“They told me to thank my Admiral,” you cried.

Jake let go of your hand before wiping the tears that fell with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“That was the only thing I could focus on when the Navy saved me,” you tell him, tears drying. “‘Why would he say that?’, I asked myself. And then it hit me.”

You look up at Jake again before saying, “I think Simpson knew I was going down. Even after I radioed in that I was.”

Jake’s blood runs cold, he wanted to tell you what he knew but wanted you to tell him what you knew first.

“I think that’s why they paid me off,” you continue, tears long gone now. “They must think I know something.”

“Well do you?” he asks, not able to contain the curiosity anymore.

You nod. “I think the weapons they wanted me to bomb were U.S. made and that’s why they sent me to bomb them.”

“Why do it themselves when they can send one pilot to bomb them?” he adds.

“Exactly,” you agree. “That’s why they wouldn’t let Rooster or Phoenix and Bob come with me. They knew I was going down or dying trying to fight my way out.”

“But why keep you for three months?” he asks.

“Who knows why the Navy does what they do,” you sigh. Changing the subject you tell him, “When I got back, I was so broken–physically and emotionally. Maybe that’s what made me an even bigger target to Nick.”

Jake’s spine straightens at his name. “Why’s that?”

“I was a walking target, I had the look of someone who had been through something horrible.” You shake your head and chuckle. “I was so open to wanting someone to show me love and affection, I fell right into his trap.”

You look at him, watching as Jake’s eyes harden before he asks, “What did he do?”

“He was nice,” you start. “At first he was. Asking if I wanted to talk about what happened, then asking if I needed company. He moved in not even two months into knowing him.”

You scoff, remembering how naive you were.

“Rooster hated him the moment I introduced him to him and Nat,” you continued. “He was a lot like you actually.”

“How so?” Jake asks.

“Nice, a ladies man, handsome…” You look away at that last word.

“That’s why you didn’t trust me at first,” he fills in the blanks.

“Yeah.”

“Do you trust me now?” he asks.

You turn to him, a small glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why?” Jake asks. “If I’m the same as him, why do you trust me?”

“You never made a move to kiss me the first few times you were with me,” you whisper.

* * *

Jake only stared.

That motherfucker tried to kiss you the first few times he saw you? He was ready to pummel that fucker into the ground if it meant you would never see him again.

You must’ve seen the anger in his eyes because he shakes it away and swallows it down. “I’m you trust me.”

“I am too,” you tell him. “I’ve never told anyone that, about what I suspected with the Navy and with Nick.”

“I’m glad you finally got it out,” he tells you. “I really am. It’s good that you talk about what happened to you.”

“What about you?” You ask. “Has something like that happened to you?”

Jake shakes his head, remembering his old weapon system officer. “Not me, but my old back seater.”

“What happened?”

He’d told this story twice in his life. Once at court after everything happened and the second time to Lt. Addams’ parents.

“We were sent to bomb some important buildings in Afghanistan,” he starts. “They held all sorts of jets and weapons that could’ve comprised the U.S. military that were stationed there. So they sent Lieutenant Addams and I—that was my partner’s name.”

He smiles to himself.

“He was my best friend,” he continues. “I grew up with him and we joined the Navy together and then eventually flight school and so on.”

He looks up at you, watching as you listen so intently, you’re practically holding your breath.

“Well, we got into a disagreement,” Jake tells you. “He wanted to take things slow and I wanted to speed up, elimisome time from our arrival time.”

He takes a deep but shaky breath before looking away, down at the hands he held in your lap. He takes his time, caressing each of your knuckles, examining the small scars on your right hand. He flips your hands over to see your smooth palms, coated in light sweat.

“I went faster and didn’t anticipate the upcoming turn,” he goes on. “It was too late. I was too late. I should’ve died but I yelled for him to eject and I thought he was coming with me. But he—”

Jake’s breath hitched in his throat as an angry sob trickled up instead. He blows out a few breaths before looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“He didn’t eject in time.”

“Oh Jake,” you start.

“I should’ve listened to him,” he tells you. Then quietly he adds, “It should’ve been me.”

“Jake,” you start.

He feels your hands let go of his and move to his cheeks, you tilt his head up to face you before saying, “You are exactly where you need to be. If you weren’t here, I’d probably still be dealing with Nick. Or worse.”

Jake’s eyes glisten with tears, hearing you say that means so much to him. Being able to definitely say that he was a hero for you, meant that his mistake with Addams was paid back in full.

Because it may not have been Addams, but it was someone else who needed his help the most.

“You’re exactly the person I needed when I least expected,” you go on. “I know it hasn’t been long but I do think of you as a good friend. Thank you, for everything.”

He smiles up at you. This beautiful woman before him was a fighter, and he damn well deserved to be here—even just for her.

A knock on the door startles you both out of the mini staring contest you were in, making Jake turn in the direction of the front door.

He checks his watch which reads 2:45 AM.

“Who could be here so early in the morning?” He asks.

Before you even get to answer, you both hear pounding on the door. Jake feels you freeze, terror paralyzing you into speechlessness.

“Y/N!” He hears Nick yell. “Get your sorry ass out here! We’re going home.”

“How did he find my house?” Jake asks himself.

“He must’ve followed us home after we left Hard Deck.” You answer.

Jake looks at you, taking your hands in his again. “Go into my room, there’s a box under my bed. The code is 07-12-89. There’s a gun in there, just in case you need to use it.”

“What about you?”

Jake looks at you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. He tries to memorize your eyes, the way your lips pull back when you smile. He brushes a strand of your hair back before smiling at you.

“I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

When Nick pounds on the door again, Jake points for you to be quiet and go to his room. You obey, running as quietly and quickly as you can.

Once Jake is sure you’re safe, he calmly walks to the front door, opening it just as Nick was about to pound on it again.

“Can I help you?” Jake asks.

“Yeah,” Nick says, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s in there.”

“Girlfriend?” Jake pretends to think. “Wait, I thought you were single.”

Nick angrily grunts before adding, “No, she’s confused. She’s sick in the head.”

“Well if that’s the case, she’s definitely not here,” Jake smiles. “I only allow sane people in my house.”

“Then let me in to look for her,” Nick drawls.

“No can do, buddy,” Jake says, blocking Nick when he makes a move to enter the house. “See, I don’t know you and you w already tried to kick my ass earlier today—well, yesterday. So that’s a hard no from me.”

Nick frowns in anger, face contorting into something ungodly. “Let me in. I saw her go into the house.”

Jake’s heart was pounding.

Not because he was scared, but because he was furious. Why can’t this guy just get the hint?

“Dude, even if she was here,” Jake starts. “She doesn’t wanna see you. So, take the hint.”

“Who the hell even are you?” Nick asks, pushing Jake back a bit.

“I’m just a guy who doesn’t like the way you’ve been treating Y/N,” Jake states. “And quite frankly, I don’t want you in my property so get the fuck off my porch and go home.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick seethes. “I want her and only her. So get her out here or I’m burning your house to the ground.”

“Those are some strong words for someone who’s worked really hard to become a pilot,” Jake smiles. “Do you really wanna throw that all away for some girl?”

Nick seems to ponder his words, brows furrowing in thought.

“Because that’s what? Two years of your life down the drain? And for what? A girl who doesn’t even want you?” Jake continues. “Is she really worth it all?”

Nick’s eyes focus on something behind him and Jake doesn’t even need to turn around to know who he’s looking at.

“Y/N,” Nick says. “Let’s go.”

Jake turns around to see you standing there, head held high, body squared, and feet planted. You look like the woman you once were, the one he’d seen pictures of in the Top Gun classroom and halls.

Strong and bold. Confidence radiating from your glossy bronzed skin.

You weren’t scared, and you made sure Jake and Nick knew it.

“I’m not leaving with you,” you say firmly.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?” Nick bellows. “You’re coming home with me and we’re gonna talk about…us.”

“No,” you say, pushing past Jake and squaring up to Nick. “You’re going home and I’m staying here. You’re not good for me.”

“What? And he is?”

“Yes,” you say simply, catching Nick off guard. “He’s good for me. He and my friends, the ones you tried to keep me away from.”

Nick scoffs at that, rolling his eyes.

“What do you want? My apartment? You can have it,” you say, tossing your keys at him. “But what you can’t have is me. I’m done, I’ve been done for a long time, Nick. From the first time you put hands on me, to the last time you did. You will not hurt me again. So get off his porch and go home.”

Nick stares at you incredulously—Jake does too. He knew you’d finally had a breakthrough and was prepared to do anything to get Nick out of your life. Even if that meant standing up for yourself and doing the scariest thing you could ever do.

Confront him.

With a swipe at his face, Nick shakes his head before slapping you across the face. Your head turns but your body doesn’t move.

“You made a mistake,” Nick says darkly.

“No,” you say. “You made a mistake.”

You point behind Nick, where two officers, Bradley, and Natasha stand.

“Goodbye, Nick.”

* * *

2 months later

It’s been a fairly good two months. You’d been living with Jake since that night. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your lonely apartment. And besides, you liked living with Jake.

Every morning since that night, Jake has made a point to leave you notes on the fridge, telling you when to expect him home. Granted, you’d be at work. But it’s the thought that counts.

Nick was kicked out of the Navy and served a few months in jail for the assaults he committed in the week before his arrest. You were also granted a permanent protection order against him.

Life was starting to look up.

You’d been hearing nicely, emotionally at least. You even told your therapist everything you told Jake.

The only thing you worried about now was whether or not Jake was going out on a date on weekends.

You hated to admit it, but I fell for him. And hard.

You didn’t want to, but the way he treated you was so different to what you’d ever experienced, you couldn’t help yourself.

But it seemed like Jake went back to his man-whore ways. You’d be at work and glance over to where he and the rest of the group were to see him all over a new girl each week.

You tried not to let it get to you, but it still did.

You figured you’d use this time to heal yourself—better yourself. You’d get to be as great as you could be so that when—and if—Jake wanted you, you’d be ready.

So now, you’d focus on you. Until the time was right.

Because even though it wasn’t meant to be right now, you knew it was meant to be. Otherwise, why would he leave you flowers and notes everyday? No man who wasn’t fawning over a woman would ever do that.

And yeah, there was a little voice in the back of your head that says maybe he’s just trying to be nice…but why do all that?

Either way, you were doing what was best for you. Because you owed it to yourself to do it.

No matter the outcome.

For now, you would go to work, go to your weekly therapy sessions, and smile at the life you get to live.

But that’s exactly what you get to do.

Live.

* * *

Jake’s date for the week smiled up at him as she attempted to seem hotter than she was. He’d brought her to Hard Deck to meet the group but now, he kinda didn’t want her around.

She smelled too sweet, she laughed a little too loud, and she just felt…wrong.

She wasn’t his Bullseye.

Not his. But his.

You’d just brought over a round of beers and were talking to Natasha when your date tapped on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t drink beer. Can I have a white wine?” She says, rudely snapping at you to hurry. “Chop chop.”

Bradley’s eyes widen and he takes a long swig of his wet before looking at Jake with a wild expression.

“Sure,” you say. Jake watches as you take the beer, glancing his way with a dissatisfied expression.

She’s gonna rip me a new one later.

“Why don’t I get it for you?” Jake suggests. “Just in case.”

“Oh, Jakey,” his date says. “That'd be great. But honestly, we can just leave. This place is dingy and old.”

Behind her, Natasha and Bob’s mouths fall open, Coyote and Payback following suit. Bradley only cackles, making his date turn around in annoyance and Bradley turn around to avoid her gaze.

“So Jakey,” Bradley starts. “Are you leaving or are you staying?”

Jake looks at Bradley, then his date, and lastly you at the bar. You were serving Maverick a beer and smiling at something he said.

You were beautiful tonight. Your hair was curled and half tied up in a white bow, a white linen shirt and jeans your uniform for the night.

As if feeling his eyes on you, your turn just in time to catch him smiling at you before he turns to his date.

“You know what,” he starts. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

Bradley smiles. “Good choice.”

Next part

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me. I had a hard time with this chapter mainly because I wanted it to be sensitive but also raw. So thank you for reading it if you read it. And remember that there’s always someone out there that loves you 💗

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[bau-drabbles]

his apartment was a mess, that was the first thing you noticed. books scattered, glasses all around the table, curtain half closed, it was all very unlike dr spencer reid. he like to organise his things very particularly, but now it had looked as if everything was ran through by car leaving nothing but remains. he had many different lamps on his wall but only one was on. a small golden glow illuminating just how chaotic the room was looking.

but still you enter through, quietly walking across his tiled floors. the air felt thick with tension, as if something wasn't quite right. you knew lately he'd been having a hard time but in typical reid fashion, he had decided to bottle his feelings. and now when it was overflowing, everything around him was going up in flames. he had lashed out on you terribly, and even if you knew he didn't mean it, it still hurt nonetheless.

you walk through the apartment gingerly, your hands delicately skimming the books as you walk by. you heard a shuffle in the other room and your heart drops when you see him. he's in a jumper and some sweats, the nightgown tied loosely around him. he's standing by the window watching the sun set, the sky erupting in different colours of red and orange.

all of it would've been so magical had you not noticed the way his shoulders tense and the way his hands clutching tightly around himself. he fiercely wipes away the fresh tears with the back of his hand, cursing at himself for being so weak. but they still streamed down his reddened face. you hear his erratic breaths, trying to stop himself from having another panic attack and it all but breaks your heart piece by piece.

before you could even say a word, he caught your reflection in the window. with a deep breath he turns around and there you really stand. you set the books on the table and his lip trembles, clamping down his teeth over it so you didn't see how entirely pathetic he was. his locks were displayed all around his forehead. he wasn't sleeping, the bags under his eyes certainly had seen better days.

"you came..." his breath was hitched in his throat, a tear spilling from his eyes and you slowly nodded coming closer. he speaks like he genuinely hadn't expected you, as if you could ever ignore a sad call that came from him no matter what time it was.

seeing him so torn up, it was everything in you not to immediately hug him then and there. but you remain in your place, just looking at the sweet man in front of you. how much sadness and pain he had to carry, burdens that weren't his to hold, fell heavy upon his shoulders. you could see how defeated he had become.

"you called..." your voice is gentle, soothing, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. he looks back down, his reddened cheeks stained with fresh tears. his adam apple bobs in his throat with the words he could sat but nothing comes out. nothing but his voice wavering and breaking down in front of you. his fingers clutches the ends of the desk and his face crumples when he turns back to the window.

"i'm sorry..." he whispers, sniffing as he stares out on the city and its inhabitants. your gaze follows by, walking slowly and softly to him.

"i know, it's okay" you lean against the desk as you occupy the space next to him. you know he'll speak to you when he's ready, you know better than to overwhelm him with what has happened. so your mouth remains closed, you remain simply by his side. not going anywhere unless he said to.

you didn't expect him to come closer, resting his face on your shoulder. his hands cradles a book close to his chest as he takes a deep breath in, his heart slowing down for the first time that night. you can smell his sweet shampoo and his cologne as his hands reaches for yours, holding it within his grasp. your fingers gently smooth over his knuckle tenderly, almost like a mother taking care of her child.

"thank you" his voice is soft, hoarse as he holds your hand tighter. you both just look out of the window, relishing in each others company. knowing words couldn't possibly come close to what you were both feeling. that he was clinging on to your touch just as desperately as you were. that despite what had happened, you'd always be there for him whenever he needed. no matter what.

"you're welcome"

[captain039]

PART 6 WASTELAND HEAT (REDONE)

Cooper Howard(The Ghoul) x reader 

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, AOB dynamics, heat, oral F receiving, smut, swearing, fallout stuff, implied cousin incest, virgin reader, drug usage, needles, plus size reader, sexual assault

Previous part <-

He kisses like a starved man. He has your hands forced above your head and his hips grinding against yours. You’re overwhelmed by everything him, his smell his leather gloves and too clothed body, his leathery lips making yours swollen and achey. He hums softly every now and then as he lets you breathe for a second, chasing air in a rush. One hand has your wrists pinned together above your head while the other is fiddling with the hem of your tank top. Your minds foggy, you’ve forgotten pretty everything right now, all hazy and heat riddled. You struggle to move your hands groaning a little in frustration as his leather covered fingers slide under your tank top and spread over your side. You want to take those damn gloves off, you hate them currently.

“You don’t stop fidgeting I will walk out that door” his warning is a low growl in your ear and you let out a small breath.

“Cooper” you mutter and his eyes snap to yours.

“Gloves” you mumble to him. He smirks slightly removing his hand from under your shirt and holding the tip of his finger to your mouth. You frown and he cocks his head to them. You hesitate but bite down on the tip of the glove and tug, before he moved to the next finger. You tug the glove off with your teeth and he continues his smirk.

“Good girl” he says taking the glove from your mouth and dropping it on the floor. He sits up, back on his knees as he tugs off his other glove and his duster coat, laying them on the floor before staring down at you. You feel like squirming under his gaze before his hands go to your hips. He grips the tops of your shorts, hooking his fingers in and pulling them. You shuffle your hips and lift them up so he can slide them off, not expecting him to slide off your underwear at the same time. You panic a little as he moves your legs to bend before dropping your bottom half clothes on the floor. You can’t cross your legs, not with him between them, your hands were quick to cover yourself though, looking everywhere but him. He lets out a tsked sound and you look to him again. He stares at your hands with slightly raised brows and you gulp. You can feel the heat you’re producing and slick, it makes you embarrassed.

“Omega, my leaving this room still stands” he says with a click of his tongue and your eyes go a little wide. You remove your hands, avoiding eye contact as his eyes stare before he presses himself back against your body. His hand grips your chin to force you to look at him and you do. You stare at his eyes, the little lashes around them too, the feel of him against you. Your need for something you don’t even know how to do or ever experienced. Every time Lucy talked about it sounded so uneventful and meaningless. Not that it had to have meaning but it sounded like most of the time she didn’t enjoy her encounters. You don’t feel him shifting till you feel a finger slide through your slick folds and a gasp leaves your lips.

“Getting in your head sugar” he mutters leaning down to press his lips against yours again. You think back to Ethan and what happened, it makes you tense and press against his chest. You don’t push him away, you grip the shirt he wears, breathe in deeply while he slows his kiss and fingers. He lifts his head frowning and you open and close your mouth a few times.

“I was accepted in the marriage trade, when the raiders came in, a raider named Ethan was supposed to be my husband, we didn’t know they were raiders. He forced his hands on me, his lips too, I don’t-“ you blurt out at the speed of light and watch the his eyes go a little wide. His hand moves from your sex and you let out a whimper.

“No, no please” you beg quietly clenching his shirt. He kisses you a little rougher this time and you sigh in relief at it.

“He didn’t do anything else but that, my father came in and killed him before he could undress me, it was the first time I’d been out of the hospital area too” you say quietly against his lips.

“Please, please I need-“ you don’t know where your begging comes from, the pure need for him to be close, to have him be your entire moment.

“Omega” he says a lowly hand gripping your hip. He flips you suddenly and you almost struggle to move with him as he perches you on his lap, his back against the headboard. You take a small breath hands resting against his clothed chest. You feel the bulge in his pants against your exposed sex and shuffle a little closer to grind yourself against it. His hands instantly grip your hips in a bruising touch and you stop letting out a small sound. You pant softly as his fingers move to the singlet covering your top half. He watched you with eyes like a hawk as you nod a little and he slips your singlet up and over your head. His hands smooth down your sides over the flesh there.

“I’m not hurting you?” You ask and he frowns before raising an eyebrow in question. You glance at yourself, the rolls on your side your chubby belly and thick thighs. He follows your gaze eyes staring hungrily over your flesh before his hands move behind your back to unclasp your bra. You look to the head board instead of his face, your body is flush with a layer of sweat over it, you’ve no doubt soaked his pants from where you sit. You feel his hands slide over your side, thumbs under your breasts before one thumb brushes over your nipple gently. It makes you jolt in surprise and look back to him, seeing him lean forward tongue darting out to twirl around your other nipple while his thumb rubs over the other one. It’s gentle not like what Ethan had done and squeezed harshly, his tongue swirls and flicks before his teeth gently scrap over the sensitive flesh and a small gasp leaves your lips. You glance down to him seeing him staring at you intently again as his full hand covers your breast and gives a gentle knead. He smirks when you make another small noise as he fondles and toys, your hips grind against his hardened cock and you feel a rush of need. You grind a little harder feeling him smirk around your breasts before he leans back.

“Go on” he cocks his head hands leaving your body too. You frown and glance down to his bulge before shuffling back to his thighs. He rests his hands behind his head watching you as you shakily undo his buttons and zip before shuffling his pants down a bit. You move his boxers away and pull him out hearing him sigh quietly, his eyes closing. You stare a little, just like the rest of his body it’s leathery with some ridges, a deeper reddish orange than the rest of him. You swallow silently and shuffle back forward, hips raised, lining him up.

“Easy-“ before he can finish you slowly lower yourself onto him and you whimper. His hands instantly grip your hips and still you and stop you. It’s a stretch and it stings your head hung and your breath leaving you in sharp pants.

“Fuck” he grunts holding you deathly still his tip just in.

“Jesus Christ, omega” he breaths and you let out a small noise in response.

“Sweetheart you gotta prepare yourself” he mutters.

“Sorry” you mutter back.

“Stop fucking apologising” he snarls with a sigh as he lets his bruising grip loosen.

“Just- slowly now” he says and you nod. You slowly lower yourself feeling the stretch, the sting and resistance before your butt meets thigh.

Your minds blank with how full you feel, how warm everything feels. The alpha lets out a low growl from his throat head leaned back.

“Slowly move your hips when you’re ready” he says a little breathlessly and you nod. You grind down on him and let out a small breath before lifting your hips slowly and lowering them. There’s a lot of stinging, and you lean forward a bit, head still hung and rest it against his shoulder. His hand snakes up your back leaving goosebumps in its wake before he massages the back of your neck with his hand.

“I know it hurts sugar” he mutters before he lets out a small chuckle.

“Sort of your own fault” he adds and you whine in response not finding any words to back talk him. His other hand goes to your hip, guiding you to slowly move up and down, and grin against him.

“It’ll feel good” he murmurs as you slowly find a rhythm and the sting begins to fade. Your hands are gripping his shoulders now as you lift your head and find strength to move on your own, the hand on your neck going to your side and squeezing gently. His eyes stare into yours again as you feel yourself quickening briefly then slowing down again, testing how everything feels.

“Fuck” you let out and another rough chuckle leaves him before he hums and guides you to move faster. You feel him inside, roughly gliding against your walls, the feeling of being so full makes you pant and clench slightly.

“Clenching around me already sweetheart” he pants and you nod. Your legs and hips hurt, but you don’t care, tension builds in your stomach like a knot but you can’t find the edge yet. You whine a little frustrated and he moves his hand between you both, two fingers pressing against a sensitive spot before rubbing slowly. You moan eyes closing as you feel your stomach tightening again. His fingers go in time with your hips and you feel yourself clench around him before coming undone. Something snaps inside you, you feel slick going down his cock and between your thighs. He snarls softly, grabs your hips with both hands and holds them up a little before he’s thrusting inside you. The movement makes you moan into his shoulder as he thrusts into you, you feel him swelling and whine softly. You tilt your neck without thought feeling his hot breath against your pulse. He ruts into you, pushing the knot of his cock inside and locking it in. You gasp and pant at the feeling your hips twitching slightly as he rests you back in his lap. He didn’t bite your neck like the teacher said and you feel somewhat unsatisfied by it. You mouth along his neck tasting sweat and dust, his head tilts ever so slightly and you gently scrap your teeth. He moves his hips and you stop with a small moan. You feel exhausted but full, your mind more focused but tired.

“Sleep” he orders and you hum eyes already closed and body sagging against his. You feel him shuffle a bit, hissing softly as he tugs his knot inside you. He reached for the blanket covering the end of the bed, bringing it up around your shoulders and you snuggle in deeper.

Next part ->

[rylem33]

Actions Have Consequences

Jason and Emily had been dating in secret for months, their connection growing deeper with each encounter. Tonight, they’d given in to their desires, and the air was thick with passion.

As Jason’s 22-year-old hands roamed over Emily’s 19-year-old body, she giggled, arching into his touch. “You’re insatiable,” she teased with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Jason smirked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “And you’re such a slut,” he murmured playfully, his tone full of affection.

Emily laughed softly, her eyes glinting with excitement. They both knew it was a joke, a part of their flirtation, and it only served to heighten the tension between them.

But neither of them noticed the faint creak of the floorboards outside the door. Vanessa, Emily’s mother, had come home earlier than expected and was about to call out to her daughter when she heard Jason’s comment. The word “slut” echoed in her mind, sending a wave of cold anger through her.

Vanessa had always been protective of her daughter, and the idea of some boy calling her such a degrading name—even in jest—was too much to bear. She stood frozen in the doorway, her fury bubbling over.

Inside the room, the couple was oblivious to the storm brewing just outside. As they lay tangled together, the door suddenly burst open.

“Emily!” Vanessa’s voice was a sharp crack in the air.

Jason and Emily sprang apart, both scrambling to cover themselves as Vanessa’s eyes flashed with anger. The older woman’s gaze was locked on Jason, who was hastily pulling up his pants.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Vanessa’s voice was low and dangerous, but it was clear she was beyond furious.

“Mrs. Harris, I—” Jason stammered, but Vanessa’s hand shot up, silencing him.

“I heard what you called my daughter,” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “You think it’s funny to call her a slut? To degrade her like that?”

Jason’s eyes widened in horror. “No, it wasn’t like that! It was just a joke!”

“A joke?” Vanessa’s voice was cold as ice. “Let’s see how funny it is when you’re the one being degraded.”

Before either of them could react, Vanessa began to chant in a language Jason didn’t recognize. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, growing thick and oppressive.

Jason’s body suddenly felt like it was on fire. He gasped, his hands flying to his chest as he doubled over in pain. The sensation was unbearable, his muscles burning and stretching as his skin prickled with an unnatural heat.

Emily watched in horror as Jason’s body began to change. His broad chest softened, swelling into full, round breasts that strained against his shirt. His hips flared, his waist cinching in as his legs grew longer and more shapely. His face contorted in pain as his features became more delicate, his hair lengthening into silky waves that cascaded down his back.

Jason’s eyes, now wide and filled with panic, met Emily’s as he tried to speak. But when he opened his mouth, his voice came out as a rough croak, caught between pitches. He tried again, but the sound that emerged wavered, his deep voice cracking awkwardly as it struggled to hold onto its masculine tone.

Vanessa’s chant grew louder, and Jason’s clothing began to shift as well. His once-loose shirt and pants transformed into a tight, revealing outfit that clung to every new curve, emphasizing his now voluptuous figure. The low-cut top barely covered his ample breasts, and the short skirt left little to the imagination.

“Emily… what’s happening to me?” he whispered, his voice pitching higher with each word until it settled into a soft, breathy tone that was unmistakably feminine. The sound of his own voice—now a delicate, almost sultry soprano—sent a shiver through him.

Finally, the transformation stopped, leaving Jason standing in the middle of the room, a perfect picture of feminine allure. His face, once rugged and masculine, was now adorned with pouty lips and long lashes that framed wide, doe-like eyes. His hair was a rich chestnut color, flowing in perfect waves down to his slim waist.

Vanessa’s lips curled into a cold, satisfied smile as she surveyed her handiwork. “Now you know what it feels like,” she said softly. “You wanted to call someone a slut? Well, now you can be one.”

Jason fell to the floor, her legs unable to support her in her shock. She looked up at Vanessa, tears brimming in her eyes as the reality of her situation began to sink in.

Emily rushed to Jason’s side, her own tears falling freely as she knelt beside her transformed boyfriend. “Mom, please, you can’t leave him like this!”

Vanessa’s expression remained hard. “He needs to learn a lesson, Emily. Actions have consequences. Maybe now he’ll think twice before degrading someone else.”

With a final, cold glance at the scene before her, Vanessa turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving Emily alone with the new “Jason.”

Emily knelt beside him, her heart breaking at the sight of her transformed boyfriend. Tears blurred her vision as she reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Jason, I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

She expected to hear Jason sobbing, but instead, she heard something else—soft, almost inaudible moans escaping from his lips. Confused, Emily leaned closer, her hand gently brushing Jason’s cheek. “Jason? Are you okay?”

Jason’s breath hitched, and the moans grew slightly louder, more insistent. Emily’s heart raced as she realized what was happening.

“I… I can’t stop it…” Jason’s voice, now fully feminine, trembled with both fear and an undeniable need. His hands moved to his chest, fingers tracing over the sensitive skin as another moan escaped him. “Emily, help me… I don’t know what’s happening… but it feels so… good.”

Emily’s eyes widened in shock as she realized the extent of her mother’s curse. Jason’s new body wasn’t just feminine—it was hyper-sexualized, designed to crave the attention and desires associated with being a “slut.”

As Jason continued to moan softly, his body reacting to sensations he had never experienced before, Emily could only watch, torn between horror and sympathy.

But then, something shifted in Jason’s eyes—an instinctual panic overtook the pleasure as the reality of his situation crashed down on him. “No… no, this can’t be happening,” he gasped, pushing himself away from Emily. His breaths came in ragged, frantic bursts as he stumbled to his feet, his new curves making him feel unsteady and foreign in his own body.

“Jason, wait!” Emily cried, reaching out to him, but he was already backing away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I can’t… I can’t stay here!” Jason’s voice was high-pitched and desperate, his hands trembling as they clutched at the skimpy outfit that now clung to his altered form. Without another word, Jason turned and bolted from the room and fled down the hallway. Emily rushed after him, but Jason was already out the front door and gone.