#i have been down for like three weeks in a row i really hope next week turns it around

[bucks-babe]

Change My Ways For You

Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader

Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good

Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one

A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!

“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing. 

All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater. 

“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”

You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.” 

He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.

Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet. 

Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.

You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student. 

As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.

Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.

You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.

Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door. 

“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting. 

“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”

He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”

Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants. 

He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.

“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.

The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming. 

 Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.

“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.

“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.

Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.

She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”

He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!

The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself. 

Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder  why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.

“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.

“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”

There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”

As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.

Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.

He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.

The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour  late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?

“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”

“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.

“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second. 

Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.

So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.

Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.

You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull. 

“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.

“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.

Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.

“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.

“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”

“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.

“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”

Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”

“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”

You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”

The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.

“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off. 

“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.

Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”

The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.

Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”

How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was. 

You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”

“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.

“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”

Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall. 

He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.

You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.

Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.

You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.

Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed. 

Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”

You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.

“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”

The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.

You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.

“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you. 

He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom. 

He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.

You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”

Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.

“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”

You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.

The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.

He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him. 

Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.

As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.

 “C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.

“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.

“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.

Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.

You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.

But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips. 

You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”

Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.

Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”

You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.

“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.

You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”

“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.

“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.

“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”

Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face. 

The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”

You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.

You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.

Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.

Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom. 

He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock. 

“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.

Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”

Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.

He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.

He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.

Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.

“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.

At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”

As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”

You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”

Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.

“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.” 

“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.

“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”

If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.” 

“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”

“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.

“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.

Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.

“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet. 

“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.

“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.

“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.

Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.

“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.

“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathy, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.

“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.

“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.

“What?” 

“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.

“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time. 

“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.

You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you. 

The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.

“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt. 

“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.

“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.

“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you. 

“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.

“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.

Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.

You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be. 

 The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.

His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.

Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”

Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”

You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”

You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”

He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.

“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”

Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak your sheets.” 

He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.

His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out before him, consumed by the pleasure he is giving you. 

“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.

When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.

“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”

A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”

Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you. 

Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.

Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.

A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. 

You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.

All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”

You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over the sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.

“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would. Top drawer. I got the good ones.”

You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to your nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”

Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”

Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on the bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were. 

Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.

“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.

“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.

Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.

You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.

“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.

“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.

You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”

That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”

He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words. 

“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed against him new. 

He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together. 

The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.” 

Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.

He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”

Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.

Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.” 

In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.

He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.

Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the high of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.

“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.

Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done. 

The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself. 

“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.

When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.

You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.

Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?

“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.

“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.

“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.

“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.

“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”

Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part eleven

922 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

Tuesday and Wednesday go much the same. Steve doesn’t watch Eddie at lunch anymore. 

That’s where Eddie does most of his staring, though. Steve wonders if Eddie felt like this knowing Steve was watching him. He hopes not. He feels like he’s on fire. In a bad way. 

He can’t help himself but go over everything he did, trying to find where he gave himself away, but he comes up blank. Anything he shared about himself in the notes could’ve been from anyone. 

He didn’t hint at it whenever he actually spoke to Eddie, either. 

The only thing he can think of is that he delivered the notes at the same time every day, barring the one time he was late. Eddie must’ve figured it out; saw him one morning. But he thought of that beforehand, too! The only door unlocked then is the gym door because no other sports or clubs meet that early. If Eddie were there, someone would have seen him. 

Then there’s art class. Steve gets whiplash from all the staring at lunch to business as usual in class; Eddie acts like nothing is out of the ordinary. That is to say, they hardly speak to one another, but when they do they’re friendly. 

Come Thursday. Carol is out sick so Steve has no distraction from the boy next to him. He can’t even try to convince himself he isn’t tuned into Eddie’s every movement. 

That day, the worst thing that could possibly happen, happens.

“Next to you, you’ll find your partner for this month's project. Go ahead and get acquainted, you’ll be spending a lot of time with one another.” 

The person on Eddie‘s left turns away from him to pair up with the person on their other side and Steve's stomach drops. He waits for Eddie to request a new partner, but he just drums his pencil on the table noncommittally. 

Steve would just put them both out of their misery and ask the teacher if he can wait until Carol returns to school, but he doesn’t want Eddie to think he minds being partnered with him, especially if Eddie isn’t going to be the one to interject. 

Steve has no reason to be upset with Eddie and, loath he is to admit it, he’d take any chance to be around him. Even now that he knows Eddie doesn’t want him in the same way. 

That’s another thing that’s been nagging him. Eddie was fine with H before he knew it was Steve - liked him even. Then the staring happened and he took off the ring. 

There’s only one explanation: Eddie doesn’t like Steve. 

You’d never guess it, though, not with the way he turns to him and grins. “Well, would ya look at that.”

Steve smiles hesitantly. “Hey, man.”

The teacher claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, alright.” Once everyone has quieted down, she hands each of those in the front row a stack of paper to distribute to their respective columns. 

“This is the project outline. In a moment, I’ll dismiss you to read through it with your partner. After you’ve done that, you’ll notice there is a brainstorm worksheet on the last page. Now, you only need to complete one of these for the both of you…”

Once she’s done giving directions, Eddie turns to Steve. “Do you wanna read or should I? Or separately?”

Steve doesn’t even have to think about the answer. “You.” There’s not really an option there. Not only does he get to hear Eddie’s voice for a prolonged amount of time, but he doesn’t have to stutter his way through reading, or watch as the words seem to evade him? Yeah, Eddie can read; no hesitation.

Eddie nods and clears his throat before starting. Steve reads along on his paper, and finds it much easier than if he’d had to read it on his own. 

The concept is pretty straight-forward. They’ll each have to make a portrait of themselves and the other, collaborating orally while not seeing the other’s work. Even when they’re finished, they have to turn in the projects without the other seeing. There will be an exhibit in three weeks before they go on spring break where all of the portraits will be displayed.

When Eddie’s finished, they flip to the worksheet. “Okay,” Steve says, “I’ll write since you read.”

Eddie hums his approval and they get started. 

At the end of the hour, the teacher tells them to hang onto their packets and take a moment to schedule time outside of school to meet. There will only be one day a week dedicated to the project at school.

Steve clears his throat. “So, I- uh, I’m free most days. When works best for you?”

Eddie tilts his head to the side. “What, no court activities? Responsibilities?”

Steve hesitates. “You mean basketball? I mean, we practice in the mornings and there’s a game next week, but other than that…” Steve trails off once he catches sight of Eddie’s amused look. “What?” He asks, immediately self-conscious.

Eddie waves him off. “Nothing, nothing.” Steve frowns but Eddie keeps talking. “How about Mondays and Wednesdays, right after school?”

Steve chews on his lip before nodding. “Yeah. Where are we meeting?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, drumming his pencil on the desk again. “Uhh, how about we decide that during class those days?”

“Sounds good.” Steve holds up their project outline/brainstorm worksheet. “I’ll just hang onto this.”

Eddie chuckles. “Honestly, man, that’s probably for the best.”

twelve

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[charliemwrites]

it is my borfday. I am now 20 whole years. So I ask: 1fur1 reaction to readers borfday? I have 1fur1 thoughts but they aren't ready yet... They're still cooking

Happy Borfday!!!!! Two decades 🎉🎉

Okay just for you, bean - I’ll make it a full part too, even. This is very fluffy up until the end when it gets just a hint of spice.

(No human boys in this one, sorry!)

You haven’t said a word about it all week - and why would you? You live alone with three dogs. It’s not like they care that it’s your birthday; or even understand what time is, really. (Except for dinner time of course.)

But the day of your birthday dawns, a little rainy. You let yourself sleep in a bit, mumbling five more minutes three times in a row when Ghost nudges impatiently at your cheek.

Eventually you do get up though, giving each of your boys a crooning “good morning” and laying kisses on their precious heads. You stumble to the kitchen to start your coffee, even pull out the fancy beans you reserve for special occasions. While it’s brewing, you start gearing up the boys for their morning potty. The precipitation is mostly mist right now, but you’d rather them not smell like wet dog.

You’re trying to belt a wiggly, impatient Johnny in when your phone rings. Huffing, you tap at the speaker icon and try to wrestle the stupid hood over his big-ass ears.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” your mom trills through the phone.

At the noise, Johnny thankfully goes still. You finish securing his raincoat and turn to Konig. Thankfully, he’s much more cooperative about getting dressed - even if he takes every opportunity to lick your face.

“Uh, thanks,” you answer. Honestly, you were hoping she’d forget.

“What are you doing today to celebrate? Going out with friends? Maybe a date…?”

You roll your eyes as you finish adjusting Konig’s (custom) raincoat.

“Definitely not. I was just gonna stay in, order some food, drink some wine…”

You haven’t even finished before your mother is protesting.

“No, no, no, you need to do something special! Not every day is your birthday.”

And thank fuck for that, you think, shaking your head.

“It’s not that big a deal,” you insist. The boys crowd as you lead the way to the back door and prop it open. They seem oddly reluctant to leave your side. You assume it’s the rain and shoo them off, your mother still on speaker.

“Well if you won’t do anything, I will.”

“Ma, you really don’t need to—“

“Dinner will be at 6:30. Don’t be late!”

And she hangs up. You groan, run a hand down your face. Well. At least it’s only dinner. You can still do the rest of your plans.

“Boys!” you call, noting that they’re mostly just congregating at the edge of the yard. They instantly return to your side, even Johnny - who has a tendency to make you chase him in the rain.

They each file inside, sit and behave while you remove their raincoats and hang them to dry. As usual, they follow and crowd while you make up your coffee. Add a bit of whiskey just for fun; you won’t need to drive for a while.

The boys climb onto the couch with you, happily arranging themselves in a warm circle. Konig at your back like a living pillow. Johnny on your right, head in your lap. Ghost just in front, pressed against your shins and warming your feet.

You settle in with a contented sigh and sip your coffee. Even put on a show you’ve been meaning to get to.

Midway through the episode, Ghost slips off the couch and slinks off. You notice in the back of your mind, but he tends to be the moodiest of your boys and figure he just wants some alone time.

When he comes back, you hum at him, kissing his muzzle as he takes your other side. As the next episode is loading, Johnny hops down.

“Biiiiig stretch,” you coo, grinning as his back legs extend. He wags, licks your hand in parting, and trots off. You hear the doggy door clatter, figure he didn’t do all his business after all.

About an hour later, the doorbell chimes. You jump, but… the boys are oddly quiet. Usually they’d be rioting that someone dares come to the door. This time, though alert, not so much as a growl.

Put off, you pad to the door and check the peephole. Just a delivery man with a… frankly monstrous bouquet.

You open the door, prepared to tell him that he’s made a mistake. But he says your name and address and tells you happy birthday, gently handing it over.

You blink as he saunters back to the truck, almost don’t notice Ghost standing sentinel right beside you.

“Huh,” you muse, finding him watching you. “Who d’you think ordered me flowers?”

He makes a little “ruff” noise. You snort and close the door. It’s a beautiful arrangement, you must admit. All your favorites. It even came in a vase!

You inhale the sweet scent and sigh, unable to keep from smiling. Usually you think flower arrangements are a bit silly, so expensive for something that will last so little time. But it’s been ages since you last got one and someone clearly put thought into it.

You offer each of the pups a sniff, laughing when Konig sneezes a bit. You set the vase on the kitchen counter where it won’t become a casualty of any enthusiastic tails and you’ll get to look at it regularly. Try to look for a card but there isn’t one.

Hopefully, whoever sent it will reveal themselves by asking if you like it.

You settle on the couch again with a lingering smile, scratching at Ghost’s ears when he presses his face against your shoulder.

Another hour passes in peace when there’s another knock at the door. Again, the dogs stay eerily quiet. This time, you’re greeted with a huge bag of items.

You unpack it on the couch, Johnny sitting by your knee. A new plush blanket, a pretty mug, a video game you’ve heard good things about, the next book on your reading list, your favorite candies, and even an expensive new pair of headphones (since Johnny ruined your last ones).

You let him sniff curiously at each item, amused by his involvement in your gift unwrapping.

“Wow,” you breathe, staring at your pile of gifts. “This is more than I’ve gotten in years. I don’t even know what to do with it all.”

You start by eating some of the candies. Johnny’s tail wags furiously the entire time, even when you remind him that candy is Not For Him.

At some point in all the craziness, Konig’s scurried off somewhere. Not surprising, you figure. All the guests must have made him shy. He’s not a fan of really anyone but you.

Eventually he returns, though, and you’re sure to welcome him back with praises and kisses before he climbs into his spot. You happily return to your show, scratching absently at your snuggly pack.

Just around noon, there’s one last knock at the door. Your favorite takeout place, including a box of the really good German pastries that you never let yourself get more than once every other week. Fresh baked too!

You hum happily as you eat, wishing you knew who to thank for it.

“I feel utterly spoiled,” you laugh as you save the rest of the pastries for later. “I definitely don’t deserve all this.”

A deep bark nearly startles you. Konig. He hardly ever makes a peep!

“Listen to you, baby!” you coo, wiggling your fingers to entice him closer. He comes to your side instantly, chin on your stomach, staring up at you with big mismatched eyes. “Such a lovely voice. Ich liebe dich, Herr Konig.”

He wags happily at you, a big, silly canine grin on his face. When you duck down to hug him, he leaves kisses all over your face and neck.

By evening, you’re in a good enough mood that you’re not completely dreading the visit to your parents’ house. You get dressed, kiss each of your boys goodbye, and leave.

It’s not… bad per se. Sure, your mom makes your sister’s favorite meal, and your dad doesn’t even realize why you’re there at first. Your sister’s husband also keeps making weird comments about you being single and your biological “clock” but—

Well, you’re just there for dinner. At least your mom made homemade cookies; a classic you’ve always enjoyed. But not even that is enough to make you stay longer than absolutely necessary, making your excuses that Konig still gets separation anxiety.

The drive home is long and you feel exhausted from putting on the “grateful daughter” song and dance. When you pull up to the house, though, you perk up when you see another package.

It’s a… basket? You carry it inside, too dark to see what it is on the porch. Immediately greeted by the boys, you don’t get a chance to look at it at first. But once you do…

It’s a self care basket, you think. A ridiculously nice bottle of wine, a bath bomb, body cream, sugar scrub… a bottle of the lube you always use. New lingerie. A toy. Not just any toy either. One you’ve been putting off buying because it’s close to a hundred pounds and you’ve got three big boys to feed.

At first you think it’s your ex but…. No. No, everything in this basket is things you’d pick for yourself. Things he never knew you well enough to buy. And he’s too cheap besides - and too much of a stuck up dick to ever dream of patronizing adult toys.

You hesitate over it. But….. well, you’ve already brought it inside. Doesn’t matter if you use any of it or not; and it’s stupid to let it go to waste.

So you feed the dogs and wander to your room.

And it. Is. Decadent.

You linger in the bathtub for way too long, giggling at the sparkles in the water, sipping wine and nibbling on German pastries. Even sacrificed one of the roses from the bouquet to let the petals float in the water. Start the first couple chapters of your birthday book, sigh and talk nonsense to your boys, all of them lingering in the doorway but behaving.

And when you finally get to bed, you run the battery out achieving your “birthday orgasms”. (Remain shockingly uninterrupted by any of the boys.)

Sometime before midnight your dream of gentle hands cleaning you up, pressing kisses everywhere. Voices whispering “love you” and “happy birthday”.

It’s the best one to date.

(Again, happy borfday!! I love you and I hope this was a good gift 💕)

Main Story | Konig pt.2 | Price pt.1

Masterlist

[mattybsgroupie]

sleepover | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt

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notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk

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i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.

i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”

i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.

“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.

“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”

“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. ���what is it, hm? bad dream?”

“uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.

matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.

“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.

“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.

“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.

“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”

“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”

“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”

“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.

- ♡ -

i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.

“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.

“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.

“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.

“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”

matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”

“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”

“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.

matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.

one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.

matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.

i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.

with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.

“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”

“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.

“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”

“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.

“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.

“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”

“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”

when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.

“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.

i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”

i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.

“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.

“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.

“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.

“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.

i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.

“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.

“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”

“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.

“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.

his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.

i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.

“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.

“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”

“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[tarjapearce]

As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

[darling-i-read-it]

Hi how are you? 😃 May I request some headcanons of RE characters (you choose, i can't choose because I like most of them 😅 ) with a reader who worked 13 days straight and has insomnia so they're pretty much in autopilot or zombie mode at the end of that but are more polite then usual? I hope I don't have to work that many days in a row again 😩

HI yes i can relate as someone who doesn't know how to say no to picking up shifts. my record is only ten days thought, rest in peace my love that sounds HORRIFIC. i chose some guys at random (along with chris and leon, my favorites lol) i hope you enjoy!

Chris Redfield

literally him too

this man has never known a good nights sleep since he was like 21 and even then it was kind of rocky

he has less sympathy because of it. to him it's kind of normal

he works like no one else has ever worked because he cares about his cause. it's a bit hard for him to understand that not everyone does in the case of work

he feels bad seeing you this way though and he knows it

he may have done it before but seeing you go through the zombie nature was affecting him now. you were his person, his safe spot, and you weren't safe

once the sympathy comes it doesn't leave

calls your boss!!!!

on your phone!!!

he's so scary. he's a scary big man. tall. big. large. so large.

they gave you three days off in a row actually

they also mentioned to not have your boyfriend call on your phone again because of professional reasons and it wasn't until then that you knew he even called

you were so out of it you hadn't checked your outgoing calls (and why would you?)

anything he can do to help, he will. just ask it of him.

The two of you sat in front of the TV. His arm was over your shoulder as you leaned against him, more comfortable now than you had been in weeks.

"You hungry?" he questioned, glancing down at you.

"I could eat."

"Anything specific?" You glanced up at him, meeting your eyes. He could read your look. You wanted him to go and get food. He narrowed his eyes, playfully. "It's late."

"I know. I'm being silly."

"Well I didn't say no."

Leon Kennedy

Leon is the most likely on this list to also have some sort of insomnia. He can't even talk against you either because he has the same exact issues

working too much, not sleeping enough

he drinks sometimes till he can't feel the effects of either

so who is he to say that you should go to bed or that working so much was destructive?

despite it being hypocritical, he sees the overall exhaustion within you

you're suddenly quietly polite, you have nothing in you to fight against him, even when he makes his normal banter and you don't return it

that's what really affected him. until you got rest, you could never really be back to him. your polite tired nature made him want to protect you. you were his, he couldn't let you go on like this

he showed up at your work

he didn't chew out your boss, no, he just 'brought you lunch' and then politely demanded that you be given two days off

he may have brought a weapon. it wasn't very good of him but then again, neither was having someone work 13 days straight

you promised him that you would do it for him next time

"What about when you go off to Japan for a month and I know you aren't sleeping?" you questioned. You sat in bed together, eyes heavy, no work in the morning.

"If you were in Japan I couldn't know if you were sleeping either," he pointed out.

"I feel like you would find a way." He smiled, that charming gentle smile. Comforting, homey.

"You're right. I would." You rolled your eyes.

Carlos Oliveira

was a fierce advocate for you taking a day off and is mid contact with your boss

he doesn't care if it was your choice. he really doesn't. he loves but you but damn if he won't let you go through that again

you're so quiet that it scares him sometimes. the life in your eyes is just barely there

he is a bit of a workaholic himself sometimes but he knows how to take breaks. he prides himself in being able to separate himself from that when he can

he tries to lull you to sleep (like you don't know what he's trying to do)

you're stubborn and he knows this and you're also far too tired to admit how tired you actually are

the kind of boyfriend to give you tea and hope it does the trick. to give you massages, make you listen to him talk so much that hopefully you'll fall asleep in his lap

he adores you to pieces. he really does. how can he bear to see you like this?

it's like you're a zombie and not the bad kind. he wanted you to spend the whole day in bed and again, he will call your boss on your behalf, he'll pay for the rent if he can, he doesn't care

he'll do whatever he can to save you from the fate of another awful night like that

His hand massaged your shoulders as you sat together on the couch. You had been silent for a while and although it used to worry him, he was just happy to have you beside him.

"No work tomorrow," he mentioned quietly.

"Don't talk about work," you whispered. He nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"Sorry." You looked at him at your side. "I think I might lock you in the bedroom so you can get some sleep."

"You know that's not how that works," you whispered, though you smiled at the gesture anyway.

"It's how it should work."

Ethan Winters

Ethan understands better than most how hard it can be to let things slide

he knows that working sometimes helps. it helps the silence in his head when all he can focus on is that he's so tired and the has to work

because he understands, he also has a certain degree of protection he has over you

he knows what it feels like to be unable to feel his eyelids anymore because they're so heavy

the very second you have off he demands that you stay inside

he would rather you be laying down and not moving for a while if he could stand it, allowing you to bask in the quietness

he would make you promise him that you would try your hardest to sleep because he thought that once exhaustion came over you it would be too hard not to

he wanted to tell you about how hard it was for him after the Baker house to sleep because he had so many bad memories that he didn't want to relive

he tries to relate to you about that. he wants you to know that sometimes his bed is a demon in and of itself

insists you take time off afterwards. he doesn't care how it happens but you need a day of rest and that's final

"They'll probably need me in sooner," you admitted, quietly. He shook his head over dinner. He had made it for you that night, happily, some of your favorite foods.

"Two days minimum," he said.

"You're not my boss Ethan," you told him honestly but he shook his head. He was having none of it.

"You should quit."

"I know. But I can't."

"I know," he hummed, shaking his head. "Two days. Two. In a row."

[guitarstringed-scars]

the ravens eye diner- hajime iwazumi

masterlist

table for four

hajime was 2 days into his master plan of never seeing you again. it was going…rough. his mind had already adjusted to his new routine of running to the little diner and getting a cup of coffee. but he would be fine, he barely knew you. only knowing things like your name, and snippets of your personality he learned from stories you told as you refilled his coffee cup, or jokes you’d tell about the other customers.

but he wanted to know everything about you. your go-to coffee order, how many freckles you have, what your favorite color is, even your last name would be nice. he shakes these thoughts from his head.

he has no right to even wonder, because he was just a customer who happened to sit in your section. you probably haven’t even thought of him since he left. but why can’t he stop thinking about you?

“why have your runs been taking so long lately?”

hajimes head snaps up to see his roommate, toru oikawa. fuck he’s been caught.

“what are you talking about?” he asks, trying to cover.

“well, usually you’re back by 7:15 at the latest, and i use your door slamming as an alarm. but lately you haven’t been getting back until like 7:40.” toru rattles off, leaning against the doorframe.

“just been taking a longer route.” hajime dismisses him. ”doesn’t sound like you iwa…” toru sounds extremely suspicious.

hajime rolls his eyes.

“is that all you wanted from me?” he asks, turning back to his paper.

“no, i was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with mattsun, makki, and i.”

hajime thinks for a moment. he is hungry. but does he really want to sit through his friends nagging? he decides it’ll be worth it.

“fine.” he stands up, stretching his legs. makki and mattsun already sit in the shared living room.

“where should we go?” mattsun asks, scrolling through restaurants on his phone. makki sits next to him doing the same thing.

“theres a diner just a few blocks away, it looks pretty good.” makki muses.

“oh i would kill for a stack of pancakes right now.” toru groans.

hajime freezes. he hopes there is a different diner a few blocks away that he just never noticed.

“sounds good, what’s it called?” mattsun asks.

“um…” makki scrolls to the name. “the ravens eye diner.” well shit.

“oh, i’ve heard of them, their food is apparently really good.” mattsun says.

“okay, let’s go!” toru cheers.

hajime wants to die. at this point he knows there is no way that he can convince them all of a different restaurant, especially with torus heart dead set on pancakes. it’s okay, theres like a 25% chance that you are working, maybe less.

so, the party of 4 treks out into the great outdoors, and take the brief walk to the ravens eye diner. he’s greeted by the oh so familiar sound of the whir from the coffee machine, and the familiar face of the blonde hostess. hajime hides himself behind the other three men. sure he’s acting a bit childish, but he feels a bit embarrassed.

“hello! how many today?” she asks.

“table for four please!” toru says, smiling at the girl. she picks up the familiar menus, and as she looks up, hajime makes accidental eye contact with her. her eyes widen. that can’t be a good sign, he thinks.

she leads the group to the same table hajime sat at 4 days in a row last week. the table in the corner by the window. he takes the seat closest to the window, and everyone files in around him. the quartet goes quiet for a bit as they scan over the drink menu. hajime already knows what he’s getting, and he knows whats coming. the server.

much to his dismay, he is greeted by a smiling face. your smiling face.

“oh hi hajime! been a while!” you greet. he feels the confused stares of his friends on him.

“hi y/n, uh just a-”

“black coffee?”

“yeah, thanks.” he looks down at the table, ignoring their gazes.

“and for the rest of you?”

hajime doesn’t listen as the other three rattle off their drink orders. he’s too focused on the fact his head might explode because of how red he is.

he listens to the click of your shoes as you leave the table, and he knows he’s about to get attacked.

“how come you never mentioned you’ve been here before???” toru jumps in immediately.

“or that you knew the cute waitress!” mattsun adds, tagging on.

hajime just sits with his blushing face in his hands while his friends bombard him with questions. thankfully, they can’t pester him for long before you are back with a tray propped up on your arm, handing off their drinks. you set down hajimes hot coffee carefully in front of him, just like you’ve done the last 3 times.

“i’ll give you a few more minutes with the menu.” you say, waltzing off with your tray.

hajime wishes you would stay at the table forever. so he’d be protected from his friends nagging. what other reason would there be?

“ooo our little hajime has a crush! this must be why your runs take so long! i knew you were suspicious!” toru has won. this may end up being the worst meal of his life. toru has starting poking him in the sides, and hajime defends himself by slapping the back of his head.

“i do not have a crush! i just… come here for coffee some mornings.”

“oh so it’s just random when you come?” makki asks, skeptical tone evident on his voice.

“yes!”

“lie. nothing you do is random. you totally have a crush.” mattsun catches him. he hates how they are 100% correct.

“keep your voice down. please.” hajime pleads.

“he’s not denying it. wow, in our many years of friendship i have never seen you this flustered!” toru jokes.

hajime quickly finds his head in his hands again.

the next few minutes are filled with relentless teasing for hajime, and you freaking out in the back.

“your lover boy is back!” alisa cheers after hearing the news from hitoka.

“he is not my lover boy!” you defend yourself, grabbing your notepad and rushing right back out of the kitchen to take their orders.

funny how on opposite sides of the restaurant the same conversation is happening.

you arrive back at the corner table to see an extremely red faced hajime. maybe you want him to be your lover boy.

“alright, ready to order?” you ask, as the group turns to you.

“i’ll do toast and sunny side up eggs.” from the guy across hajime.

“waffle please!” from the one next to him. you turn to hajime next.

”um…i’ll just stick with the coffee for now.” he sounds unconfident in his answer. ”you sure?��� you ask, looking up from your notepad. he nods, face still red as ever.

“hm, and for you?” you ask, turning to the final guy, you recognize him as one of the university volleyball players, but you can’t quite recall his name.

“i’ll do the stack of pancakes please,” he starts. “and also….your phone number for my dear friend hajime here!” he finishes his sentence with the most gleeful voice, it actually makes you laugh a bit.

“alright then.” you say, before turning on your heel and leaving. as you walk away you can hear hajime scolding him.

after you drop off their food and refill hajimes coffee, they request 4 separate checks, so you head to split the check in the back.

but, at the bottom of a certain check, you scribble down a quick note.

𖦹₊⊹fun facts⊹₊𖦹

-you started looking forward to your shifts when iwazumi was showing up but then he stopped so you went right back to being late

-hitoka was very scared by the group of 4 giant men

-alisa is a gossip machine, she knows everything about everyone in this restaurant

-toru loves to wingman

a/n: HE GOT THE NUMBER oikawa best wingman ever even if he wasn't asked to be.

taglist:

@wyrcan @nbcvs @froyaoya @mylahrins @wizardhore

@chloiyoomi @causenessus @bubooo @lvtilzs @nishayuro

@diorzs @19calicos

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 7 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood.

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taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie

“Four aces.” Namjoon puts his cards down and he thinks he won, he claps his hands and takes a sip from his beer. “What do you got?”

“Don’t celebrate too early Joon.” You put your cards down. “Straight flush.” And you finally beat his cards and win the game.

That day was a lazy day for both of you, after your nap you two woke up hungry and ended up cooking pasta with prepackaged sauce to save time, and after dinner he wanted to see if he could beat you in a poker game, and you won the game three times in a row.

“Fuck.” He murmurs. “Practice round.” He tries to manipulate the game which makes you laugh. “I’m ready to play you again and I’ll win.” You shrug.

He nods and takes another sip from his drink. “You got lucky y/n.” He has the habit of messing with you and you know he’s doing it again now so you hit his chest. “You’re such an idiot.” You get up on your feet and collect the plates that were still on the coffee table before you head to the kitchen, he follows you and takes the plates from your hands before putting them in the sink. “You should go lie down, I’ll do the dishes.”

You giggle and cross your arms. “I’m okay, I promise.”

He’s been treating you like a fragile piece of glass the entire day, When you’re making dinner, he felt like a burden when you got up and insisted to cook, even when you didn’t even finish half of your plate, he knows you cooked just because he’s there. So he insisted on helping in the kitchen even though when he turns everything into a disaster.

He washes the plates before stacking them in the dishwasher, you tilt your head and just think.

Why?

Is she blind? His wife must fucking brainless for treating him like utter shit and turning his life upside down.

This man walked out of a book, he’s sweet, sensitive, caring, smart, cute, attractive, and really good in bed. Why would she do that?

You were never the type to praise a man or care for one emotionally because you’re a little sure that most of them are heartless really.

But Kim Namjoon needs to be treated with love, he deserves to be loved and to be taken care of.

There’s just one thing left to do, you’ve studied this man enough and now you need someone else to do that instead, you’re probably blinded by his good looks or something, so you need someone to see him differently.

“Do you have anything planned Friday?” You use your palms for support and jump to sit on the counter, he hums and looks up for a second trying to remember his schedule. “I’m supposed to fly to Gwangju tomorrow night, and I’m flying back Friday evening,” He nods when he remembers before he asks. “Do you wanna do something?”

You didn’t think it much, but this is the perfect opportunity to finally get him to meet your friends. “I’m planning to host a game night with my friends, and I want you to come over and join.”

He grabs the kitchen towel to dry his hands before he scratches the back of his neck, a little hesitated to answer.

“Don’t worry, they already know about you and they’re really nice people.”

You really wish you didn’t say that, because it obviously made him uncomfortable. You can tell from the way he fidgets in his spot and looks away. “I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.” He says.

You shake your head immediately. “No, Hoseok found out when he saw you here a couple weeks ago, And Jimin actually found out on his own, you’ll get to see the others on Friday, but I promise, other than their inappropriate jokes and really loud arguments, they’re good people.”

He turns to face you again before a smirk sits on his face, taking a few steps closer to you. “So you want to introduce me to your friends?” And you playfully hit his chest, “They’re finally going to see the guy who fucked their friend huh?” He continues. Your face flushes red for a moment and you feel heat creeping all over your body.

He nods slowly. “Sure, I’d love to join then.”

-

“You’re kidding.” Of course it’s Kim Taehyung, who’s face suddenly drops and changes to the point you would barely recognize his features, he’s the last one to find out that Namjoon is joining you tonight and he clearly isn’t that glad about it. “Y/n, he lied to you, you can’t just-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, “I got to know the man very well in the past month, I just need you guys to help me, you’re a guy and you know how guys think, I really care about everyone’s opinion, but I care about yours the most.” You shut the cabinet after grabbing out large bowls for the chips.

You had everything completely planned, you refilled your fridge and mini bar with alcohol and other drinks, you stacked your pantry with different types of chips and candy, and you even made the dips and popped some popcorn.

“You already know my opinion.” He crosses his arms. “And I don’t think I’m going to change it.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Just give him a chance, oh and please oh please don’t scare him off and don’t do that thing with your face.” You pause. “Oh and please don’t mention anything about his personal life, I already warned the guys and now I’m telling you, he doesn’t have to know that you know.”

“I’m not going to mention anything, but I can’t promise you anything about not scaring him off.” He grabs the bowls and heads out to the living room, he’s really irritated that when he saw Jungkook in front of him, he snapped at him loudly. “Jungkook will you please move your fat ass and drag the poker table to the living room?” He scolds the younger which makes you laugh, you know the topic of Namjoon irritated him just because he’s really protective of you, they all are, but Taehyung never had close girl friends and you’re the first one ever, that’s why he protects you at all costs.

“I kinda wish Namjoon joined us all the time if you’re going to wear dresses like these.” Jungkook finally gets up to get the poker table, you cringe and kick him in the shin. “What a creep.”

You do admit you look good in that dress, you had just bought it, a dark grey shapewear slip dress that complemented and highlighted every single curve on your body, it had a square collar to bring out your tits, and it was a little above the knee. You matched it with the pair of slippers you wear around your house, cute but really attractive.

Jimin grabs the bowl of chips into his lap and starts eating. “Where is he anyway? Is he always late?”

You rub your forehead, all of them are acting weird today as if they got jealous, not jealous in a romantic way, but jealous in a possessive-over-their-friend jealous. “He landed an hour ago, so he should be here any minute.” You head back to the kitchen and take out ash trays, some of your friends were social smokers and they always light up a few smokes during game nights.

The door bell rings and you hear the rushing footsteps from the living room, and like the kids they are, they rush to check the cameras before they all take their seats and act nonchalant, but all eyes are on the door.

Poor Namjoon he’s about to be scared off.

“Can someone please get the door?” You yell from the kitchen.

Namjoon was a little taken back when the door was opened by Yoongi, he was expecting you to be the one to open, his eyes even wonder inside the house looking for you. “Hi.” Yoongi shoots a smile before stretching his hand out to shake Namjoon’s. “I’m Yoongi, come on in.”

And the moment Namjoon steps in, he lets out a nervous smile and looks around the room aching to find you, he’s getting nervous by the second especially when all of them are looking at him.

“Joon?” You finally get out of the kitchen with the ashtrays in one hand, and just like magic, Namjoon suddenly feels like he’s home, his breath is regular again and his heart beat is.. Well he’s still anxious about meeting your friends.

“There you are.” You purposely give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek in front of your friends. “How was your flight?”  He wraps one arm around you and kisses you back on the cheek .”It was great, you look outstanding.”

He did notice the dress and he so desperately wants to check you out but everyone is looking. You giggle and put your hand behind his back. “Guys, this is Namjoon.”

And you introduce him to each one of them, you were too occupied looking at Namjoon’s body language and behavior to notice any discomfort, but he’s doing surprisingly okay, not because your friends are nice to him, but because you’re here with him.

What you didn’t know is that Taehyung is studying this man head to toe, he knows how men look when they’re attracted to someone, and he knows how they even act, and he’s a little amused when he sees the way Namjoon looks at you, he knows that you two know each other for a month, but Namjoon’s looks give him away, he does have something for you, and it’s very obvious.

“Come on everyone, take your seats.” Seokjin stands up, Namjoon pulls a chair for you next to him and speaks. “y/n is on my team.” Which lights up the first argument around the table, calling you on his team is like calling out for shotgun and everyone wanted you to be on their team.

-

Namjoon sits between the hyenas and you’re genuinely scared when he’s around your friends, you still don’t know how far along Namjoon will be able to endure,  your friends are really heavy blooded and ruthless when it comes to joking and making fun of each other.

“It’s me, Namjoon, Yoongi and Mia against the rest of you.” Hoseok said while examining his cards.

You had already played a couple rounds and called it over, but they decided to continue playing since the bet just got higher and they all have alcohol in their systems.

“Yoongi and Mia should play in different teams.” Taehyung teases. “Make them fight.”

Yoongi flips Taehyung off and you look at Namjoon worried he may think this is too much, but he laughs and looks at his cards, his long fingers shuffling through them, a little too focused on them.

“Are they good?” You put your arm on the back of his chair, and he startles for a second, totally not used to being touched in public like that. “Hmm?” He looks at you, your noses almost brushing against each other. “Your cards.” You explain and brush a hair strand away from his face.

“Yeah, they’re not bad.” He says, looking back at his cards. “Come closer.” He proper grabs your chair and pulls you closer to him.

“Come on captain you’re up.” Jimin got way too excited, which makes everyone laughs at him at the nickname he just called Namjoon, and they continue calling him that for the rest of the game.

You get up to get more beer from the kitchen and you hear their voices go louder when the game gets hotter, you return to the living room and you see them pick at Namjoon for being too obvious with his expression, almost exposing his cards. He’s handling it well and biting back at them, they’re still joking of course. You grin and walk closer to him, wrapping an arm around him from behind. “Now stop teasing him will you.” You print a soft kiss on his neck, inhaling his perfume. “They’re just jealous you’re a better player.” You raise an eyebrow at the team playing against him.

Namjoon’s cheeks flush and his heart races a little, he’s been fighting the urge to touch you since the night started, he even finds himself salivating at the look of your bottom lip bitten between your teeth when you’re looking at him, his pants are getting a little uncomfortable for him.

Your actions don’t go unnoticed by your friends and you clearly see Jungkook smirking and Taehyung’s eyes locked onto Namjoon.

You pull your chair and get back into your seat next to him, you feel his thigh pressed against the side of yours and it burns to the touch, you’re trying so hard to control yourself but you’re on the verge of taking him to your bedroom for a little ‘chat’.

You lean in closer to put your chin on his shoulder and take a look at his cards, he’s already got the winning cards but he’s stalling you’re friends and messing with them. You look at him and your eyes meet, he grins and stares at your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.

Taehyung’s eyes are piercing at the two of you now which doesn’t go unnoticed by his girlfriend Jade, who ends up elbowing him subtly gaining his attention, but he just couldn’t help but to look back at Namjoon.

Taehyung himself has the highest body count out of everyone, and he’s been with way too many girls and he managed to get away with an excuse not to call them again, he even didn’t call Jade back after their first night together. He knows that men actually do end up calling back women they actually do find attractive, or women who they can benefit of.

Then he thinks, what would Namjoon want to benefit out of you? He’s financially stable, quite good looking he could just point out to any woman and she’ll go on her knees for him, a man with an admirable job, apparently someone who doesn’t mind long term relationship since he’s already married.

Oh yes, the man is married.

And Taehyung finds it funny that they’re all sitting there basically showing him that it’s okay to cheat on his wife with their best friend, gosh this is fucked up on so many levels.

Your friends know that Namjoon is your current fling, but if anyone outside of your circle who doesn’t get the context they would think you two are madly in love. No no…

They would think he’s madly in love.

Plus, Taehyung first considered Namjoon to be a total red flag, but after a couple hours from sitting around the table with him, he doesn’t seem half bad, actually, he’s really cool, and very smart.

Oh and for you?

You totally don’t care who’s looking and who’s not, you’re totally feeling up Namjoon’s thighs under the table, your fingers squeezing softly on his inner thigh, he manages to hide his facial expressions really well, but he man spreads his legs to give you more space to stroke more of his covered skin. “Royal flush.” He couldn’t wait to put his cards down on the table just so he can lay his palm over yours, proper grabbing it and putting it on his clothed erection. The idea itself is arousing the two of you when you’re surrounded by other people and teasing each other with touches from under the table.

“I’m calling Namjoon and y/n on my team the next round.” Hoseok calls which makes Seokjin argue. “That’s not fair, you only get to choose one.”

“Not a chance, Namjoon and I are a team.” You take a sip from your bear.

Of course Namjoon is unbothered by the argument, hell he’s not even listening, his eyes are fidgeting between your hand that’s rubbing his boner subtly under the table, and on your lips and chest rising when you’re breathing.

He could take you right now on the poker table and they can watch, he won’t mind.

-

“Next week, I promise I’ll find a place.” Hoseok suggests when they were already planning the next weekend with Namjoon, they usually discuss it with you but they’re all over the guy, and he’s doing pretty well that he was planning everything and they were listening carefully. You’re watching in awe as they talk to him like they’ve known him for years, and it makes you feel a little anxious.

You recall what he told you the other day, and he was totally right, this isn’t just a hookup, it’s way more than this and that’s what’s making you anxious.

Namjoon digs into his pocket to fish out his phone and he unlocks it. “My parents got this beach house on the outskirts, we could go there. It has a pool and a hot tub and we can light up the bonfire by the beach at night.”

Jungkook is standing really close to Namjoon, he even grabs the phone from the older’s hands and starts swiping through the pictures, an amused look on Jungkook’s face. “How rich are your parents? This house is incredible—Oops, sorry.” Both their faces change and you panic a little wondering what they saw, Jungkook swiped too far and a picture of Jay appears on the screen, of course Jungkook is smart enough to swipe back to the previous photos quickly without making it seem awkward, but it actually is.

You even earn a look from both Taehyung and Seokjin, the air even tenses up a little, you look at Namjoon who contains himself and acts like nothing happened, he thinks that they don’t know, and that they will probably assume that it’s his nephew or brother or anything. But really, they all do know and they’re not acting oblivious enough, thank god he doesn’t notice.

“Okay, clear up your schedules for the next weekend, no excuses y/n.” Jimin speaks sarcastically and you realize you’re holding your breath, you rejected going with them a couple weeks ago, but now since you have your plus one, you actually wanna go. “Shut up.” You squint your eyes at him.

“I should get going.” Seokjin gets up. “I’m on call tomorrow.”

“I need to go too, I’m visiting my parents tomorrow.” Jimin gets up too and walks closer to give you a hug. “I had so much fun tonight, thanks for having us.”

“I had fun too.” You kiss his cheek. “Drive safe.” And he bids goodbye with Seokjin and they get going.

You grab the empty plates and pickup the empty cans of bear when Mia gets up to grab the rest of the empty bowls. “Let me help you.”

Both of you head to the kitchen and you start rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, you can sense that Mia has something to say from the way she’s hovering around you and scratching her eyebrow awkwardly, her eyes carefully scanning you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

You and Mia always shared secrets together and she was always there for you, and so were you, she came up to you for an advice every time she had an argument with Yoongi, you both trust each other.

“Do you not see it?” She whispers, her hand sitting on her hip, one of your eyebrows cocks up in confusion, you’re totally clueless on what she’s about to say. “See what?”

“The way he looks at you, he’s head over heels.”

You roll your eyes before you chuckle. “Mia, Namjoon and I met exactly 6 weeks ago, of course he’s not head over heels for me, what are you talking about.”

“Honey, Yoongi asked me to be his girlfriend after our third date.” She spits. “And look at us now.”

You shrug one shoulder and shake your head. “I can’t see what you’re talking about, he’s still married and he has a child, so this is all probably temporary, no strings attached.”

“No strings attached?” She laughs quietly. “Girl, he’s over here handling your annoying friends on a Friday night. Plus, he’s getting a divorce, so this doesn’t count.”

You pause for a second before you look at the woman. “Who told you that?”

“Hobi told us.” She bites on her fingernails, the asshole did read the papers, but why didn’t he tell you?

“It doesn’t mean anything, he’s not getting the divorce because of me.” You step on the pedal of the trashcan to get rid of the empty cans of drinks.

She sighs. “I’m just saying think it through—“

“Of course I’m not going to, especially when I don’t know where he is about this.” You interrupt her, you had a point. Of course you’re not going to like a man who you met only 6 weeks ago, what if he was on a total different page than where you think you are?

“Baby? Come on, we should be going home.” Yoongi leans against the kitchen door frame and he feels like he interrupted something. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Not at all.” You turn towards the sink and wash your hands.

“What do you think about Namjoon?” Mia asks, her arms crossed, she already knows what her husband thinks, she just wants you to know that he thinks the same.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he puts his hands in his pockets. “I personally think he’s okay, but Jungkook out there is all over your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You grit on your teeth before you peak your head out of the kitchen door, Jungkook is sitting really close next to Namjoon, and both of them are in what seems to be an important topic,  before he flexes his arm muscles and feels up Namjoon’s. Men.

You roll your eyes and get back into the kitchen. “Jungkook is all over everyone even himself.”

Yoongi laughs quietly before walking closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “It doesn’t matter what we think y/n, it’s what you think that matters. I know you wanted us to study the man, and we do actually like him, but it’s you who matters.” And his wife nods eagerly showing you that this somehow was her point too before she adds. “And he seems to fancy you a lot.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi agrees. “But take it slow, will you? The man is still married and we don’t know what’s happening next.”

You sigh and rub your forehead. He’s making sense, and you’re not sure why you’re a little afraid to admit that you finally like someone, but you do, except no matter how hard you think it’s okay to like someone, it still feels wrong when he’s involved with someone else.

“We had so much fun tonight, take care chief.” He squeezes you closer and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight.”

You walk them towards the door, they bid goodbye to everyone before they leave. Jungkook is still occupied talking with Namjoon and the poor guy is listening and he seems to be actually interested.

Taehyung and his girlfriend finally get up too, he walks closer to you to pull you in for a hug. “We had so much fun tonight.” He prints a soft kiss on your cheek before he whispers. “You wanna go out for coffee tomorrow? Just us two.”

You wrap your arms around him and kiss him back on the cheek. “Sure, I’ll call you.” You’re a little glad he suggested this date, you know he’s going to let it all out.

He nods and pulls back before saying goodbye to everyone, actually handshaking Namjoon specifically with a smile on his face, before he grabs his girlfriend and leaves.

You finally walk closer to Namjoon who’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, Jungook in front of him on the coffee table not planning to shut his mouth anytime soon, you squeeze in between them and sit on Namjoon’s leg and hug him closer.

The poor man isn’t used to being touched like this or publicly shown affection at all, he’s startled to the point where he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, you grab his arm and put it explicitly on your ass, totally unbothered by the existence of Hoseok and Jungkook.

They’ve done a lot worse so you secretly think that it’s your turn to finally do things like that.

“Did he give you a headache?” You pout, running your fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his head, he melts completely by your touch and he even closes his eyes, barely shaking his head.

“Oh, I’m the one having a headache, you’ve been blabbering nonstop.” Hoseok complains, gritting on his teeth at Jungkook, he gets up and collects his wallet and keys. “I’m going home, I’ll see you next week Namjoon.”

He manages to kiss you on the cheek softly while you’re still sitting on Namjoon’s legs before leaving and forcing Jungkook to finally leave.

You fall next to Namjoon on the couch, yawning and stretching your arms. “Can you please lock the door?”

He laughs quietly before using his palms for support to hover over you, printing a few kisses on your jaw and neck. “But I need to go home.” To which you immediately pout, “One night won’t hurt.”

He leans his forehead against yours and comes to realization, that the last time his lips touched yours was actually very long ago, and as much as he actually wanted to just fuck you senseless, he’s holding back to avoid making you uncomfortable, he doesn’t even dare to press his lips against yours.

He also can’t say no to you, he shrugs it off and finally nods. “One night won’t hurt.”

Even though both of you have been teasing each other with touches the entire night, you still can’t do anything with him since you’re on the last few days of your period.

He rises up on his feet and moves towards the door to lock it before clicking on a few buttons to dim the lights. And from his walk back towards you, you can easily tell that he’s been suffering with his boner that’s hiding in his jeans.

“I’m sorry.” You giggle playfully, he follows your eyesight and scoffs, his hands immediately rushing to his pockets to relieve some of the tightness. “Don’t worry, I got used to having blue balls my entire life.” He sarcastically speaks.

His joke makes you laugh your heart out, your head even falls back on the couch. He finds it contagious that he laughs with you, walking closer to lean his palm on the back of the couch and leaning down to kiss you on the neck and jaw, your laugh slowly halting down and your bottom lip sits between your teeth. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He grabs you by your hand and pulls you up.

To say he’s trying so hard is an understatement. The way you currently look is making him near losing it, your hair is frizzy and your eyes are half closed, even your dress is no longer covering your legs. Fuck he needs to touch you.

“Ugh.” You groan when you look at the poker table. “Can you please take it inside?”

He looks back at the poker table and carries it up, his veiny arms about to rip his t-shirt open when they bulge, this big boy is insanely attractive that it’s hard for you to keep your hands to yourself.

-

“Of course not.” He pouts, you’re both in bed, your head on his bare chest and he’s tugging random strands of your hair, you look at him and squint your eyes. “Well, I do mind.”

He’s been trying to convince you since the moment you two got in bed, that he won’t mind sex during your period, and of course you argued with the only reasonable excuse, it’s going  to be a blood bath.

“Are you saying you don’t mind other stuff?” He suggestively asks, his finger tapping your nose softly, you know exactly what he means and you take a second to answer. “I don’t know, the whole idea is odd to me.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “We can try if you want to.” Which makes you scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re just saying that because your dick won’t go soft.” And he nods quickly. “I know, it won’t go soft when you’re this close to me and I can’t touch you.”

This knot sits in the pit of your stomach and you feel your body heat up, it feels really good to be sexually craved by someone, you love hearing it so much. “I can’t say I’m not flattered.” You lie down on your stomach, your elbows supporting your upper half as you grab a strand of your hair messing with it. “We could try I guess.”

He looks at your lips and licks his lower one, he could easily bust a nut at how far his imagination is going. “Okay.” He throws the blanket away from your bodies and drops it on the floor before bucking his hips up to pull his boxers down, his throbbing and already leaking cock slams against his lower stomach, the head already red and sensitive.

You swallow when you’re mouth suddenly excretes a stupid amount of saliva, you could kill to just choke on  his dick, you want to make him feel good.

He leans both his arms behind his head and gives you an inviting look, he’s fully surrendered to you, he wants you to help him.

You spit on your palm and wrap your fingers around his cock, instant heat rushes through his body and even his legs spread apart a little. He swallows once, his hand then moves to caress the side of your face softly, he’s been waiting for this moment for a while now.

You stroke his erection slowly, your  eyes focused on the only task you have in your hand, you wanted to just jerk him off at the beginning, but now you need to taste him.

You move your mouth closer to his dick and print the softest kiss on the tip, your eyes now locked into his, you lick once from the base of his shaft to the very tip, a string of saliva mixes with his precum and stays attached to your bottom lip, your other hand moves to the tip to smear his precum with your index finger before you put  it in your mouth, the saltiness sits on your taste buds, and it tastes fucking good.

His cock twitches in your hand at the sight of you doing so, you even giggle playfully and kiss the head again. “All that for me?” You whisper. His eyes almost roll to the back of his head when you wrap your lips around the head and bob your head down and up, your hair falling on your face. “Good fucking girl, just like  that.”

You bob your head lower each time before you pull back and stroke it again, you look him into the eyes and speak with a low voice. “I can suck your cock better than she does”

“Fuck!” He moans at the top of his lungs before he accidentally cums too fast, you even gasp when he shoots his cum in the air and it lands down on his stomach and on your hand, a little drop falling on the corner of your mouth, he holds the bed sheets into his fist and bucks his up with every spill. “Mmm,” His chest heaves dramatically when he’s done, his cock still in your hand and you’re still stroking him slowly. “Look at the mess you made.” You teasingly click your tongue, he looks down at you and smiles lazily. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

You giggle and climb up towards him, you press the softest kiss on his lips and he immediately kisses you back eagerly, begging to feel more of your lips against his, he’s been wanting to kiss you the entire night, he licks your bottom lip and grabs your head closer, his tongue licks the small drop of his cum near your lips and he spits it into your mouth and you’re more than glad to swallow it.

He pulls back from the kiss and grabs your hand. “Let me clean you up.” He licks every drop of cum off of your fingers and kisses you back on the lips to spit the remaining cum into your mouth and again you swallow.

He wraps his arms around your hips and turns you so you lay flat on the bed, he hovers on top of you and prints small kisses repeatedly on your lips before he moves down to your neck, kissing it and licking softly which makes your body heat up again.

Namjoon never had the chance to study the female body correctly, his previous sexual life was solely just about getting the job done, of course it felt good to him, but with you this whole experience feels new to him and it’s filled with ecstasy. He wanted to explore your body, know what you’re into, not just because it felt insanely erotic to him, but he wanted to please you and make you feel good and satisfied.

He moves down to your chest, your nipples are perked up from underneath your tight white top from the blood pumping all over your body, almost begging to be touched by him, his index finger circles your hard covered nipple softly, his eyes focused on it and his tongue running on his lower lip.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the fabric once, rubs it with his index finger again and now using his thumb to pinch it lightly, your cunt feels numb and you can’t press your thighs together since he’s nestled between your legs.

The moisture he applied to your clothed nipple makes the shirt no longer white, it’s started to get see through and he can see it better now. “You can take my top off if you want to.” You suggest, a little out of breath, he looks up into your face to see the really obvious red flush on your face, now he’s a little more eager to make you cum.

He doesn’t hesitate as his warm fingers climb on your torso from under the shirt and he throws it off of you, your breasts fully exposed to him now, one of his hands lean on the pillow behind you to support his upper half, and the other gropes your breast in a tight grip, fuck, It hurts, but still feels so good.

He leans down and licks the valley between your tits and licks your nipple before sucking on it for his dear life, pulling his head back a little with your breast still in his mouth, the tugging makes your back arch against him, your hand moves to grab his wrist that’s leaning against the pillow. “Shit.” You clench your jaw when you feel your nipple sitting between his teeth, your eyes meet and he grins, almost threatening to actually bite it.

You grab onto his face, your thumb on his right cheek and the rest of your fingers on his left one. “No biting.”

Seeing you under him like that is more than enough to make him erect all over again like he didn’t just shoot a load a couple minutes ago, you find out when you accidentally graze your thigh between his legs and you feel his cock brushing against your skin. You really are flattered.

And he obeys, moving to your other breast to give it some love, before he turns you to lay on your side, and he lays behind you skin to skin, his arm sits under your head and he leans his forehead on the side of your face to kiss your ear. “Did I tell you how much I liked the dress you were wearing tonight?”

Your eyes automatically shut when you feel his hot breath into your ear when he speaks, you let out a breath when your head falls back against his. “You had no idea how much I wanted to bend you over that poker table and fuck your tight cunt.” He whispers, no he explicitly moans into your ear when he speaks. “Let them see how good your man can stretch that tight little pussy of yours.”

You shut your eyes tightly and you can’t take it anymore, you need to cum, you need him to touch you or do anything, you have to cum. “Fuck, Namjoon it hurts.”

“Hmm?” He hums, kissing your ear again, your hand moves to hold onto his that you’re leaning your head onto, you squeeze onto his palm and beg. “Please, please make me cum.”

He could embarrassingly cum fast like he did a couple minutes ago, but this time he’s able to hold back.

“You wanna cum?” He teasingly asks, his free hand grazes on the side of your body before it moves to your ass, he squeezes it into his palm and gives you the hardest spank ever, your butt cheek tingles with heat, on regular bases it would hurt, but now, it’s pushing you closer to your end.

His fingers hook on the elastic band of your panties before he pulls it down to reach your thighs, then wraps his fingers around his erection and settles it against your folds, your wet cunt glazing his cock and making it glisten when he rubs it in between your folds.

The numbness in your cunt hurts and you could feel your arousal on your own thighs, you’re getting way too impatient and eager for him that you grind your hips against his. You know he’s not going to penetrate since you’re basically still on your period, so grinding will do the job.

He grabs onto the back of your thigh and lifts one of your legs up to give him the desired space to start grinding against your folds, the slickness from your cunt making it easier to grind against you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the tip of his dick rub against your throbbing clitoris repeatedly, your jaw drops and you even reach for the back of his head behind you and pull onto his hair. “You’re gonna make me cum, please—“

“I know baby, can you hold back for me just a little?” He whispers into your ear, his irregular breath against your ear sending shivers across your body. “Just a little.” And you respond with shaking your head, your lips falling between your teeth, the knot inside your stomach is going to burst any second now. “I can’t.” You tug onto his hair tighter and grind your hips against his, your butt cheek slams against his body and you finally release, the heat washes through your spine and back and you could see starts in your eyes. “Ha.. Namjoon, I’m sorry.. I couldn’t.” Your hand falls and you start panting for a breath.

He kisses your ear softly and runs his hand on your thighs, pressing his fingers lightly into your skin and he can feel the heat of your body on his fingers tips. “You’re off the hook this time.” He teasingly whispers before he pulls back from behind you, his eyes land on his dick and he sees how much you’ve soaked him with your cream and he smirks, totally ignoring the little smear of blood on his dick.

He sits up on his knees on the bed and helps you lay flat on the bed again before pressing his lips against yours for a few wet kisses, his tongue grazing on your lower lip, his hand grabs onto yours and he leads it to his cock that’s seconds away to busting a nut.

Your body already feels loose that it takes you seconds to gather the strength to stroke his cock, taking the speed up every second, pleasure washes through his entire body that he can’t focus on the kiss and return it to you, his forehead falls against yours and his jaw falls down, his breath quickening and his eyelids falling down slowly. “That’s it.” He managed to hiss under his breath, both his palms sit on the pillow behind you and he lets you do all the work, your hands are getting tired that you have to stop for a second to change your rhythm, which makes him hold his cock into his own hands and stroke it fast.

You feel the need to not waste a drop, so you position your head near his cock and stick your tongue out, clearly telling him to cum on your mouth and face, and that’s the last thing he needs to see so he just lets go and shoots out continuous ribbons of his seed on your tongue and face, decorating it just the way he likes, and he swears you looked fucking gorgeous with his cum all over your face. “Fuck-“ He grunts and his hand falls down, his cock twitching and still shooting out cum on your tongue.

One of your hand grazes on his big thighs and the other one just cleans the cum off of your face to put it into your mouth, your eyes meets his and he stares at you out of breath and in awe, watching you clean every drop of his seed and put it into your mouth, you smirk when you see his cock twitching at the sight, before you stick your tongue out to show him the cum you gathered inside your mouth and swallow it, giving your lower lip a single lick. “Hmm.” You sit up on your knees and pull your panties back up, before wrapping your arms around his shoulder and smacking your tongue teasingly at him. “You taste okay.” You shrug, which makes him laugh and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his soft dick grazing on your lower stomach. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“I know.” You tease and kiss his cheek once. “Now you can go to sleep.”

Both of you lay down on the bed, his back faces you and you hug him from behind, kissing his bare shoulder softly before you finally go to sleep.

-

You walk into the warm café and the scent of the freshly roasted coffee beans and freshly bakes pastries wafts through your nose, you miss going to cafés like that since you’ve been deprived from it ever since you started your job, you used to study in coffee shops back then.

You look around and finally spot Taehyung on one of the tables waving his hand towards you, you walk closer to him, give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before you pull the chair across from him and take a seat.

Almost one hour in and you two spend it catching up on daily things, his job, yours, his girlfriend and how he’s planning to ask her to move it, before he finally speaks of the not so forgotten topic and asks you about Namjoon.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?” You ask him, your eyes locked into his face to study his features, you’re getting anxious slowly and impatient to know what he thinks.

He takes a long sip of his iced Americano before he rests his back against the chair and crosses his arms. “Does it matter what I say?” And that confuses you for a second. “He seems to like you, but we need to address the elephant in the room y/n, he’s still married and you don’t even know where you are on this whole thing.” He shrugs.

You lean your elbows on the table and shrug. “You’re right, but I’m not being delusional Tae, he clearly feels something, don’t you think?”

And he nods. “Perhaps, yeah.” Before he continues. “Look we just need to give it some time, you guys just started talking and you’re just high on each other.”

You huff and take a sip of your drink. “The man is perfect” And it feels like a heavy weight on your shoulder just disappeared when you finally said that to someone. Taehyung grins and shrugs slightly. “The guys like him.”

“And you?”

“I do.” He says. “But it doesn’t matter what any of us thinks, it’s all up to you.”

“You’re not really helping me.” You whine and hit his leg from under the table.

“We can’t discuss anything right now, we need to know where he is at least, we could be reading him wrong after all.” He rubs his leg before cursing at you under his breath.

“Then what are we doing here?” You blink your eyes, “I thought we were going to discuss the entire thing.”

“I just want you to take everything slow, we’re all here for you and we’ve got your back.” He puts his hand over yours and squeezes it softly. “You’re a successful woman, who’s smart enough to take her own decisions and know what’s good for her and what’s not.”

You thought the heavy weight on your shoulders is gone but it’s slowly returning, you’ve always seen people falling in and out of love and you always rolled your eyes at the entire idea, why would people deliberately go through relationships when most of them go down the pooper? That’s why you never did relationships.

And now for a second you judge Namjoon, this man is going through a rough patch in his life all because of his failed marriage, and yet again he’s right here, clearly developing feelings for you and choosing to go sort of the same path again.

“You’re right.” You nod. “I would be lying if I told you I didn’t like the man, I actually do and he ticks everything on my list, I just need to be careful, that’s all.”

“Good.” He squeezes your hand again for reassurance. “How good is the sex?”

Your drink goes through your nose and you actually choke, you cover your mouth and cough repeatedly trying to clear out your airway. “Shut up.” You manage to curse at him.

-

“What do you mean? Of course this can’t happen.” Her father is in mere denial, the divorce papers fall accidentally in his hands. Copies has been sent in the mail on Monday morning to him and his daughter.

She wanted this to happen long time ago but she didn’t realize that she’s dragging down her entire family with her. She too was silenced and forced by her father to do the whole thing since the beginning, so she saw it coming.

She’s going to have to pay for all the manipulation that was done by her family to Namjoon’s.

Namjoon didn’t even tell anyone about the divorce that was going to happen, he filed for it a little before he met you, and then when he did meet you, he knew that he cannot and will not end up with the woman he has under his roof, this can’t be his ending. So he called a few people and even paid his lawyer to help him end it faster.

Her on the other hand just locked the door behind her when she got back to their house, the mail is in her hand and although the title is already clear, she’s still confused by it..

Ministry of Justice,

Seoul family court, Gangnam.

Divorce Agreement.

With her full name on it, she squints her eyes and finally opens the mail eagerly, almost ripping the envelope, luckily Jay slept on the way home, she carried him into his bed before she opened the mail.

It’s her name, and Namjoon’s name, she did see it coming, but she never knew how she would react. But she’s breaking into cold sweat, worried what her family might think if they knew.

Her purpose of this marriage is long gone when she finished her education that was paid by Namjoon’s parents, her parents live off of his family now, but she never needed their money, she never bought herself clothes, makeup, or even anything she craved because it’s their money.

She didn’t pay actual money for her education, she paid her life when she decided to share it with Namjoon.

She despises him, the way he talks, the way he moves, his hands, his eyes, his face. She hates his sense of humor, his voice tone. She even hates the way he breathes or snores. She too, can’t end up with him.

And no matter how hard she tried to convince her family that she’d do anything to make them live a better life without the Kim’s, it ended up with fights and arguments and actual threats from them.

So she went with it, married the man, but she made a promise to herself, that she’s going to turn his life into hell, she never cared what would happen to him, or if it would hurt him or not, so she just went ahead.

And the divorce papers in her hand are the actual clue that her plan worked. But fuck, she knows that this divorce will wreck their lives. She’s terrified by her family.

The door unlocks and Namjoon walks in and he’s in his uniform since he just flew back from Gwangju, he doesn’t even bother to look at her, he kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie.

Something inside her tells her to just make things right, so she just hides the papers back into the envelope and quickly into her purse. “N-namjoon?”

He turns his back to her and walks into his room, closing the door behind him, he still doesn’t know that she got the papers.

She takes a few steps closer to the door and her hand hovers over the door knob, she’s a split second away from opening the door, but Namjoon locks it from the inside.

She doesn’t know what she wants, or what to do.

-

“Please? I’ve been wanting to go for a while.” He whines with a pout on his face that you can hear through the phone.

You’re in your bed, you were sleeping before he called you since you were on the previous night shift, you have the phone pressed against your ear with your eyes still closed, he’s been trying to convince you about the wine tasting tour.

“I’ll come pick you up, and you can call it a date.”

Your eyes are no longer closed when he speaks of a date this easily, you two haven’t been together alone in public other than the day of your conference, and it was a coincidence that day. But he’s asking you to go out on a date with him, and you weren’t even sure you were at that point yet.

“Joon—“ You sigh. “I don’t know.”  Your phone starts vibrating in your hand and you look at the screen to find him requesting a video chat, and you don’t hesitate a second to accept the call.

Your faces meet and he’s lost at the sight of you for a second before he smiles, his pearly whites and dimples clearly visible. “You’re still in bed?” He asks, leaning his phone on the nightstand near his bed, you could see him topless and unzipping his pants.

“Yeah.” You rub  your eyes and stretch, leaning your phone against the pillow next to yours and snuggling under the blanket. “How was your flight?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He smirks. “Are we going wine tasting tonight?” a smile creeps on your face before you click your tongue. “Let me think about it, I need time to decide.”

He puts his clothes on the couch next to his bed while laughing and walking back to his phone to grab it. “Alright. Until then, what are you wearing?” He licks on his bottom lip as he finally sits on his bed and lights up a cigarette.

You take a long breath before you teasingly look under your blanket.

It’s boiling hot outside, and you’ve had too many snacks on your shift that you couldn’t wait to get home and actually get rid of your scrubs, so you chose to sleep with only your panties.

“A ball gown.” You joke, barely stifling a smirk. And he laughs quietly, trying not to be loud. “I don’t believe you.”

“I like to dress to impress, mister Kim.” You giggle, he raises an eyebrow and blows a cloud of smoke. “Then show it to me.”

He knows you’re not wearing anything since he can see your bare shoulders, you have your blanket covering your upper half. “How was your flight again?” You ask and he rolls his eyes. “You’re such a tease.”

You crack a laugh at him before you finally nod. “Alright, I’ll go on the wine tasting tour with you.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at his phone screen. “I’ll come by this afternoon and we’ll be picked up from your place.”

Namjoon heard about this tour from one of the cabin crew earlier this week, and he’s been wanting to go since then and he wanted to go with you, he’s itching to show you off in public even when he still can’t and you two aren’t even labeled yet.

He enjoys your company so much, and he knows you do too, he can be himself around you and he knows he won’t be judged.

“Okay.” You yawn and snuggle into your blanket, still sleepy. “Can I get back to sleep?”

His lips curve into a little smile when he admires how cute you look when you’re tired and sleepy, he’s admiring your face for too long that he even forgot to answer you. “Namjoon?” You ask, which snaps him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you later.”

You nod before you wave your hand to him, he waves back and finally ends the call and you go back to sleep.

Namjoon on the other hand, finishes booking for the tour while he’s taking the last few puffs of his cigarettes before his phone starts to glitch, it seems to be that there are two people calling him at the same time, and it’s his father and father in law, which makes him panic for a second.

Of course he decides to ignore his father in law’s call and call back his own father. “Dad?”

His father’s voice tone full of worry when speaks. “Namjoon? What’s the matter? Is it true what they’re talking about?”

Namjoon is completely clueless that everyone knows of the divorce now, he’s even clueless that his wife got the papers. “What are you talking about?”

“The divorce? Is it really happening?” He asks, and Namjoon doesn’t hesitate for a second to answer. “Yes dad, I made that decision on my own.”

“You two were incredible together, what’s the matter?” That makes Namjoon scoff, “Are you sure we can’t work things out?”

“No dad, nothing can fix this.” Namjoon swallows the dry lump in his throat, he regrets the years he spent with his wife, he wishes he can just erase that chapter from his life because it did engrave a type of trauma into him.

His father is in denial and so is his father in law, everything seemed to be okay to them, but they never saw anything behind closed doors.

“Please tell him to never contact me, and if he has anything to say, tell him to save it until the day of the hearing.” Namjoon says with a solid tone, not willing to negotiate the entire thing what so ever.

“When’s your hearing?” His father asks and Namjoon answers. “September 12th.”

An audible sigh escapes his father’s mouth. “But son, that’s your birthday.”

“I know, and I got everything under control dad, don’t worry.” Namjoon’s stomach drops when he speaks of the hearing, he feels extremely anxious and  impatiient.

He’s confident that after going through this difficult and challenging experience, he will be starting fresh and new that day.

He cannot wait to feel reborn.

[ailithnight]

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

[outsideratheart]

I’ll be in the stands (Stina Blackstenius x reader)

A/N: This is set in the same universe as Very Important Person. Based off this request. I’m not sure how I feel about this one but I hope you all like it.

Wimbledon. It was the most iconic two weeks of the year. After Australia you had been playing the best tennis of your career so it made sense that you were one of the favourites going into the tournament. 

“Stina, I’m leaving” you shout up to your girlfriend. 

After supporting you in Paris, Stina invited you to join her on a friends trip then she travelled to London to support you before going to New Zealand for the World Cup. She had attended Roland Garros with your parents who unfortunately couldn’t make it to London which left two spare tickets. You gave them to your girlfriend who chose to bring Frido and Magda. 

“Good luck. I’ll see you on centre court” she shouted back down, no doubt still picking out what to wear. 

The Swedish Women had really enjoyed embracing the fashion at Wimbledon and spent most mornings working out who is going to wear what. Today would be their last game before leaving for camp in New Zealand. You had your fourth round game to play and then if you win you would be playing your quarter game whilst they were in the air. 

Dressed in white you walked onto the legendary centre court ready to fight for a spot in the next round. You had done your research on your opponent and knew how she would play and more importantly how to beat her. It’s why it comes as no surprise that you win the first set 6-2 and the second set 6-3.

As you thank the crowd your look lingers on the row that hold the three blondes with one of them capturing your attention more than the other two. You bring the S pendant on your necklace to your lips. After she gave you it for Valentine’s Day you never took it off and would kiss it after every match you played.

“Do you think she will win?” Frido asks.

“I do”

Stina had more faith in you that you did in yourself and whilst you loved her for it, it also added to the pressure because you didn’t want to let her down. The mental strength needed to be a tennis player was hard to explain to people outside the sport. Stina had watched you lose matches, not because your opponent out played you, because you lost your head a gave point after point away. 

The next morning the atmosphere in the house was full of sorrow. The girls were leaving and you wouldn’t see Stina for almost a month. It wasn’t the first time you’d be spending weeks apart but you had gotten used to her company over the past couple of weeks and hated the thought of being away from her.

“Don’t go” you whisper.

You and Stina stood on the doorstep, your arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Hjärtat I have to go”

Truth is you weren’t asking her to stay but you do wish her flight could be delayed a day or two.

“I love you, I have faith in you and I love you”

“You already said that” 

“Because I meant it. Good luck for your match, I’ll be watching on the plane”

You found little solace in knowing that Stina would still be supporting you from thousands of miles in the air. As her car drove away you felt emptier than you did just ten minutes ago but you knew that it was time for her to go, she too had a tournament to win.

Stina was a nervous wreck watching your match on the plane. You had won the first set on tie-break and she could tell that you wasn’t happy with your performance. The way you looked over to your box with a lost look on your face told everyone that you didn’t understand why the set went on this long. The second set was long but also ended in tie-break but this time you had lost. You sat in your area with a towel over your head as you tried desperately to gather your emotions. The fans at Wimbledon were known for cheering on the underdog and with you currently being number 2 and your opponent unseeded the entire arena was cheering her on instead of you.

You lost the final set 6-4. 

“She’s going to be ok right?” Frido wound down the window dividing her and Stina’s booth.

“I don’t know” Stina was already sending you a reassuring text “I hope so”

You felt like you let everyone down. Stina’s message brought a momentary smile to your face but then you remember the reason why she sent it and the smile was replaced with a frown.

The Swedish national team had landed in New Zealand 26 hours after your match ended and Stina’s phone remained glued in her hand but she still hadn’t heard anything from you. She tried calling for the 5th time but like every time before that she was met with your voicemail.

“Is she still not picking up?” Magda asked. 

“She does this sometimes. After a big loss she goes dark but she always texts me before doing so to let me know she’s alright”

At first she wasn’t worried but then her phone went off. She rushed to answer it not bothering to look at the caller ID. She assumed it would be you so imagine her surprise when you manager’s voice comes through the phone. She told Stina that you asked her to cancel all media for the next week and since then she couldn’t get a hold of you and she didn’t know where you were.

The team were given the next two days off in hopes that they could get over their jet lag before training starts. Most of the girls had organised to meet up and explore the city but Stina declined their invite.

She was watching Notting Hill on her iPad remembering how you took her there your first day in London before the tournament started. Her favourite scene had just started when heard a knock at the door.

There you stood with some flowers and half a smile on your face. She was just about to talk when you heard the movie playing in the background.

“The fame thing isn’t really real, you know?” And don’t forget i’m also just a girl standing in front of a girl asking her to love me”

You knew the entire movie word for word. It was your comfort film and since meeting you, it had become Stina’s too. Once your finished she flung her arms around you.

“Careful Älskling, someone might think you’ve missed me” 

She was happy to see you joking around but you had her worried sick since the end of the match and now here you are in New Zealand acting as if nothing had happened.

“Where have you been? We have all been really worried about you”

“I’m sorry I didn’t text. I knew I had let you down and I wasn’t ready to face you yet” 

Your joking expression vanished and the look of guilt took its place. 

Stina walked back into her room and laid on the bed.

“Come here” she held her arms open wide.

You laid between her legs with your head resting on her chest. She began tracing patterns on your back and for the first time in days your thoughts became quiet and your mind was calm.

“You could never let me down Y/N. I have learnt that Tennis can be a cruel sport and this week it chose you as one of its victims”

“Hmmm”

“Shall I put this back to the beginning?” She asks referring to the film even though she knew you wouldn’t see much of it. You were bound to be both physically and mentally exhausted. 

The blonde felt your heart beat even out just as Hugh Grant spills coffee over Julia Roberts. When she looks down your eyes are closed. She couldn’t believe you were here with her in New Zealand. She wasn’t sure how long you would be staying for so she chose to savour the moment playing out in front of her. 

A couple of hours pass and whilst Stina’s whole body was starting to go numb, you looked too peaceful to wake so she put on another film secretly hoping that you would wake up soon because she was starting to get hungry. Just as she was strolling through nearby restaurants the door swings open.

“Stina, Y/N’s here” Frido tells her but stops talking when she sees you fast asleep in her team mates arms or so that what she thought.

“We were at this coffee shop down the road and two girls were talking about how they had just met her” Zecira says not noticing you as she goes into the bathroom.

“Shhhh. She’s asleep” Stina scolds her team mates.

“No she’s not” you slowly sat up but not before placing a gentle kiss to your girlfriends lips.

You saw 4 Swedish woman looking at you and the awkward tension could be cut with a knife. All of them had watched the game and then saw the way Stina had been worried about you.

“Sorry you lost” Fillipa says earning a slap from Magda.

“Thanks but at least now I get to watch you girls play for the next month”

“You’re staying for the whole thing? You’re not going to play?” She was both happy that you were staying but also worried about you taking such a long break away from Tennis.

“I am. As for tennis, I think I need to take some time off but I can practice here when I’m ready because the courts are similar to New York”

Stina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The two of you just looked at each other, waiting for the other to speak. 

“So you Y/N Y/L/N are going to be a WAG?” 

“Yes, Stina Blackstenius I am going to be a WAG. I will wear my highlighter shirt to every game and cheer you on”

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum

Chapter 24

[Prev] [Next]

The first blood test was positive.  And then the second one a week after that.  So were the three at-home pregnancy tests you took.  You’d be remiss to deny the fact that your breasts had been so unbelievably sore, so painful in fact that the days you spent home from work had you completely rejecting the very idea of wearing a bra.  Still trying not to get your hopes up, you kept your symptoms to yourself and to Law (who was very disappointed at the fact that hugging you in the front had become painful).  

And now, two full weeks after your first blood test, you were sitting with Penguin at a table outside a cafe.  A large umbrella was open above you, shielding you from the sun as you anxiously tapped your fingers on the metal table, waiting for the call from your doctor.

Your anxiety was practically oozing out of you like sludge, and it was definitely affecting Penguin.  He took off his hat and rubbed the back of his palm over his forehead, crinkling his nose.  “Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t know how to do CPR.”

You rested your head in your palm, placing your phone screen-down on the table.  “I promise I won’t.  I’m sorry for being such a bummer, I know you were looking forward to lunch today.”

Your friend waved his hand in the air reassuringly after putting his hat back on his head.  His black hair had begun receding recently, and he’d been covering his hairline more than he usually had.  “Nah, don’t sweat it.  I just want to make sure you’re alright, that’s all.”  When he finished his sentence, he pushed your glass of melting ice water closer to you.  You chuckled, grabbing the glass and taking a long sip out of the straw.

“So what’s your schedule like, anyway?” he asked, poking through the small cafe menu.  “Like, if this next test comes back positive, then what?”

You resisted the urge to check your phone once more.  “If this one comes back positive, I’ll have another blood test in a week.  And then if that one shows normal signs of progression, I’ll continue to have them done weekly.  I’m not sure how long that will last, but I’m getting kinda tired of seeing my blood in tiny plastic tubes.”

Penguin snorted.  “They probably have enough of your blood to keep someone alive at this point.”

“They should give it back to me,” you joked, taking another generous sip of your water.

The man across from you closed his small paper menu, having decided what he was going to order when the waitress came back.  “So how’s Law been doing?  I feel like I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

You grinned at the question.  “He’s been alright, he’s been pretty stressed too over this, but I think he’s been able to distract himself with his shifts at the hospital.  He’s been working more since he got home from his trip, I think he’s trying to make up for being gone for a week.”

Penguin laughed.  “Sounds like him, alright.”  He rested his own head in his hand.  “If you really are pregnant, and everything is going normally, do you think he’ll take more time off?”

A sigh left your lips.  “It’s wishful thinking, but I honestly doubt it.  And it’s not his fault, he just works a really time-consuming and taxing job.  It’s hard for both of us, but when he is home he makes all the time in the world for me.  And because he has such long working days, sometimes he gets multiple days off in a row, which is nice.”

“That’ll be nice for the baby, too,” Penguin added.

Your heart swelled at the thought.  Ever since having your eggs implanted, your mind had been melting with thoughts of Law’s paternal side coming out.  You couldn’t wait to see the way he’d hold his child, kissing their forehead, cleaning them in a tiny baby bathtub, singing to them as they fell asleep even though he hated being heard singing by anyone.  The mere thoughts made your thighs clench.  Some hormonal instinct in you to see your man become a father, you guessed.

“It would be nice,” you added, your voice airy.  It was like you were floating on a blissful cloud.

Penguin laughed at the sight.  “God, you’re smitten.  It’s fucking adorable.”

You hid your face in your hands to mask your embarrassment, making your friend bark out a laugh at your sorry state.  The waitress returned in due time, taking your small orders before leaving again with your menus.  You were starting to have deja vu from your brunch with Ikkaku before your second miscarriage.

The thought of your own best friend gave you a thought.

“Hey, so I have a question for you,” you blurted, attracting his attention.

He took a sip of his own water and gazed at you through his narrow brown eyes.

“Have you told Shachi that you like him yet, or are you two ‘still just roommates’?” you asked, holding up your fingers in air quotes to punctuate your words.

The statement made Penguin groan as he pulled his hat further down onto his head, hiding his eyes with a thick shadow.  “No.  I don’t know what he’ll say.”

You smiled sympathetically at the man.  You, Law, and Ikkaku had been rooting for Penguin ever since he broke up with your best friend after your college graduation with your bachelor’s degrees, realizing he was gay the entire time.  The terms were mutual, as Ikkaku began dating a woman soon after, but Penguin moved in with Shachi and was convinced he’d never find love after finding himself so late in life.  But then he fell for Shachi… and fell hard.

“I guess I’m just worried that things will be too awkward if I tell him now that we’ve been living together as roommates for, like, five years,” he explained.  “I’m already paying half of the rent.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began.  “Shachi’s been talking about you a lot more.  Like, a lot.”

Penguin picked his head up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  “Really?”

You nodded.  “I wouldn’t lie to you about love, Pen, you know me.”

The man across from you leaned back in his chair.  “What if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then you talk it out like adults and continue being roommates,” you stated.  “Simple.  Easy-peasy.”

“You make it sound easier than it looks,” he grumbled, but a small smile lay on his lips.  “You and Law had it easy.”

“Bullshit.  Law hated me when we first met.”

The memory made the two of you chuckle.  Law’s unwillingness to open up, how it took him almost an entire year to admit that he could possibly be in love, and be in love with you, the snarky graphic design student who infiltrated his gen ed study group.

And now here you were, a wedding ring on your left hand and hoping so desperately for a child with him.

Penguin was grinning widely at you, making you falter.  “What’s got you smiling so wide?”

Your friend dropped his hand.  “Just thinking about how proud I am of you two.”

Before you had the chance to reply, or even register your heart doing somersaults in your chest, your phone began vibrating on the table.  You snatched it up with the speed of a falcon diving for a mouse, your eyes growing wide at the number on the screen.  The lab.  Penguin knew without you even having to speak.

“Hello?” you asked wearily into the receiver.

[Hello, is this Mrs. Trafalgar?  This is Nurse Nojiko from the outpatient laboratory.]

You nodded to no one in particular.  “Yes, this is her.”

[Perfect, I wanted to inform you that the results of your test have come back positive!  I have updated your patient portal with the information, and you should be receiving a call from your doctor within the next day or so.]

Your heart swelled.  “Th-Thank you so much!”

[Of course, hun, have a great rest of your day, alright?]

You promptly shared your goodbyes before you tapped the end call button, placing your device back down on the table.  Your wide eyes darted up to meet Penguin’s.  He was already smiling.

“Positive?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“Positive,” you confirmed.

He had absolutely no care in the world if he caused a scene.  He bolted upright from his chair and dragged you out of your’s, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that made you stifle a yelp due to the pressure on your chest.  

You frantically whispered into his ear.  “Penguin, my boobs hurt like shit.”

“Crap,” he pulled away from you, holding your shoulders.  “I’m sorry!”

You were giggling as you had to resist the urge to fondle your breasts in public, trying to get the pain to die down based on willpower alone.  “It’s okay, they’ve been really sore lately.”

“Is that a symptom of pregnancy?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

You pursed your lips for a moment.  “I think so, but I’m still trying not to get my hopes up.  The last two times, they never got as sore as they are now.”

Penguin flashed a toothy grin.  “I’m considering that a win.”

You smiled to yourself, still fighting the anxious pang in your heart.  You grabbed your phone once more to send Law a text message.  He was scheduled for a very large and very taxing surgery for the day, so you were sure he wouldn’t respond until much later, but you eagerly sent the text anyway.

Hi baby, im out for lunch with Peng.  The fifth test came back positive, i just got the call!!!  Im still going to lay low for a bit because my tits hurt for shit.  I love you, i’ll call you if anything urgent comes up but dont feel pressured to respond if youre busy!  I love you again!!!  Love you!!!!

—

Law’s circulating nurse had his passcode memorized at this point.  When his phone buzzed in her pocket, he simply gave her permission to check it with a curt nod, barely tearing his eyes away from the open chest cavity in front of him.

The anesthesiologist beside the patient saw the way the nurse’s eyes lit up while reading whatever message had come through.  “What does it say?”

“Doctor,” she began, her smile reaching her ears.  “Your wife’s fifth test came back positive.”

The entire operating room buzzed with muted excitement at the news, keeping their attention focused on the patient, but clearly radiating with optimism.  Law had been keeping his team up-to-date with his progress on what his nurses called ‘The Kid Conundrum,’ and seeing his entire crew quietly celebrate over the news of your latest positive test made a smile crawl to his lips below his surgical mask.

“Attention on the patient,” he stated.

The entire team could hear the broad smile in his voice.

—

Seven positive pregnancy tests, and almost eight weeks since your implantation day.  You and Law were in a different ultrasound room in a different clinic, due to Robin being out of office for the week with her husband (a thought that made Law cower).  You were laying on the cold, unfamiliar table as Law sat across the room from you, the usual set up.  He had the entire week off of work, which he had been spending glued to your side.  Your symptoms had been fairly taxing lately, your breasts being more tender than they had ever been.  You had even started swelling somewhat in your lower belly, but partnered with general morning discomfort, you chalked it up to regular pregnancy bloating.

Not that you were complaining about any of the symptoms.  If anything, they were relieving.  Signs that you were actually pregnant… with a living fetus.

You stared at the ceiling as the gel was smeared on your belly and as the sound of the ultrasound machine whirred to life.  The technician doing your scan was sitting on a swiveling stool as she worked, another nurse behind her to help assess your condition.

“So how many weeks along does your doctor think you are?” she asked, keeping her eyes glued to the screen as she pressed the transducer to your skin, locating your uterus.

“About eight weeks or so, I think,” you replied.

She nodded, going silent as she rubbed the wand over your belly.  She adjusted it slightly, then moved it again.  The nurse behind her appeared to lean in toward the screen, her eyes growing wide.

Their silence made your heart rate begin to pick up.

“You said you had IVF, right?” she asked.

Growing even more anxious, you nodded against the pillow behind your head.  “Yes… that’s correct.”

Law leaned over in his chair to try to get a glimpse of the monitor screen.

The wand was moved over your skin a few extra times before the nurse reached up and turned the monitor toward you.  Her finger hovered over your uterus.  “Do you see that?”

You gazed at the screen, slowly picking apart what you were viewing.

The outline of your uterus was there, clear as day, or as clear as it could be through an ultrasound image.  Inside of your uterine bubble, however, sat two black splotches, each with a tiny white speck inside.

Law stood from his chair, his eyes blown wide.

“Mrs. Trafalgar, there's two babies in there.”

[percervall]

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt8}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: angst, descriptions of a crash, mentions of religious trauma Word count: 1246 Taglist: @ashy-kit @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount@doofenshmirtzevil-inc @exotic-iris13 @goldsainz @iloveneteyam @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @monzamash @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj @szobosz @topguncultleader@vellicora @ystrolllll 

Part 8 of the Mamma Mia series

After Japan, you operate on auto-pilot, the days all blurring into one. At work, your colleagues leave you be, however, your best friend sees right through you, especially after you cancel on her for a third day in a row. So Jasmine does what any best friend would do: she lets herself into your apartment with the key you had given her, only to find you curled up on the couch, staring into space as the sun sets, drowning you in twilight. She forces you to get changed out of your work clothes while she puts the kettle on.

“Talk to me. This is not like you,” Jasmine says, putting a mug in front of you.

“I don’t even know where to start..” you mumble.

“Start with what’s got you so heartbroken that you’ve become a recluse,” Jasmine offers. You shrug, feeling another wave of tears threatening to spill.

“I broke my own heart. I should never have agreed to their plan,” you say. You tell her all about the last couple of weeks, about the dates they had been taking you on. About how you tried so very hard to not fall in love.

“But I did. I fell harder than I think I ever have.”

“How does that lead to you breaking your own heart? Shouldn’t you be over the moon and disgustingly in love with your man?” Jasmine asks you.

“How can I be happy when I love all three of them?” you throw out, a sob wrecking through your body as you bury your face in your hands, “I am such a greedy whore for wanting all of them,” you whisper.

“No. Stop that right now,” Jasmine says, moving her chair next to yours and pulling you against her chest.

“Sometimes I really curse your parents for the religious trauma they subjected you to. Babe, we’ve talked about this. There is nothing wrong with being a slut or a whore, as you put it, as long as it is your choice to be called that term. Nothing wrong with a little consensual degradation in the bedroom. But loving more than one person does not make you a whore. It makes you polyamorous,” Jasmine responds, rubbing a hand down your back. 

“P-poly-what now?” you ask as you look up at her.

“Polyamorous. Oh babe, for someone with a double master’s degree, you really are clueless sometimes. It means someone who’s in a relationship with more than one person at a time. It just means you love differently than the heteronormative norm.”  

You’re quiet for a moment, letting your friend’s words sink in. She’s hit the nail on the head with her comment about your parents. You went no contact years ago, but your religious upbringing sometimes still haunts you even now that you’re an adult and no longer believe in the church as an institution. A tiny spark of hope flickers alive in your heart at the knowledge that there is a world in which you don’t have to choose between them, before it gets squashed by the realisation that you might have burnt that bridge before you even got to cross it. 

“What if it’s too late?’ you voice your biggest worry out loud, “What if they don’t want me anymore?” 

“Unfortunately there is only one way to find out. You gotta talk to them.”

Jasmine made it seem so easy, but finding the time to do so is proving difficult during the next race weekend. Due to the sprint race, the weekend is even busier than normal. By the time Sunday comes around you are convinced it won’t happen. Kevin seems to be avoiding you —and you can’t blame him for that—, Lewis is busy preparing for two races, and Mark is filming for Channel4. You throw yourself into your work, trying your hardest not to think about how your chest constricts every time you catch a glimpse of any of them on the screens in the garage. It’s not until Sunday’s race has well and truly started that you can’t use work as an excuse anymore. The latest bits of sim data have already been analysed so you really have no reason to stay in your office. You hide away in the back of the garage, out of sight for most of the cameras but you have a clear view on the screen with the F1 world feed. Your chest feels tight with anxiety for this race; the heat has been brutal for everyone involved and the tyre management put in place by Pirelli doesn’t fill you with confidence either. 

The first 30 or so laps go by relatively smoothly, but just as you allow yourself to exhale for the first time in what feels like an hour, things go horribly, horribly wrong. Logically you know the whole thing won’t have lasted for much longer than several minutes, but it feels like everything slows down as you watch one of the RedBulls collide into Lewis’ car while trying to overtake in the straight between corners 15 and 16, sending the latter spinning into the barrier on the right before getting bounced to the other side of the track like a ping pong ball before it comes to standstill against the wall. The RedBull tries to correct its own course but can’t help losing control again and sends the Haas that was behind them into the gravel where something seems to snap from the back of the car, causing the driver to lose complete control and slamming sideways into the barriers. Miraculously, the RedBull remains on the track, although it’s obvious the car has some major front wing damage, and makes it into the pitlane without much of a fuss. You keep watching the screen breathlessly, hoping for any signs of movement while you vaguely hear Lewis’ engineer ask Lewis if he’s okay. Instead of confirmation, it remains quiet. Your chest feels too tight to catch your breath as panic claws its way up your throat when you realise that the Haas currently in the barriers is Kevin. Ripping your headset off, you make your way outside and into the pitlane. Air, you need air. Leaning against the wall, you inhale deeply, trying to use the breathing techniques from yoga to calm down. They’re gone, your brain very unhelpfully supplies and you cover your mouth with a hand to stifle the scream that’s threatening to come out. You hear someone talking to you but the words don’t register as his body blocks you from view. Looking up, you see Mark’s concerned face looking back at you and the realisation that Lewis and Kev got hurt hits you all over again. A sob wrecks through you as your knees buckle.

“I’ve got you,” Mark murmurs, pulling your body against his. “They’re gone and I-.. I will never get to tell them-.. Mark-..” you sob into his chest. Mark rubs a hand down your back, letting you cry into his shirt as he tries to sooth you. You thought the heartache you felt after Suzuka was bad, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You can’t breathe, can’t think; the only thought going through your head is how this baby will never get to see their dads, how you lost the loves of your life and that you will never even get the chance to tell them that, how it’s all your fault. And that thought rips you apart all over again.

For maximum emotional damage, may I suggest playing Gracie Abrams' Cedar on loop while reading this? Because that song broke me

@curiousthyme this chapter would not be what it is without you, so thank you

Please let me know what you think. Your comments, tags and likes mean the world to me 💜

[lavendersuh]

oh my, oh my god 단 너뿐이야

johnny x female reader | college!au, strangers to lovers | 3.9k words

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of alcohol and partying

after a much needed kpop hiatus, i am back and more delusional than ever :D i have so many ideas and wips rn... can't wait to share more with y'all! i would like to dedicate this fic to @sehunniepot bc nikki has been right there next to me in my delusion and been a huge motivation to get back into writing eeee i hope u enjoy!! *title is from "omg" by newjeans!!*

༻ ✧✧✧ ༺

oh my, oh my god, 예상했어 나

i was really hoping that he will come through...

༻ ✧✧✧ ༺

“Just go for it! If it goes horribly, you can blame being drunk and pretend it never happened at all!”

You looked back at your friend, grinning lazily at you from the couch she was perched on. She was a lot more extraverted than you in general, but with alcohol in her system? She was capable of anything.

You? You, you maybe not so much.

With another glance over at the man messing around with the sound system spreading music throughout the house, you saw he was deep in concentration. One hand typed on the laptop keyboard while the other held a red solo cup you assumed held some type of alcohol. His hair was falling in his face as he gazed at the screen, and he wore a shirt tucked into jeans. He looked good in those jeans. 

You flushed at the thought of going over to talk to him, but your friends seemed determined to encourage you to go for it. They had been on a long spiel about how you weren’t ever going to date anyone if you only waited around for others to make a move. You could make the first move! You just feared making a fool of yourself in front of someone you would see two days a week for the rest of the semester. 

Johnny Suh sat three rows behind you in your Monday-Wednesday English lecture, and he probably had to be the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. 

Okay, that was most likely an exaggeration, but he was a beautiful man. Tall, dark hair, and a good sense of style was the perfect combination for attraction to bloom. You felt giddy just thinking about him.

Too bad you didn’t really know anything about him other than the fact that he sat in the same seat every single week. 

He looked different in this atmosphere though. He seemed more relaxed, and since he was messing around with the music system like he knew exactly what he was doing even with a little alcohol in his system, you assumed he belonged to this frat and lived in this house. You had once seen him walk into class with a fraternity symbol across his sweatshirt, but you were never good at remembering what all those Greek symbols meant. 

While he looked more relaxed, seeing Johnny in a non-academic setting was also extremely intimidating. You were only a few drinks in, mildly tipsy at best, but the alcohol made you warm, and even the idea of not being sober gave you a little confidence. Maybe you could do this.

You could walk over there and make conversation. Get to know him. You could maybe even ask him out for coffee or lunch before class one day. Like your friend said, if things go south, you could always blame the alcoholic atmosphere of a Saturday night frat party. 

“Okay,” you said, as you watched your friends raise their eyebrows at you, “I’ll go do it. Maybe get me a drink just in case it doesn’t go well.” 

Your two friends cheered as you turned around to walk through the small crowd to Johnny. Moving around made you realize you were a little more drunk than you had thought while sitting down, but you were determined at this point. The alcohol would hopefully make you a little loose, break you out of your shell a little bit. 

Johnny took a drink from his red cup as he surveyed the upcoming queued songs for the next hour. Once you were only a few steps away from him, you slowed down as your nerves kicked into high gear. There was a pang of anxiety that shot through your chest at the thought of actually talking to him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

You were three seconds from turning around when his gaze found yours. You must have looked like a deer in headlights in the dimly illuminated air of the frat house, but getting noticed gave you a little spike of determination.

“Hey,” you spoke up as you stepped a little closer, “Johnny, right?” Not the best start, but at least it was something.

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a slightly suspicious look. It made you realize he probably had no clue who the fuck you were. There were over a hundred people in your class, and it was actually extremely likely that he had never noticed you before.

The alcohol running warm in your veins kept you going though. “I’m Y/N. We’re in the same English class.” 

You offered up a small smile, hoping you don’t seem weird as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. His eyes changed a little and you could tell that he at least recognized the academic correlation.

“Oh, hi.” 

It was clear that he was still sort of lost on why you were talking to him. You knew you needed to play it off to lessen the damage and actually attempt to make a conversation out of this interaction. He was just so nice-looking, it made you sort of just want to stare at him in admiration for the rest of the night.

“Um, sorry I came up to you, I don’t normally do this,” you explained to him, “I’ve just seen you around, and I’m a few drinks in, and my friends told me to stop waiting for shitty dudes to approach me— I should go up to them; it's a whole thing.”

You knew you had a tendency to ramble sometimes, but at least you were talking— at least something was happening. You reminded yourself that talking about something, anything, was better than just being silent. 

The only issue was, rambling was not the best way to communicate.

“Are you calling me a shitty dude?” he asked, giving you a raised brow.

The panic settled in, and you knew your eyes grew wide from how he was looking at you right now. It only lasted a moment before his face broke out into a lighthearted grin.

“I’m just joking around,” he stated, tucking his hands into his jeans, “So what’s this ‘whole thing’ about the shitty guys anyways?”

You were flooded with relief that he was only kidding around, and also that you might actually have a chance at a conversation, no matter how strange it was.

“Oh, well I haven’t really dated anyone for that long, and it's because I always date the dudes that approach me, and I’m never attracted to any of them. So it never goes anywhere,” you explained in what was most likely too much detail. “My one friend saw this TikTok that was like, you need to go up to people you like if you want to be with someone you’re actually attracted to.”

“So… you’re attracted to me?” Johnny replied.

You felt yourself tense at his words, finding yourself flustered under his gaze that had suddenly become a bit more intense than you had remembered it being a few minutes ago. You felt like you could melt under his stare, and you knew your mouth was probably open in bewilderment. You coughed lightly to clear your throat, moving your gaze to somewhere on the wall behind him to avoid his eyes for a moment.

“Uhh, yeah, I, uh, have a classroom crush on you,” you stated, trying to keep your voice steady. Maybe if you faked your way to confidence, he wouldn’t notice the way you felt like your heart might explode from your chest with how wildly it was beating.

Johnny leaned back against the wall you both had been standing near, letting a lazy smile come over his face. “And what’s a classroom crush?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was enjoying himself but humoring him anyways, “You know. When you think someone’s cute in your class but you don’t really know anything about them because all you see is them in class.”

At the mention of class, you recalled the fact that after this encounter you would have to walk into class on Monday and see this man in front of you. The idea filled you with embarrassment. You had been slowly digging your own grave, and you were suddenly letting your eyes wander, thinking of a way to just get out of this without embarrassing yourself more.

Johnny made a noise of understanding, drawing your attention back to him, “Oh yeah, I get that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you, “I actually have a classroom crush, too.”

“Oh?” 

Oh.

“Mhm,” he nodded as he rubbed his hand over his chin for a brief moment, “There’s this girl in my Monday-Wednesday lecture. She sits a few rows in front of me, but she occasionally turns around a little bit and sometimes I catch her staring at me. She’s so cute when she looks away all embarrassed about it.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized, fuck, oh fuck, that’s you, fuck, he noticed you.

“Oh yeah?” you gulped out. You looked down at his drink, “Can I have some of that?”

He offered the cup to you, letting out a mention that it was strong, but you took a big drink anyways, relishing in the way the alcohol burned going down. You looked back up to see him with a small, little smile on his face directed at you, as he watched you with an amused gleam in his eye.

You swore his smile could melt your insides entirely. “So,” he began, “What happens with a classroom crush, typically?”

The liquid courage from the alcohol had your mouth talking before your brain could really keep up with it.

“I usually just daydream and make up scenarios in my head during class to waste time, and then it kinda fizzles out after a while, usually when the semester is over.”

How were you acting so calm when you felt like you should be freaking the fuck out on the inside. Have you really been saying all of these things out loud? Your words came to an abrupt halt as you stared up at the man just a bit away from you. 

“Have you ever thought about asking the person out?” Johnny asked, his words coming out with a little teasing in his tone. 

You smiled weakly at him, “I guess that’s what I was trying to do with this whole conversation, but I’m just very bad at this.”

Johnny let out a little laugh. “I think you’re doing great. We are talking after all, aren’t we?”

You were grateful that he seemed to not be rejecting you, but you were curious as to what was going on in his head.

“I’m being so dumb right now,” you laughed it off, “I can at least partially blame the alcohol, but I’m just new to this. Hopefully it makes your night a little more interesting.”

“Yeah, you are interesting.” he paused for a seemingly dramatic effect, leaning in closer to you, “I like it.”

He smiled as he glanced from you to the laptop next to him. You had forgotten about the laptop, and the music, and even the party and people around you. You felt lost in the conversation that was happening between the two of you. 

He crouched on the floor to look better at the laptop that was set up on the low table, and he motioned for you to join him. All that was on the screen was the music queue, but you leaned in a little too close to get a better look at the words on the screen. 

Getting so close to the screen also meant being nearer to Johnny, and when you looked over at him, your faces were closer than you had thought they were. Being so close, you could smell his cologne. The new scent registered in your brain, and it made you realize just how much you had learned about Johnny in the past few minutes.

You had clearly been the one talking more, but you were kind of proud of yourself for even getting this far. You had never really talked to one of your classroom crushes outside of class, not even for group presentations, and being in Johnny’s presence just made you like him even more.

“Do you wanna keep making my night interesting?” he asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Oh!” His words bring out your flustered state again, and you jump back and stand up from where you both had been crouching on the floor. “Um, I’m not really comfy doing anything like that tonight--”

“No!” he interrupted, standing up as well while rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean it like that…. Just, do you want to keep hanging out? I think the guys set up beer pong outside so you could come watch with me?”

As you saw Johnny sputtering a bit from the mix-up, you felt yourself calm down knowing that he was also capable of being thrown off his rhythm. His words ignited butterflies in your stomach. 

“Yeah, sure!”

“Do you, uh, want to go talk to your friends real quick?” he gestured over to your friends across the room, and you looked over to see them trying hard to seem like they weren’t watching the entire encounter, even though they clearly were. You flushed with wide eyes, embarrassed that they were being so obvious. 

“Um, yeah,” you tried to laugh it off, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”

He gave you a reassuring smile, “Sure.”

You walked over to your friends, who were all grinning at you like idiots and letting out a few victory cheers. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel happy seeing how goofy and supportive your friends were being. They attacked you with an array of questions.

“Tell us everything!”

“Does he seem interested?”

“Did you ask him out?”

“I keep making a fool of myself,” you replied, “But he doesn’t seem put off by it— I think he might think I’m cute.”

“Yes you are!” one of your friends said, “And he’s so hot!!” 

She pinched your cheeks and you ducked away, rolling your eyes at their drunken antics. You bid them goodbye and slipped through the party to find the kitchen. 

Johnny stood over by the fridge, sipping from a beer can and smiled when his eyes met yours. He offered you a drink, and you accepted a seltzer from the fridge. He gestured toward the back deck, leading you through the back door with his hand on the small of your back. The light touch didn’t go unnoticed, leaving your cheeks warm despite the cold air. 

The two of you stood near the railing to watch a few guys play pong. You sipped your seltzer, aware of Johnny’s arm brushing yours as he greeted others hanging around the game.

Johnny was completely at ease here, leaning against the railing with his arm almost around you, his hand brushing your waist. It almost felt like this was a normal occurrence for the both of you. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he did this often. You watched the game and the people around you silently for a while, basking in the world of Johnny and his friends that you somehow got wrapped up in, even just for a moment.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Johnny slid his arm up to the small of your back. His hand was big and warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 

He ducked down closer to your ear, “Hey, you okay?”

His eyes peered into yours, a look of genuine interest crossing his face. You smiled back at him. 

“Yeah, I just haven’t been to a party in a while,” you replied, hoping your nerves can be explained away. He didn’t need to know how affected you were by his casual touches.

“Nothing a drink can’t fix,” he said, clinking your cans together with a silly grin on his face. It seemed he knew you were nervous, as he experimented with his touch and kept you close without being overbearing. His casual nature made you even more relaxed.

You went back to watching the increasingly intense game of beer pong, but it was hard to concentrate when you could feel Johnny’s fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You snuck a look up at him, and while he wasn’t looking down at you, his mouth perked into a smile like he knew you were watching. 

The game started to come to a close, with the crowd of people getting bigger and more rowdy. You turned your attention back to the game, watching as one of the guys sank the last cup, leading to an up-roar of cheers on the deck. You couldn’t help but cheer alongside everyone, raising your drink before taking a big sip.

Unfortunately for you, one of the more inebriated partygoers fell backwards into you, causing your drink to spill all over the front of your shirt. The guy didn’t even seem to notice you break his fall, standing up and running back into the crowd, leaving you with a big stain across your chest. 

Johnny grasped your forearms, making sure you were upright and okay, his eyes scanning over you to make sure you weren’t hurt. 

“Hey, come on, I’ll get you cleaned up,” he says, tucking his arm around your shoulders to guide you through the crowd.

The party is still going strong inside the house, with loud music and dim lights illuminating the swirl of bodies you walk through. Johnny leads you upstairs, which is a lot quieter, despite a few people roaming in and out of rooms. He takes you into the bathroom, gesturing for you to hop on the counter. 

He takes a towel from the linen closet, gently dabbing at the stain on your collarbone. His other hand rests on the counter next to you, before resting lightly on your hip to hold you steady.

You don’t think you’ve let out a single breath since he began, watching his face knot into a look of concentration. You wonder if he can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest. Other than the faint pounding of distant music and the buzz of the overhead light, there isn’t a sound to be heard.

His face is so close, you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. A few strands of hair fall across his eyes and you find yourself wondering what those locks would feel like under your fingers. His hair looks soft.

You get caught up noticing how much he towers over you, distracted by your own thoughts as you gaze at him. You’re brought out of your reverie when his eyes catch yours, a smile appearing across his features. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing goosebumps to flutter up your spine. 

Johnny steps back and clears his throat, as if remembering himself. He looks down at his handiwork, his mouth quirking at the still-visible stain.

“I don’t think that stain’s coming out,” he says, “Hang on.”

He exits the bathroom for a moment, leaving you alone. You take a deep breath. This whole situation makes you feel like all the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

He reappears less than two minutes later, holding a slate gray shirt that clearly belongs to himself. 

“You can put this on if you want,” he says, holding the material out to you. 

You don’t notice the bashful look on his face at the gesture, as you immediately start taking off your shirt to put on the replacement. You do however catch a glimpse at the way Johnny respectfully tries to look anywhere but your torso until you have his shirt on. 

You smile sheepishly once the fabric touches your skin. The shirt is way too big, with the sleeves coming down almost to your elbows. It smells faintly of him, and you look up to see him staring at you intently. You watched as his eyes traveled down the length of you before coming back up and settling on your lips.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, breaking through the silence that had settled over the both of you. 

Johnny clears his throat, “Oh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “You just, uh, look really good in my shirt…”

You can tell that your face is warm, but his confession emboldens you to take a small step toward him, gazing up at his face through your eyelashes. He meets you in the middle, placing his hands gently on your waist as he leans down and brings his lips to meet yours.

You gasp into the kiss, letting every emotion wash over you. His hands are warm as they wrap around you, bringing you close. You rest your hands on his shoulders, letting them wander over the expanse of his chest. 

He deepens the kiss, and your hands drift up into his hair. You almost moan at how soft it is. Johnny must know you’re holding back, moving his mouth to kiss down your neck as his hands wander under your shirt to caress your torso. You moan when he starts sucking on the tender skin beneath your ear. 

He groans when he hears you let out the sound, lifting you up and setting you on the counter in a rush. He steps between your legs, as your lips meet again, his mouth swallowing your sounds as you try to get closer by wrapping your legs around him.

His hands are close to fondling with your bra under his shirt you’re wearing, and you can feel the bulge in his pants as you let yourself grind against him.

“Johnny…” you mumble between kisses, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. The mumble of his name spurs him on.

You break apart eventually, breathing heavily as you gaze at his swollen lips. You can’t even imagine what you must look like at the moment. 

Johnny slowly removes himself from you and steps back to adjust his jeans with a sheepish look on his face. When he looks back up at you, it’s with a smile. 

“We should probably stop here,” he suggests, remembering how you mentioned not wanting to go too far tonight. “At least for now.”

You nod, your heart beating fast at the implication of seeing more of him in the future. He combs his fingers through your hair a bit to help make you more presentable, before reaching for your hand. 

The two of you head back downstairs, into the chaos of the party, and you find your friends dancing in the living room. They wave and let out some wolf whistles when they see you walking down the stairs hand-in-hand. 

You look back at Johnny, and he grins at your friends’ silly behavior, watching as they call you over. 

“It’s cool, I’m gonna go check the music queue,” he says, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go, “I’ll see you in class, yeah?”

You return his smile, “Yeah.”

“And maybe at the next party, too?” he asks with a hopeful tone. 

You nod before planting a quick kiss on his lips, leaving him speechless as you turn and slip into the crowd. 

When you reach your friends, you glance back to find Johnny back to the corner where you had first approached him. It almost felt like the last hour was a hazy dream, but when he looked up, his eyes found yours immediately, lingering with a small smile on his face. 

Not a dream, at all.

༻ ✧✧✧ ༺

[bellysoupset]

Hey Soup~

It's so nice to see you being active again 💞

For a mini fic idea: can we please get a snippet of Max' thoughts after Vince took care of him and they talked a little during that field trip?

As always, feel free to ignore if it's not good enough

(I'm going to come back and comment on so many things in your recent stories soon, but I saw your post about mini fics and thought "why not")

- 💜

Hi darling!! I hope life is treating you well! 💕

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

Max felt like he had just been run over by a truck. Physically and emotionally.

He had been so happy about the field trip, not only because at heart he was still a little bit of a kid and really enjoyed all the jumping and running around, but because he had been invited by the kids, unlike other teachers. He was the teacher they trusted, the one they came to for college recommendations and letters, the one that they weren't shy about asking for extra credit or opening up about problems at home. Max was proud of this.

So it had been a blow to his ego to be bed ridden for all of the trip, entirely at Monacelli's mercy. He had missed out in a lot of shenanigans, had only heard about them second hand by Vince during the last night at the hotel, when Max finally had been aware enough to ask questions. He hated the amount of vulnerability he had been forced to show, how much he had relied on Vince and he hated even more missing out in such a formative thing.

Then there was the matter of Vince.

Max slumped against his front door and slid down to the ground, without energy to walk all the way to his bedroom. He had been putting up a brave face for the past twelve hours in an effort to convince his coworker he didn't need a hospital and definitely didn't need a nanny, but it was taking its toll. He felt awful.

His stomach was gurgling unhappily, rejecting the saltine crackers he had been munching on since they left the hotel, eight hours before. His body was ravenous, his head cottony, his stomach sore and queasy and he felt really close to crying, because Max had never felt so incredibly lonely.

He had never felt so... Cared for as he had been in the last three days. It was pathetic and sad to even think it and Max let out a groan and uncurled from his position, deciding he'd rather lick his wounds in bed.

The blonde didn't bother showering, despite the fact he really should've. Instead he climbed up his bed with great effort and curled up under the blankets while still wearing his jeans and shoes, because he had no more strength. His head was throbbing and the minute he buried his nose in his pillow, his mind started drifting.

His mom telling him little kids shouldn't be pillaging their bodies with medicine - who knows what chemicals are in there? - and so the easiest way to end a fever was by riding through it.

Monacelli sitting on the ground next to his bed and playing tic tac toe because Max kept waking up every fifteen minutes thanks to the cramps, using his own pen to mark Max's Xs, "here? You sure about that, man?"

His parents yelling down the hall because his father had gotten him mcdonalds for breakfast instead of cooking and he had ended up throwing up in the school bus and the school nurse had called them. "You didn't have to go! They were just being dramatic, like they're always are! They call us every week!" "If none of us show twice in a row they'll call my job again James!"

"What are you gawking at?" Monacelli had asked on their second day there, once Max's fever had finally broke and he was able to sit up in bed, "you need anything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm not, really," Vince had shrugged, then crossed the room to put away his towel, shaking his wet hair and sending droplets Max's way, causing him to frown, "I just brought you dinner, relax."

"You brought me one of everything," Max had pointed out, nodding to his untouched plate. His stomach still felt iffy and he didn't want to risk his luck once the heaving had finally ceased.

"I don't know what you can eat or not, you said your stomach is sensitive," Vince had gestured to the plate, "you're not gonna eat?"

"Not hungry," Max had curled up further, feeling more than a little woozy.

"Thirsty though? I can run to the kitchen as grab you a smoothie before they close, that might be easier on your belly."

"He's going to fail because of attendance," "he's failing because he doesn't apply himself, not because of attendance. He's always faking sick, always skipping class, anything in the world not to study." "With the stellar role model he's had, it's a wonder" "Not everything wrong with him is my fault, Maya." "Most of it is."

A horrible ringing interrupted his drifting away and Max pushed through the fog, trying to identify the noise. He reached for his phone in the bedside table, then groaned when he didn't find it. His jeans, his pocket...

He clumsily tried to hang up when the number was unknown, but instead took the call and Max groaned loudly, before barking "What?"

"Hey, it's Vince," the other teacher's cheerful voice was the last thing Max wanted to hear, maybe for the rest of his days. It felt... Soothing. Like a cold compress against a feverish forehead, where the better it feels, the worse you are, "was wondering if you got home safe, you looked a little pasty in the parking lot."

"I'm fine," Max grumbled, "just need to sleep the ick off."

"Alright, I'll let you sleep," he could almost see Vince shrugging, had gotten well acquainted with it in the past three days, "save my number and you can text if you need anything. Really, uh- Your house is on the way, just holler." It wasn't, Max had dropped Vince and that friend of his at Monacelli's little house once, their places were close but Vin's was in the opposite direction of traffic.

"Thanks, dude."

"No problem," Vince's voice went up a note, all cheerful, "feel better!"

Max nodded, then realized the man couldn't see him, so he cleared his throat and grumbled, "yeah, thanks" before hanging up quickly. He let the phone fall back on his chest, then let out a sigh.

He was falling for the guy, that was great.

[iamthecomet]

Dismiss Your Demons

AKA: Kinktober Day 28 - Sounding

Rating: E Pairing: Cirrus/Dew Featuring: Service Dom Cirrus. Soft Dom Cirrus. Sub Dew. He's a tiny bit of a brat if you squint, but not really. He just likes giving Cirrus shit. Sounding. Character development cleverly disguised as porn. Aftercare (in the form of cuddles). Word Count: 3.1k. I did not read through this after I wrote it, so it is what it is, friends. I hope it makes sense. Read it on AO3.

Or under the cut.

Dew can’t think . He’s sweating. It’s pooling low on his back. He twitches his fingers where he has them pinned there. Wishing for something, anything, to flip through his fingers. 

He loves Cirrus. 

But Satanas does she make him nervous.  Especially with this look on her angular face. A crooked smile. Movements too easy, body too loose. He’s well and truly fucked.  That’s what he gets for telling her he needed to get out of his head and she could do anything.   It’s been a long week. A brutal few days on the road that have left all of them snapping at each other. Even Papa has had enough. Bad weather, bus problems, hotel mix-ups, three terrible catering companies in a row. They’ve all had enough.  Dew looks across the hotel room and longs for his bed at home. For dark abbey hallways, and candle light, and the smell of incense. He is sick of fluorescent lighting and white walls and low pile carpet. He digs his toes into it anyway, dissatisfied. 

He watches Cirrus as she flits around the room. Movements loose. More relaxed than she has any right to be given everything that’s been going on. But maybe it isn’t bothering her as much as it is Dew. She comes off as type A for sure. A control freak. But she’s more flexible than he is. Waves off problems and stupid tour bullshit with a shrug as if to say “oh well it happened, let’s move on.” 

She’s always reminded him of Aether in that way. Certainly the person they look for leadership, but because of their flexibility rather than the rigidness of someone like Dew who needs things to be right or he will feel like his skin is too small. 

That’s how he feels right now, watching Cirrus bounce around the room. Feeling like he’s just put his life in her hands. He takes a deep, breathe out. Frowns when his exhale comes out a little smokey. Tinged with anxiety. Cirrus notice, dark brows furrowing. She frowns a little at him–worried. 

“We won’t do anything you won’t like,” she reassures him. She fusses with her hair. Scrubbing her manicured nails over the shaved side. Her fingernails are electric blue, blunt like always. No deadly manicures like Aurora or Cumulus. No stiletto nails dragging over the head of his dick tonight. As pretty as that is–he’s ok with it. 

“You said something new,” he says. Allows himself this moment of vulnerability. Cirrus tilts her head at him. 

“You really are stuck aren’t you?” 

Dew grimaces. He hates it sometimes. The way she reads him like a book–all of them. So much like Aether. That’s probably why he pulled her aside after the show instead of someone else. Seeking a grounding touch someone to pull him back to earth without him really having to ask for it. 

“I want to go home,” he says. It sounds stupid. He shrugs. Doesn’t move, back straight, fingers still twitching behind his back. Knuckles flexing over the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 

“I can’t help you with that.” Cirrus sits on edge of the bed, pets the spot next to her. Dew drops down next to her. He presses his elbows into his thighs, he digs his fingers into his scalp until it hurts. Cirrus pulls him apart, uncurls him. Cool fingers unclenching his from his hair. She leans in, bumps her horns against his. 

“Enough of that,” she chides. “Aether will kill me if you come home bald.” 

Dew’s lips twitch upward. “Should shave it. Just to spite him. Punishment for abandoning us.” 

Cirrus ruffles his hair. “Don’t even think about it, firefly.” 

She presses her forehead against his. He breathes in deep, inhaling the fresh cotton smell of her. Cool and clean. He closes his eyes, nuzzles his face against her, horns bumping together. 

“Take care of me,” he says, finally. “Please.” 

“You’ll let me try something new?” 

He nods. “Anything.” 

Cirrus stands. Dew feels her vacancy in his bones. He turns his head, opens his eyes to watch her riffling through her bag. She produces a small leather case. She starts to unzip it and Dew feels his mouth go dry already. 

Not so new then. 

“Cir, that’s not–I’ve–”

Her eyes flash, so light blue they’re almost white. She grins at him, too many fangs. A chill rolls up his spine, and he swallows the rest of his words. 

“I know you’ve done this before. I’ve heard all about what you do when you’re alone with a fire.” 

Dew groans, he rolls his eyes. Tipping back onto the bed dramatically. Hair fanning out around his head. “Fucking Swiss .” “Why don’t you ever ask me to come see?” 

Dew flushes, he can’t help it. He covers his face to hide it. “You don’t usually like to just watch.” 

Dew hears the zipper on the case. The clink of metal. He shudders. Chubbing up in his jeans already. Anticipation thruming through him from sound alone. He has the vague realization that he is like a trained dog. Conditioned into arousal by the idea of sounding rods. 

“I could be compelled. Especially since you stole a rod from me to do it. I’m still missing it, by the way.” 

“Sorry.” 

Cirrus kicks one of his feet where it’s planted on the shitty carpet. Knocking his legs a little further apart so she can step between them. He feels the swell of her thighs between his. He moves his arm, looks up at her, towering over him, flipping one glinting rod through her fingers. 

“You’re not. Don’t lie.” 

Dew sits up. Reaches for her. She allows it. Allows him to put his hands on her waist, the curve of it. To slip his warm hands under her over-sized t-shirt and touch her ever-cool skin. 

“I’ll give it back when we get home.” 

Cirrus rolls her eyes instead of calling his bluff. “Strip.” 

“Don’t I get a kiss first?” 

“Brat,” she admonishes, but bends down and kiss him anyway. Full lips pressed against his. Cool. She tastes like red wine, black raspberries. He chases in, tongue sliding over hers. Taking one hand from her waist to lace in the longer side of her hair. Fingers carding through impossibly soft strands. 

She pulls back and Dew chases her lips. His cock twitches against his thigh, more than chubby now. He reaches down to adjust, gives himself a small squeeze just before Cirrus bats his hand away. 

“I asked you to do something, Firefly.” 

Dew hauls his shirt over his head, tosses it somewhere and gets to work on his belt. He shoves his and boxers down in one motion and kicks them away.

Cirrus sinks down, kneeling between his spread legs, a bottle of lube and the set of sounding rods between her knees. 

She’s right this is new. Cirrus doesn’t kneel for him. Only has ever bottomed for him when she’s been in heat. The look she gives him–cast up through long eyelashes–goes right to his dick. His stomach flips. She smooths a cool hand up over his thigh. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” she says softly. Running a blunt nail down the seam of his balls. He twitches. Digs his teeth into his cheek.  

“Never,” Dew gasps out with a shake of his head. He knows, even on her knees, Cirrus is in charge.  She’s just so pretty like this, gorgeous. Sitting low, legs tucked under her ass. Shoulders pressed between Dew’s knees. 

He slips a hand up his stomach to tug at a nipple ring as she drags her palm over the hard line of his cock. Soft hands feather light over his skin. He groans, as she palms at him, one hand after another over the underside of his cock where it curves up toward his stomatch. Not circling, more petting than anything. Just enough pressure to brush the wet tip over his sparse happy trail. 

“Lay back,” she says. The words are soft but there is no mistaking them for anything but an order.  “Let me help.” 

Dew does. Falling back onto the bed like dead weight. Toes digging into the carpet as Cirrus pets him. She polishes the head, smears precum over the ruddy head. Dew digs his fangs into his lip until he tastes copper. 

“ Relax ” she orders again. “Let go.” 

It takes effort to loosen his jaw. To allow himself to groan as one of her hands dips lower to roll his balls between her deft fingers. He melts into the bed as she touches him. Works him up with slow easy movements. Cock twitching under her hands. Spitting precum onto her hands, his belly.

He winces when he whimpers, high and reedy. He hates it, but it’s gone now, already out of his mouth. It takes a minute, but eventually he feels the tension in his head start to unravel. Feels knots loosen. He stops hearing himself. Stops worrying about how desperate he sounds. How needy. How Rain can probably hear him from the next room over. 

Instead, he hopes Rain has his ear pressed to the wall to listen. Embarrassment fading with the rest of the day–the week. 

“Good boy,” Cirrus purrs. Dew’s floating by the time he hears her open the lube bottle. Disant. Brought down by gentle hands instead of harsh words. That’s new too. He’s hazy, glassy. Every stupid annoyance is distant, he can’t even think about them. Can’t think about anything except how Cirrus touches him. 

How her hands–too soft for all of the music she plays–feel on him. He would do anything for her to have her keep touching him like that.  

“Ready?” she purrs.  Dew nods. He slurs around a yes , and a please . Hips twitching up toward her hands. His eyes are closed tight. An arm thrown over his eyes, blush burning against his forearm. With the other hand he plucks at his nipples. Tugs on the bar. Rolls the pebbled nub through his fingers. A  little rough, the little bite of pain just adding to everything. 

Cirrus starts with the smallest rod. Dew jolts when the cold metal touches his slit, presses down. More newness. When he plays with himself the metal is always warm, burning hot usually. The cold in contrast to his own body temperature makes stars dance behind his eyes. 

Cirrus is uncharacteristically gentle with him. He’s more intune to it this way–expecting a shift. For her to start fucking the sounding rod into him with abandon. But instead she works it in slowly. She leaves it deep, opting to press her fingers along the underside of his cock instead. More petting strokes, rolling the rod inside of him. 

It only takes him two more minutes to need more . A bigger rod. For her to actually stroke him. For her to thrust that ice cold metal in and out of his body. To really give him something. But he should have known that Cirrus’ gentleness would be his downfall. 

They follow the same pattern. It’s all so slow, so easy. Dew’s hips flex up toward every touch. Whines bubbling out of his throat at every twitch. Cirrus coos at him, shushes him when he really starts to whine, to beg.  She kisses the inside of his thigh. His hip bones. Drags her free hand up over his legs his belly. “Give me a color, baby.” 

“Green. Just. More . I need more .” 

“But you’re doing so good.” 

Dew digs his claws into the comforter. He could scream. Pleasure burns low in his gut. A fire he doesn’t know how to feed, not enough kindling. Just enough fuel to flicker to life, but not enough to rage. Everything is sharp, intense. He shudders with it. Nerve alight. 

Dew props himself up on his elbow, dragging his arm away from his face, opening his eyes. The room is too bright. Cirrus is looking up at him from between his legs smirk still firmly in place. 

She’s up to the second largest rod now. Dew can see the way it bulges the underside of his cock. Cirrus runs a nail over it. Fingers catching on the piercing just below the head. Swiping over his frenulum with her thumb. He sobs at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Gasping in, breath catching. 

“Hey, firefly,” Cirrus says softly. She reaches up along the length of his body, sitting up on her knees to brush her fingers over his flushed cheeks, over his throat, his pounding pulse. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I want to cum.” 

“Not what I meant.” 

Dew sighs, whimpering as Cirrus twists the sounding rod. “Floaty. Fuck . Better. Please, Cir. At least let me see you. Give me something. ”

“Don’t be greedy,” Cirrus admonishes. “I’ve given you plenty.” Despite the words she leans back, pulls her hands away just long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Dew’s throat clicks when he swallows. Eyes dragging over her tits, her stomach. The curve of her waist. He wants to touch. Wants to lay back as she rides his face. Wants her to take everything from him. 

Cirrus scoffs at the look on his face. “You’re so easy.” 

Dew nods dumbly. Of course he is. Weak, always, to the power of Cirrus’ tits. 

“Make me cum?” he means for it to come out as a demand, but instead it’s a question. Breathless. 

Cirrus cocks a dark eyebrow. She lowers herself back, sitting on her heels. Her tits brushing his thighs as she goes, one dusky nipple dragging over his thigh. Dew wants to latch onto it with his mouth. Wants to suck it swollen. 

He licks his lips, tries not to stare too much and fails. 

“I’ll do anything.” 

Cirrus’ eyebrow stays up, her head tips. She pets his cock again, watching as it twitches and spits precum onto his stomach. There’s a puddle of it there now, slick and shiny. The head of his dick is swollen, nearly purple. Cirrus bends down, and swipes her tongue up along the underside, pressing down hard on the rod as she goes. 

Dew bucks up toward her mouth. Swears he’s going to burst into flames if she keeps going. If she doesn’t just–Cirrus smirks at him and sucks the head into his mouth. Tongue pressing down on the top of the rod to keep it in place. 

He’s going to die. This is it. Death by sounding in a shitty hotel in the middle of nowhere USA. He’s fucked, utterly fucked. He falls back onto the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore. 

Cirrus pulls off with a pop. “Anything?” 

“Fuck– fuck– yes. Anything. Satanas whatever you want just fucking touch it. Make it cum. I can’t– fuck .” 

Cirrus’s hand finally curls around the base of him. The other pulls at the sounding rod. Fucking it into him. She times her strokes with it, a counter rhythm that has him seeing stars.  “Promise me.” 

“I promise. ”  Cirrus licks a stripe over his hip bone. Sucks a mark into the hollow there as she strokes him. Teeth digging in and making him gasp. Dew’s distantly aware of the sound he’s making. High pitched, whining. Desperate. If Rain wasn’t listening at the wall before he definitely is now. He bucks toward Cirrus’ hand, toes curling in the carpet. 

“ Close .” 

“Then cum,” Cirrus whispers against his hip. “Let it out. Let me see how messy you get.” 

His balls draw up tight, he sobs as it hits him. Pleasure burning through his veins. His back arches as he cums. Cirrus pulls the sounding rod in just in time for the first spurt to hit Dew’s stomach. It dribbles down Cirrus fingers, into his pubic hair. Dew closes his eyes so tight he sees red. It feels like it goes on forever. Body still twitching long after he stops shooting. Cirrus strokes him through it, doesn’t stop until she’s squeezed every drop she can from him. 

Dew waits for Cirrus to pounce on him. To force him into overstimulation. To straddle his face. She doesn’t. Instead, she wipes him up with her t-shirt, apologizing softly as he hisses in overstimulation. Then she pokes and prods him until he shifts. Muscles like jelly. He pulls himself fully onto the bed, finally laying in in properly. Cirrus settles in next to him, pulling him down to her. Curling an arm around him and pressing his head to her chest. Cheek pillowed by soft plush flesh as she pets the side of his head. He listens to her heart as he comes back down. Steady, solid. He clings to her. Fingers dimpling into her waist. 

“Give me a minute and I can–whatever you want.” 

“I’m fine, Dew.” She kisses him between the horns. 

“Not fair,” he says sleepily. “You should get off too.” 

She shrugs beneath him. “You know how it is for me. It’s not that easy. Watching you is just as good, you know that. Do you feel better? Quieter?” 

Dew nods. Yawns, nuzzles into her breast. He presses open mouthed kisses across the freckled skin there. Lazy. Appreciative. “Yeah. Thank you, you’re too good to me.” 

“No, I’m not. You don’t have to carry so much on your shoulders, Dew. You can let other people hold it sometimes.” 

He shrugs. “Dunno how.” 

He feels her smile against his hair, she kisses him again, at the base of his horn this time. She settles in, breath huffing out over his slap as she cradles him. He feels her relax beneath him, heart slowing, breathing going even. Comfortable beneath his warmth, his weight. Dew feels sleep tugging at him. He cracks his eyes open to stave it off for just a few more minutes. 

“What do you want then? Something, obviously,,” Dew mumbles sleepily. Cirrus chuckles, still stroking her fingers through his hair, working through tangles. When he tips his head to look up at her, he finds her eyes closed, face open and relaxed. 

“Next time you sound yourself, I want you to call me so I can come watch.” 

Dew blinks at her, head tipping to the side in confusion. “That’s it?” 

Cirrus laughs, she cracks an eye open, lips twisting up into that same mischievous smirk from before.  “Is it ever?” 

Dew pulls his gaze away from her face and puts his head back where it belongs. He sucks her nipple into his mouth, teeth dragging over it as it hardens against his tongue. Soothing more than sexual. He doesn’t answer. They both know there’s more. And Dew could ask for a clue–but he likes it better when Cirrus surprises him.