#if i came back from two straight years of watching myself fall and be in love with the same person i too would be batshit insane head over

[autisticlancemcclain]

this is how it continued

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

Lance tries for weeks to make it end.

The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?

And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.

Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.

Lance needs to make it end.

———

He cannot make it end publicly.

It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.

Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.

———

Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”

“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.

“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”

Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.

“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”

She huffs, clearly still miffed.

Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.

A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.

And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.

“You look dreamy.”

Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.

“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”

Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.

“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”

Lance’s mouth goes dry.

I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.

But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.

———

It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)

By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.

“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.

“Good food,” seconds Hunk.

“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.

“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.

Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.

Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.

Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.

What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.

He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.

“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.

“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”

“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”

Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”

He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.

“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”

Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.

Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”

She doesn’t even moo at him.

Lance tries bribery.

“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”

Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.

“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”

“Well, I hope not.”

Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.

“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)

“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).

“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”

Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”

Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”

The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.

“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”

“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”

“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”

“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”

Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.

“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.

“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”

Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?

An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.

Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”

Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.

“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”

Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

———

They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.

“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.

“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.

Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”

“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”

He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.

Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.

Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.

“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”

Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”

Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.

“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”

There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.

“Ready?” Keith asks.

“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.

Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.

“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.

He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.

“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”

Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.

“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”

Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.

“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”

Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”

He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.

Keith makes him feel so warm.

He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.

He wants it so desperately.

He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.

“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.

Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.

———

They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.

Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.

(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)

“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”

“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.

In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.

“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.

“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”

They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.

He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”

Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”

“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.

Lance snorts. Yeah, right.

He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.

Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.

And he starts to cry.

Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.

Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.

Lance is a horrible, horrible person.

This is has to be how it ends.

“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.

“Lance?”

“My brush is — in the wrong place.”

Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”

“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”

He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.

“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”

Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?

“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“Something stupid.”

“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t — I’m not —”

The rest of his strength leaves him.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

Why can’t he make it end.

Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.

“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.

For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.

A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.

This is how it ends.

He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.

“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”

“For leading you on.”

That certainly gives him pause.

“Leading me…on?”

“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”

“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”

Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.

“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”

He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.

A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.

“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”

Lance swallows.

“Yes.”

Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”

The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”

Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.

“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”

“You mentioned.”

“Two years I lost.”

Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”

“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”

Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.

“Our future?”

Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.

“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”

One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”

Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.

“No wonder your head was all wonky.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d already been with me. For two years.”

“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”

“…That’s a long time, Keith.”

“God, I hope so.”

Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”

“Like glue, darlin’.”

Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.

“Tell me about our future.”

“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”

Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”

His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.

But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.

“What about a little girl with your smile?”

“You got it.”

Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”

“Night, baby.”

This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ DECAY

tw. ddlg, noncon, daddy kink, dom & sub themes, forced threesome, patronization, manipulation, objectification, size kink wordcount. 4.4k

a/n. ♡ i wish i could have done more about this idea but i gave myself a bit of a word count limit for kinktober but don't be surprised if i end up writing more for this in the future jhydgusgfy i wanted to go more extreme but i was a bit bummed by the self imposed limitations kHdyugs iT IS What it is ily thank you for reading

miya atsumu x fem!reader x miya osamu

You’re pouting somethin’ fierce, and thick crocodile tears bead your lash line like diamonds.

Osamu’s not entirely sure when it started. If it started at all. Maybe things just happened to play out this way, and it was entirely coincidental, a whisper in the grander scheme of your relationship with his brother - all too small to mention. Maybe safer to say, he’s not sure when he started noticing it— but once he began, there was nothing to keep him from seeing it too vividly in every interaction.

You’ve been with Tsumu since your last year together in high school. Stuck with him through thick and thin, every busy month, each and every match and scandal and fallout - and Osamu’s nothing but grateful for that. You make him happy, Hell, even a blind man could see how the blond blossoms open when you’re around. Becoming a more grown, dependable version of himself. Some days Osamu blinks and it’s like his mirror image has far surpassed his own grounded maturity, leaving him behind in the dust. And it’s definitely you that brings that out in him - and he’s grateful.

But — he remembers the early days. More than maybe anyone else, Osamu remembers that it wasn’t always this way. You were definitely more soft and gentle than they were as teens, but you were no shrinking violet either. A decade ago, Atsumu would’ve been caught dead underestimating ya like he does with a glitter in his eye now. Like it’s a game the two of you are clued in on. Osamu’s eyes glide over the scene painted before him, sipping his beer from the couch.

“Aw, pet, you’ve gotta watch where yer goin’. C’mere, did that hurt?” Atsumu is knelt before you, cupping your face between two rough palms, as he kisses up and down your face. Your wobbly sniffles get hidden in his chest when he pulls you in, and rubs your back like you’re a toddler with a scraped knee. Your hands fist into his shirt before you take a deep breath, going up in his warmth. And his twin beams like he’s the happiest man on the planet, before going to pick you up with a bit too much practiced ease.

Osamu’s not against the pda. You’ve always been touchy, and Tsumu’s a clingy bastard at the best of times. “‘M so sorry, baby. Daddy almost walked straight over ya.” It’s more that he has a problem with. He looks away when Atsumu’s hands slide down to grip your ass and squeeze you extra close, looking down for another kiss that you give like it’s been practiced a hundred times. He’s not sure if the slight pout you have on is truly the pain though, or more the embarrassment he can see creep up your ears and cheeks.

“I’m sorry for getting in the way,” you whisper back, and by the time Osamu looks up Atsumu has made it back to the couch with a fresh beer, with you now positioned on his lap and wrapped around him like a baby koala. You don’t look over at him though, barely acknowledging the strange situation. Almost makes him feel like he’s the one that’s out of place, even though he came over on Atsumu’s request. Even though he was invited.

Samu takes another chug of his drink, before raising his brows, leaning in with an attempt to catch your eyes. “Yer not gonna have any? ‘S yer fridge we’re looting.” You only disconnect yourself from Atsumu’s chest to look at him with heat on your cheeks, perfectly treated hair shining as it falls along your shoulders.

“No, thank you. Atsum- uhm- d-daddy doesn’t let me have any unless we’re going out. It makes me get all bloated, so ‘s better I don’t.” Your long lashes flutter, before you smile again, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Samu.” There’s a beat of silence where his twin seems to give him a look -one he can’t really make out- where Atsumu puts his own beer aside to pull you closer by your hips and wrap his arms around you like you’re best molten to his front. “Hey,” you whisper then, and Atsumu looks up, “can I move? My knees hurt a little like this.”

“‘S that right? Ya wanna turn so you can look at Samu too?” His brilliant smile is almost bright enough to make him ignore the possessive hands that travel too far down when helping you turn, or the almost-subtle groan he lets out when you wiggle back onto his lap. Osamu stares off into the kitchen instead. “You wanna sit ‘n look at someone else ‘cause I won’t do anything. Is daddy not good ‘nough? Maybe I spoil ya a lil’ too rotten.”

“‘M not rotten~, I do like sitting in your lap,” you squeak out almost sadly, starting to leave little pecks all over Atsumu’s lips as if to shut him up. That would probably be good, Osamu thinks. He doesn’t want to consider the possibility that you’re actually tempering him, but it sure does seem like it. “I’m just tired.” And though your voice drops to an almost whisper, he’s too aware of your pouted, glossy lips to not hear every word. Your hands trail through his hair, sliding down his neck with each slow breath. “Just- Daddy, don’t be upset. I’m trying my best.”

You look almost pained to say it, not that his twin cares. “Please don’t get mad.” Anything else passes over Osamu’s head. He just places the empty bottle by his feet and tries to ignore the way you’re now draped onto Atsumu’s lap like you two will start dry humping any second.

“‘M not mad, pretty girl.” The blond grabs two handfuls of ass and rocks your waist against him, making you squeak, before he runs his tongue along his teeth with a noise. “I’m just thinkin’ that I don't want Samu ta see ya like this.”

You whimper when Atsumu’s mouth glides along your jaw and throat, falling back into the couch -crown brushing Osamu’s thigh- when his twin pushes and presses a few kisses down your throat and chest. “Alright, let’s go out.” Then he pulls back flushed, and gets you up along with him. “Before daddy ends up fucking that pretty pussy with a live audience.” He ushers you towards the door with a few pats on your butt. “Go an’ get yer shoes, I’ll tie yer laces for ya, little girl.”

“I- I can really do it myself, ‘s fine.”

It only makes Atsumu puff out his chest, and stare you down with a hungry stare. “Go on, baby. Yer little enough to need my help.” You don’t say anything, but there’s a tense breath of silence that covers the room before you look away with shame written all over your expression.

Osamu’s too speechless to do much but just stare at the side of his brother’s face, who barely shows any emotion other than enjoyment at all. Seriously. It’s not like you to let someone just walk all over you. Or at least, it wasn’t like you, as far as he was concerned. Things have clearly changed. He frowns. “Do ya really have ta talk about ‘er like that when I’m around, stupid Tsumu? Keep it in yer pants, wouldya?”

Instead of the normally snappy reply that he’d expect, the blond just shrugs, tugging at his waistband like the tightness is a little uncomfortable. “Can’t help it. She’s so fuckin’ cute whinin’ and crying out for me.” Brown irises find Osamu’s, and he smiles. “You’d feel the same if ya saw what she can do.” He pats his thighs when you come back from the hall, and holds out his hands. “Come ‘ere, little princess. Daddy’ll dress ya right up.”

+

Your frilly little implication of a dress is bunched around your hips as he lets you down from another bear hug, and puts on a slight pout. “I’ll be back soon, baby. They need an emergency setter for just an hour of practice. Maybe two.”

“It’s never just one hour.”

The overly whiny request only makes Atsumu glitter more, as his eyes flick down your body and his tongue is caught between his teeth. Truly, the guy has absolutely no decency. This was supposed to be a fun weekend away from work for the three of ya. Not that Atsumu seems bothered by that. After a few seconds he kisses your forehead though, letting you lean into his arms and looking ever so teenie tiny compared to your boyfriend -they’ve both filled out in both size and muscle since high school after all- and it becomes even more apparent when Tsumu squeezes you under his chin. “If ya need anything ya’ll ask Samu, alright? Just pretend he’s me.”

You bat your lashes at him, but let your grip on him slowly be peeled off. “... Okay. Can I have dinner while you’re gone?”

“Hm, sure.” The blond runs his fingers through his hair. “Daddy’s gonna miss ya. I’m not gonna be gone fer long.” Then he eyes him with a grin that Osamu kind of wants to slap off of his cheeks. “Thanks for ‘sittin ‘er.” He doesn’t reply with a smart remark about him treating you like a dog, and just gives a vague hum instead. With that he gives the brunet a quick wave, and gathers his phone and keys on his way to the door. You linger around the entrance a bit longer, before slowly returning to the dinner table with slightly heated cheeks. You tuck your knees to your chest when you sit and reach for one of the side dishes — and he can’t help but say it when the door falls into lock.

“So, what’s all that about?”

“Hm?” Your head drops to the side slightly as you put some pickled radish in your mouth and hum. “Mm, this ‘s really good, Samu! Can I have some?”

“Help yerself,” he nods, and also slides the plates you can’t reach closer. It’s not like he doesn’t understand it at all. You’ve got that sort of puppy-eyes look down, big and round and soft wherever you look, no matter who you’re talking to. It’s the kind of gentleness that calls for protection, and he’s not even the possessive type, but despite that the feeling of being needed sits on his chest and longs to come out. But still. He can’t help but think Atsumu’s overplaying his cards. “Seriously though. You know ya can tell my shitty brother no, right? I’ll straighten ‘em out for ya.”

The words seem to process for a moment, before you load some more food onto your utensils and swallow it with a little noise of thoughtfulness. “I- I don’t know. Atsumu says he likes being the provider. At first it was just little stuff he helped with, and I thought it was nice to be cared for.” You fumble a little with the chopsticks when a piece of fish is extra slippery, and smile when he helps you out and picks it up, carrying it towards your mouth. “You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve fed myself instead of Tsumu doing it for me,” you softly mention. That’s weird, ain’t it? That’s definitely weird.

Still he’s carrying the food to your mouth, and be it instinct, or habit, you look too fuckin’ sweet waiting like a puppy for him to help out, big, doe-eyes and all.

You let the piece onto your tongue, before wrapping those pretty lips around and gratefully humming and — fuck. You don’t notice the way his brow ticks, but his stomach rolls with the realization. Instead of lingering too long on the implication that he might feel the same exact way as his twin, he lets you talk, after chewing for a while. “I just- I don’t like that he doesn’t ever take me seriously anymore. He thinks I can’t do anything by myself, even brushing my own teeth, or picking out clothes! It’s so- so frustrating-” you continue until you run out of air, and seem to suddenly realize who you’re talking to. “Oh, don’t tell Atsumu that. Please don’t tell him. He gets so upset and I don’t like it when he’s mad.”

Samu can’t help but just nod in agreement, not sure what else to say. He doesn’t think his brother would ever hurt ya. Then again, Samu also didn’t think his brother was much of a kink lifestyle sort of guy until the last few months— so clearly he doesn’t know everything anymore. And you seem… okay with it, right? He’s not sure, really. Would he even have the guts to tell Tsumu off if he was sure you weren’t? Instead of lingering on that uncomfortable possibility, he pivots. “Let’s watch somethin’? What do ya wanna see?”

Your eyes shimmer when they flick up, and you swallow before smiling. “Can I choose?” You wiggle in your seat. “Atsumu -w-well- daddy doesn’t let me watch scary stuff, but I’ve been dying to watch the Ring again.” You then lean into his space a little more, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “I assume I don’t have to snuggle up to you though? He did say to pretend you’re him but…” You wrap your thin sweater a little closer. “I’ll hold your hand? He can’t get mad that way.”

How can he say no when you’re staring at him with those fucken stars in your eyes? His fingers find yours on the table, and your hand feels way smaller and softer than his own work-worn ones. “Yeah, sure. But ya shouldn’t watch nothin’ ta give ya nightmares though…” The urge to pick you up and wrap you nice and safe in his embrace becomes stronger by the second, and his eyebrows furrow.

+

Atsumu is quick to descend on you in the safety of the separate room. His hands glide down your sides and hike up your shirt over your arms, before running his fingertips down the valley of your breasts. “Samu was nice to ya?”

“Mhm,” you bop your head a few times, shivering when the cooler air peaks your nipples and Tsumu brushes his thumb over them. “He was- r-really- ah daddy, that tickles.” Your voice trembles when he eyes you down, before letting his fingers trail down to your shorts instead. He motions your butt up and you lift yourself politely, letting him slide those down your legs too as he lifts one and starts placing kisses down your ankle up your leg. “You said we’d get ready for bed~”

“We are gettin’ ready,” his smile goes a little crooked when you bite your lip, “just curious ‘s all. Ya think Samu likes ya?” He lets you fall back onto the plush covers before walking into the ensuite and coming back with some skincare that he places unceremoniously onto the bedside table- and you frown. If your boyfriend asked you a few years ago, you’d assume he was just genuinely curious. About you getting along with his family, his twin, his other half. But now, there’s an agenda woven into the words. Always is.

“We get along well. Why?”

His lips jerk up, and with a simple shrug he continues. “He’s good too ya, ain’t he? An’ I’ve been thinking I want Samu to watch us some time.” You’re too shocked to say anything, but your mouth drops open. No.

No, it’s already embarrassing how he makes you whine and whimper like a pet for him when you’re alone. It’s embarrassing when he makes you call him daddy when there’s people around with no shame- like he gets off on it. But this- his hands find your face with a soaked cotton pad to start cleaning you with gentle motions, and you find your eyes starting to water. You hate that you’ve become this fragile little flower that can’t speak up when it matters. You’d like to think you’re still the same. But your lip wobbles too easily as Atsumu continues, and your voice cracks.

The mortification is too much to bear, it swallows you up whole. He couldn’t possibly make you. “I don’t want that.”

“What’s that?” he coos, eyelids hooded. He leans down to you more.

You push his hand away from your face and frown, but tears still spill over. You fucking hate being such a crybaby. “I don’t want Samu to watch us.” You still frown though, doing your best to blink away the waterworks. And instead of taking you seriously - of course - Tsumu tilts his head in that sort of understanding that you’re throwing a tantrum like a toddler might. But you’re serious. You mean it. His freshly washed hair falls over his brows, but his hands still find your shoulders to keep you in place below him.

“Aw, baby. Poor girl.” The soft rubbing of his thumb along your skin only makes you more shaky in that feeling, his eyes roaming your body before he pushes you back onto the bed and crawls onto it beside you, pulling you into his touch. It doesn’t escape you that you’re already naked and he’s still dressed, keeping you tight. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. Shhh, shhh, it’s okay.” You swallow, and push against his chest with a slight whimper - why can’t he take you seriously?

“I mean it, Atsumu.”

Before you can say anything else he pinches your cheek hard, and his dark brows lace together. “Don’t be rude.” The darkness fades quickly, but he still doesn’t show any intention of letting you go. In fact, because of his strength against you you’re only forced deeper into his embrace, head pressed to his warm chest. “Daddy’ll take care of you. Always do, don’t I?” You open your mouth to retort, but he interrupts again, and squishes your cheeks together before placing a few patient kisses onto your pouty lips. “Listen to daddy. It’ll be fine.”

It’s so frustrating.

You want to move. You want to remove yourself from the situation he’s putting you in, or put on some fucking clothes, and instead you’re being mocked by him. Once more you try to give him a push for some space, but because he barely feels it or pretends not to, you don’t make a dent. “Tsumu, I don’t want to have sex with your brother watching~” you end up crying out, feeling the tears well up again. “Get off of me.” You start wiggling, as his hand wraps around your wrist and forces it to wrap around his body, clamping your hands together behind his back as he rolls over and starts kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You want him to leave you alone. “My sweet little girl. You don’t gotta fight me, ‘m not doin’ nothing. I’m here for ya.” His heartbeat is so steady against you that it makes you want to shove him and scream in his face to fuck off, but of course you don’t. You don’t scream. You don’t push, or fight, or make yourself clear. All you can do is cry into his shirt as his smell wraps around you and you struggle to make the waterworks stop.

“Let go~” you sniffle into his shirt, and shiver when his hands start sliding down to pull you back onto him, forcing his thick, strong thigh between your legs. Your straining muscles give up after a while of pushing back, and his embrace still stays.

“Shush, little baby. I got ya, don’t worry yer pretty little head.”

“Daddy~” you whine softer this time, and don’t fight him when he nudges you face up to kiss him. He groans for a moment in what can only be satisfaction at winning the fight, before rolling over so you’re trapped under his heavy body, chest rising and falling against him. And as you try to stop crying, Atsumu has the nerve to rub your head like all of this isn’t his fault.

+

You can’t escape the heavy gaze anywhere you look. It’s suffocating. Not that you have much room to think about it between the way Tsumu’s taking up your space and forcing one of your legs over his shoulder so he can spread you open. It’s a brief reprieve from the prying eyes blocked by his broad back, but you know it will end. Because Tsumu didn’t just drag his twin here to know that someone’s watching. He wants to make a show of you. To show off the type of power he- oh. Your half-lidded eyes flutter open wider when his fingers spread open your slick and your pussy clenches around nothing.

And Atsumu grins. “Yer so quiet, baby. Are’ya shy?” You don’t answer that, instead trying to chase after his hand when he moves away, wrapping comparatively small hands around his wrist. You can feel the heat of Samu at the foot of the bed, uncomfortably perched onto it with his knee before he dips the mattress further, and your blinks get more rapid.

“Daddy… I- I don’t-”

“Hush,” he moves your other leg aside more, leaving you spread embarrassingly open before he dips his body and glides both hands under your ass, lifting you a few inches. His mouth descends without thinking, kisses and then tongue making you whimper as he eats you out. Not gently, but possessive, demanding licks that drag your split attention right back to him - only until Samu leans forward a little to get a better view. This is so fucking embarrassing. “Mh- Taste good, pretty thing.” Atsumu’s eyes have that same cocky, knowing look he always does when he gets you like this. You won’t do anything back, and he knows that. “Yer droolin’ all over my chin.”

You are. The slick’s coating his lips when he pulls back, trailing kisses up your thighs, before he slides two fingers inside your squelching pussy traitorously slow, and watches your face scrunch. He’s big. He always is, and knows it too, big hands, big thighs, chest, shoulders. Most of all, he’s fucked you enough times now to know that you can’t take him easily without prep, and even that is embarrassing. You could have gone a whole lifetime without having Osamu know that. Why did he even agree to this?

“Little brat,” Tsumu says after a few seconds, flicking your nipple painfully as he stares, clenching his jaw. “Don’t be rude. Samu came all the way out here to see ya, ‘n yer gonna lock up the whole time?” You swallow, and try to talk, but he instead curls his fingers inside your pussy and slides them deeper. Right where you can’t handle them, until you have no choice but to curl and wiggle away from him, mouth pulling open to moan.

“Ah, agh, daddy! Daddy, daddy.” Samu’s broad shouldered figure being barely dressed in a tank and boxers, along with Atsumu’s almost godly physique hanging over you is too much. You shut your eyes. “I can’t- f-focus.” You hold onto his arm as he fucks his fingers in and out of you for long enough that your entire body starts tingling, before he peels you off and turns you over. Rough hands hike you onto your knees, and your ass up in the air before his rough palm lands hard and sends a stinging heat through your legs. “Ow, ow~”

“That’s more like it. I know yer a noisy little bitch.” He rubs your lips up and down with his thumb a few more times, before you hear the sound of boxers being peeled off. “Now, what do ya say when daddy will give ya something ya want?”

He presses the hot head of his cock against you but doesn’t push in yet, and your poor pussy clenches around nothing as tears fill your eyes and you grip two fistfuls of pillow. You can’t say it. Not with Samu sitting right there, judging you both for- another sharp spank makes you shiver, and you whimper into the pillow. The sting aches until heat blooms under the damaged skin, and you unclench your teeth. “Please, daddy? Please fuck me.” You doubt you’re stretched enough to take him comfortably, even with the fingering and all the wetness coating your puffy pussy and the inside of your thighs. “Pretty please?”

There’s a few moments before his hand presses down on your back and his cock slides inside, and you do your best not to gasp too much feeling him force you open. It aches though, and you have to widen your knees to make room and— God it feels so good. You’re not sure whether to cry because of the feeling, or because you can’t stop yourself from moaning high pitched and whiny like a whore putting on her best performance. You really can’t help it. “Agh, ah- d-daddy, move, please.” The heavy weight of his cock bottoms out and he presses his heavy balls against you for a few seconds, before pulling out with a groan.

The motion pulls your entire body back, only stopped by his hand, like you’re some cocksleeve— and you cry harder. “Ah, ah, ugh— Atsumu,” you pout, and he pets your head.

“I’m right here, doll. Does that feel good?” You nod, and cling on, before opening your eyes to look at him with his thighs right next to your head and stroking his cock with an almost torturous pace. You whimper when being bottomed out into, and then your eyes shoot open. You can’t turn, but the low groan Samu lets out when you clench hard around him, says enough— and Tsumu laughs as he watches you panic and your bottom lip wobble, petting your head. Like this is all some big game, keeping you down under his hand while you shake your head.

“No, no- you said- you said he’d watch- agh, daddy! No, no no no, you promised! You promised.” You can’t stop yourself from moaning when he hits deep inside, fucking you much too well. Your mouth falls open as you try to stop the sound, but Tsumu’s touch only gets more demanding as his twin picks up the pace.

“Shhh, shhh, Samu likes ya so~ much. It’s just this one time. And then daddy’ll take good care of ya, promise.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[shrenvents]

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to tie my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face of yours," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I guffaw, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

[lacedinweb22]

Vampire Next Door ♱✮♱ Miguel O'Hara x reader Miguel's POV Chapter 3: and I remember her... ˚○◦˚.

ch. 1 ch. 2

Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

── ⋆⋅⟡⋅⋆ ──

She looks just like I remember her. 

Plump rosy lips, that same flush of color in her cheeks, soft hair that falls perfectly into place, and a beautiful, contagious smile, one I’d let myself be infected by, that is, if I wasn’t thinking of the one million things I had to do, the people I had to protect, and that piece of shit tied up in my bathroom.

When she talks, when I stare hard enough, I can find little changes in her: the way she carries herself, the way she looks up at me, the slight change in the colors she wears, but still, even through that, I see her, and I remember her… and the thoughts from then rush back.

But I’ve changed … a lot in the past two years. A lot. So I wasn’t too surprised when she didn't remember me. There were three hundred people in that hall, and I was just one of many TAs. I do remember making eye contact with her more than I could count. I thought she’d notice, thought maybe she’d feel it,

but guess she didn’t.

Anyways, can’t be too involved with new girl. I acknowledged the odds that she round up across the hall from me, but also acknowledged the risks. I can only keep work so far away from home. Shit follows me. 

She let me walk through her apartment. It’s empty, but just from the one box I carried, I can tell she’s going to make it her own. 

Boots. She had her own style then and she has her own style now, and I know her place will reflect that when she’s done with it. I wonder if she’ll invite me over at some point, when she’s done decorating and settling in. 

Now, I stand in her empty bathroom, watching her unpack. Today’s my off day, so I figure I’ll bother her a bit, jog her memory. 

The walls are thin, I know that now. 

The fucker thumps against my wall, forcing my visit at her place to be cut short. I rush to my front door, he whines through the red webs I shut him up with. I flash her a smile, “Ha yeah, gotta help the little guy, I’ll- uh I’ll catch you later,” I say, blocking her from seeing the inside of my apartment. 

I know I seem like an asshole, and the shitty side of me, the Spider-Man side of me, wants her to perceive me that way. I can’t afford to get close to anyone again. Not after what happened.

I slam the door shut. 

I storm over to the bathroom. The anomaly I’ve caught, who I still need answers from, sits tied up in the bathtub. He glitches in the red stringy mess he’s tied up in.

I would have brought him to HQ, but Jess would want to help, probably scold me, and I had to deal with this one on my own. 

“Maldito idiota, I told you, I’m not letting you go, and I’m not letting you die until you tell me who fucking sent your ass! How did you find me in this universe?!” I kick him as he lays sideways on the tile floor.

He rolls his eyes.

“Coño, I didn’t want to have to drag you across my freshly mopped floor, but you’re disturbing the neighbors.”

Dragging him to the kitchen, I question him a bit more, rip off the webs on his mouth, and when he smart-talks, I shut him back up and relent. 

Letting out a self-pitying groan, I tap my watch. The portal opens and I drag him back to HQ. 

My suit activates upon arrival. Jess looks me up and down from the platform.

“I hope I’m wrong about where you just came from, Miguel,” she mutters, looking down at her watch.

“Shut up, leave me alone … Peter Parkedcar, anomaly control. Pick-up in my office, please,” I speak into my watch.

I leave the anomaly glitching on the floor, and shoot web to pull myself up to the platform. 

“What did I tell you about bringing work home, Miguel?”

I storm by her, ignoring her scolding, heading straight to the hologram screens. 

“Yo sé, yo sé,” I mutter, swiping across the screen.

“Hmm, your hair looks nice. It’s … different.”

“Different?” 

“You don’t usually have your hair that way, is what I’m saying. What’s the occasion?” 

How can she tell? 

“Are you seeing someone?” she asks, standing behind me, reaching her hand beside me to help organize my tabs.

“No, why would I– no,”

“Miguel … I’ll get it out of you eventually, so might as well tell me now before you start letting it affect your work, act weird, and end up making a mess of yourself … a mess that I’ll have to clean up … not that I’m complaining I just–”

“There’s a new girl, someone I knew back at NYU … and now she lives across the hall from me. I don’t want her to get in the way.” 

“Get in the way of what? Stop bringing work home and she won’t be in ‘the way.’ Easy,” she shrugs. 

I exhale. It was … recent. Time won’t fly. The pain in my chest deepens, I remember it all for a second. I feel her eyes looking up at me. She knows. 

I look down at the hand she’s now rested on my forearm. She looks up at me, brows knit together, her worry visible even through her goggles.

“You can let it go, Miguel. You can have a life outside of … this.”

“This is my life. This is my responsibility.” 

“No. There are hundreds of us, Miguel. It’s all of ours. You know … if I could find love, create life, and still be here kicking ass and being a good friend to you, then so can you. You can live again,”

I sigh, head hung low. It takes a lot to admit to myself, how exhausted I am … from everything. I haven’t breathed in months.

“Let yourself live again.”

I breathe back the tears welling up. 

“Yo sé,” I manage to mutter.

“Invite her out, Miguel, put yourself out there,” she encourages, patting my back then jumping off the platform.

“How’s … Baby doing?” I ask, turning around to watch her leave.

“Baby’s healthy and happy,” she calls out, rubbing her belly.

“Gracias a Dios.”

“Miguel, do yourself a favor… be more like Baby,” she mutters walking out.

I let myself chuckle then look back at the screen. 

My fingers subconsciously open that file. I feel myself smile, watching my past self be happy, full of life.

Let yourself live again.

Maybe I’ll try.

○◦˚.˚◦○˚

ch.4 here >:D

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[twyftwyt]

here’s a short Noah imagine i scrabbled in my notes app while rotting in bed, i’m wondering if i should write more.

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand

and i have less pieces of you than i can hold in my hand…

I knew we weren’t dating. I knew we were never gonna be together officially, so what was the point of fighting over it? What was the point of this whole thing, actually? I wasn’t his to claim and he, for sure, was not mine to call. He was gone almost 300 days of the year. He had gigs, festivals, signings, award shows, record meetings. And I had a 9 to 5 job. I went home, cooked, cleaned, went on vacation sometimes but my routine was way different from his.

So why were we sitting in his car, at 2 in the morning, fighting over “labels”?

“I’m not about to argue with a man who doesn’t even know what he wants.”

“Do you hear yourself? I don’t know what I want? Me? Is that how we’re turning the narrative now?”

“No, Noah. The narrative’s been the same this whole time. Just admit that you don’t want a relationship and we can call it a day and I can finally go home and sleep, cause I have work tomorrow.”

My eyes were burning and so were my cheeks. I was flushed with anger and I could already feel the tears coming.

“I never, NOT ONCE, said that I do not want a relationship. I am INCAPABLE of maintaining one. You wanna miss me for a month straight, see me for a weekend, travel the whole world to spend a day, maximum two with me in between shows? You want me calling you in the middle of the night, waking you up just because where I’m at it’s midday and it’s the only possible time for me to call you? You want to put us in a position where my trust will be questioned all the time? And you’ll be anxious if you see me with another woman just because I HAVE to work with her? You wanna go through all of this?”

“Seems like you don’t want to, so what’s the point of having this conversation? Please, just take me home.”

I couldn’t contain myself anymore and I felt the tears streaming down my face. I was starting to shake but I didn’t want to make a bigger scene than what this conversation had already turned to. I was spent. And hurt and tired. And he was just sitting in the driver seat, looking at me, not knowing what to do. He looked so pathetic, it was insane how much I allowed myself to fall in love with him. He was just. a. stupid. man. He never knew how to react properly and most of the time it was funny watching him struggle to pick the right words, but he was always big on physical contact, so he’d just pull me in his arms until I stop crying. He didn’t do that now though. He was just staring at me, blankly. I turned to face the window and put my legs up on the seat, curling into a little ball.

I heard the engine start and the radio came back to life with the most gut wrenching song Spotify could pick. God, I hate that shared playlist. And I hate myself for falling for him.

[dailyreverie]

Make this feel like home

A/N: What is it about Santiago Garcia that makes me think of the most domestic scenarios? jesus christ the way I made myself yearn with this one.... Anyway... hope y'all like it!

@flufftober - Day 7 Porch swing

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader

Word count: 723 words

CW: ...is domestic Santi a content warning?

Flufftober masterlist

You could watch Santiago setting up a swing all day. You had the perfect view of him from the living room, big arms and backwards cap, drill in one hand and a nail between his lips, all too distracting to focus on your reading. And sure, the view was great, but the thought of him being there, finally at home and not chasing people anymore, it wasn't just about the swing, but it was about the future you were building together.

It was Santi settling down, choosing himself over the life-threatening job that kept running him down to the ground; it was choosing you, who kept waiting years and years for him to get to your arms and start the rest of your lives together, and now that you had him there, you were sure you were never letting him go.

Hanging a swing could have been your idea, but Santi had been on board since the first minute, claiming the task of hanging in over your porch. An hour had passed since you last heard his frustrated grunt, and the only sound now was the soft rustling of leaves in the afternoon breeze. You couldn't help but wonder if Santiago had finished or if the chair had defeated him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Curiosity got the better of you and you headed outside only to be greeted by the sight of the perfectly hung swing overlooking your once-green backyard, now slowly turning a warm shade of yellow. Santiago sat on the swing, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. You knew he was awake when you noticed the gentle sway of his legs, rocking the hanging chair back and forth.

Without a word, you settled down beside him, the swing a perfect fit for just the two of you. Santiago's arm found its way around your waist effortlessly, and you snuggled closer, draping your legs across his lap.

“It looks great,” Your compliment came with a soft care of your fingertips against his tummy, pulling a quiet chuckle out of him.

“Good,” You heard the exhaustion in his voice, yet it was still accompanied by a smile. “It was a pain in the ass.”

 “I could hear that.” You joined his soft laughter, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Santi.”

“Nothing to thank, mi amor,” He assured you with a kiss against your temple, meeting your eyes for a brief moment of quiet smiles. The world outside your little balcony seemed to slow down, and all that mattered was this moment - the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

You stayed quiet for a moment. In those minutes you were sure Santi was falling in and out of sleep, the warmth of your body being the last thing he needed to be completely comfortable to do so.

The late afternoon sun began to turn your white porch golden and the air was getting colder by the second, but the gentle sway of the swing along with Santi’s warm arms, created a cocoon of comfort that was too inviting to walk away from. As you looked out over the yard you couldn't help but smile at the thought of this being your home: the garden, the sunset, Santi and your balcony. It was a scene straight out of your wildest dreams.

Santi's voice broke you out of your peaceful daydream, surprising you as he spoke of a gazebo. He pointed to a corner of the yard, his eyes filled with excitement. "Over there, a small gazebo with a fire pit, maybe with some fairy lights."

You couldn't help but tease him, given his earlier struggle with the swing. "You could barely hang a swing, baby."

"I could bring the guys to help!" Santiago's enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself leaning in to kiss his cheek once more.

“Then a gazebo it is.” His fingers poked your skin at the sound of your mocking tone, making you both laugh.

Santiago's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "I'll make it happen, and we’ll see who laughs then.”

You chuckled, knowing that Santiago's determination would see the project through. "I have no doubt about it, Santi."

As the day turned into evening, you both stayed on the swing, enjoying the gentle rocking motion and each other's company in your own little sanctuary.

✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂

Thanks for reading! Pleasae reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[kurtie4life96]

Your writing makes me feel things oh my

Could you do a Robin smut with promts 1, 2, 28, and 30? Ik it probably sounds like a lot so I'd get it if u don't want to. But I thought it'd all fit together like Robin's jealous reader's flirting with someone else and reader's excuse is that she and Robin are "just friends" so Robin has to set her straight

Anyways I also wanted to say that I am so jealous of your writing skills and I (embarrassingly) look up to you(r writing?)

Baby I love you for this and your compliments mean the absolute world to me. Like I love you so much let's get married immediately.

No Robin smut for me is too much.

No Sharing // R.B. x Reader

Summary: Robin has to set the record straight with her "best friend".

CW: MDNI 18+, delicious beautiful smut, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, dom!robin, sub!reader

Another hot, dusky summer night, another house party at Steve Harrington's house.

Everyone was there, of course, including Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve himself, just about everyone that went to Hawkins High School. Including your most cherished best friend, Robin Buckley.

The two of you stood in the kitchen, people watching, laughing at everyone's antics, like Tammy Thompson being too drunk to even stand, and Steve slipping on some spilled liquor, falling straight on his ass.

It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to be alone in the corner, giggling and gossiping with each other, huddled close together as the two of you normally would, being the introverts you are.

Robin had been your best friend since 6th grade, when your mom forced you to go to her birthday party, March 10th, despite your attempts at begging not to go. You didn't get along well with other kids, as some weren't fond of your "awkward" personality, so you always opted to stay home.

Your mom forcing you to go to her birthday sleepover was the best thing that could've happened to you. You'd gotten along with her so quickly, having so much in common, like being labeled "weird" or "different". You had the same music taste, the same sense of humor, and hated the same people.

Over the years, the friendship blossomed, hanging out after school, passing notes to each other in class, sharing clothes, having sleepovers, Robin always falling asleep during the middle of movie night, and snuggling together in bed. You'd even practiced kissing each other, for when the two of you would eventually get a boyfriend.

But as time passed, neither of you had ever gotten interested in boys, because they were "boring", and spent most of your time with each other instead, which the two of you were happy to do. It was a beautiful friendship, sent from the universe itself, and you were absolutely inseparable.

As you and Robin were continuing to laugh and goof around, she spilled her drink from her red solo cup onto the front of her shirt, drenching her.

"Oh shit, Robin, let me find a towel-"

"Nah, it's cool. I'll go find one myself." She insisted.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'm gonna go find one, be right back." She saluted you.

"Okay." You giggled as she began to navigate through the sea of intoxicated young adults.

"Hey there." A familiar voice greeted you.

You looked over to see Eddie Munson himself, drunk, hovering above you.

"Hey Eddie! What's up?"

"Not much," he gestured towards Robin, "where's she going?"

"Oh, she spilled her drink on her shirt, went to clean herself up is all."

"Ah, okay, gotcha. So, how you been doin' lately?"

Eddie and yourself chatted amongst yourselves in the kitchen for a few minutes. You couldn't help but find his drunken, goofy self charming.

And Robin couldn't help but notice.

She came back to see you talking with him. You were laughing too much, shoving him playfully too much, twirling your hair with your fingers too much for her liking.

And she couldn't help but overhear you say:

"Robin? Yeah, I know we're really close, just best friends, ya know?"

She'd heard enough.

She put on a smile and strutted over, linking her elbow with yours.

"Oh, hey Robin!" You exclaimed, smiling at her, "did you find a towel?"

"Yeah, I did," she nodded, her eyes fixated on Eddie, "so, what're you guys doing?"

"Oh, we were just talking, catching up, ya know-"

She cut Eddie off, "Yeah, that's cool. Hey, can we have our own talk over there?" She glanced at you, pointing to the stairs.

"Oh, um, yeah..." you said, confusion on your face. "Sorry Eddie, I'll see you later-"

"Yeah, she'll see you later." She interrupted you, a condescending tone to her voice as she grabbed your arm, walking you towards the staircase.

"Robin, what the hell was that? That was so fucking rude-"

"Shut up and keep walking."

You hesitantly followed her up the stairs to an empty room, the only furniture in it a dresser and a freshly made bed, feeling annoyed as she shut the door behind you, locking it.

"What's gotten into you?" You questioned her, frustrated, "You been drinking or something?"

"Oh, stop it, you know that neither of us actually drink at these things." She took a few steps forward to you, her hands behind her back.

"Well," you stammered, "what the fuck is your problem? You were mean to him for no reason-"

"You wanna know what the fuck my problem is?" She raised her voice, "My problem is you going around telling people that we're 'just friends', flirting around with people I know you don't care about."

You shot her a confused look.

"Okay... well, what's wrong with that?"

"Oh my god," Robin threw her arms up in the air in frustration, slapping them on her sides, "Cut the shit, babe. You know what's wrong with that.

"Robin, I really don't understand-"

She stepped closer to you, very much so irritated with you.

"Come on, now. Don't act so ignorant," she began one of her infamous rants, "we've never had boyfriends, never even kissed one, for fucks sake, we've only kissed each other. We have sleepovers where we cuddle, sometimes even half naked, we wear each other's clothes, we only spend time with each other, no one else! Don't act so fucking stupid, because I know you're not blind to this, to this situation, to us!"

There was a moment of silence, a moment where the air, the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Your face went hot, as you just stared at her with glossy eyes, feeling timid.

She took note of your body language, and took another step forward, until her face was only inches from yours.

"We're not just friends, and you fucking know it." Her voice dropped an octave, lustful eyes glancing to yours, and to your lips.

"Robin," you breathed, "I'm sorry-"

She grabbed your face with her hands, crashing her lips onto yours, pulling you in for a hard, passionate kiss.

When you didn't reciprocate, she pulled back.

"I'm sorry," she started, "I shouldn't have-"

You grabbed her head, yanking her forward and smashed your lips onto hers, giving her the same hard, passionate kiss she'd given you moments before, not wanting to let go, wanting to draw it out as long as possible.

You broke the kiss, looking at her through half lidded eyes, relishing in her presence.

"Robin," you whined, fisting the fabric of her shirt desperately, "Robin, please."

She gazed at you for a moment, savouring your touch, your presence, and crashed her lips against yours again, snaking her hand down your back as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

Her lips were so soft, tasting of vanilla chapstick, as she kissed you over and over again, only breaking them to take a shallow breath in between.

The both of you panted as you continued to embrace each other fiercely, feeling fire spread across your skin as she suddenly gripped your hips tightly, thrusting them against yours.

You lightly gasped, Robin taking the opportunity to skim her tongue along your bottom lip, beginning to pull you in for a deeper kiss, your tongues gliding against each others feverishly. You raked your fingers through her hair hastily as she she kept a hold on your hips.

She pushed a leg in between yours, biting your bottom lip softly, then taking it into her mouth, sucking on it, and letting it go with a pop.

You softly moaned, begging for more as you held her close to you. She smiled.

"You say we're just friends, but you can't keep your hands off me."

You bit your lip, looking down at her chest and looking even lower, rubbing your thighs against hers for some kind of friction.

She smirked and frantically grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your head, then began unbuttoning your pants, you eagerly slipping out of them. She gazed at your body in adoration, before quickly taking off her own clothes, the both of you standing before each other in your bra and panties.

She leaned forward, bringing her lips to your ear, sliding a finger down the side of your underwear, and snapping it against your skin.

"I always liked these," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

She kissed you harshly again as she slipped her hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off your body.

Robin made her way down from your lips to your neck and chest, gently biting and sucking, leaving light bruises scattered across your exposed skin.

"Robin," you softly moaned.

"Sh," she hushed you, "You're mine, and I don't share."

She continued her assault on your chest, cupping your breasts as she swirled her tongue around your nipples, sucking and kissing them, before grabbing the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you up, tossing you onto the bed.

She unhooked her own bra as she sat before you, throwing it somewhere in the room. You reached for her, wanting to touch her soft skin, but she pushed you back down, grabbing the waistline of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

You squished your thighs together in embarassment, but she grabbed your knees, spreading your legs apart to get a good look.

"You're beautiful, babe. I'll show you."

You huffed, quivering under Robin's touch as she teasingly brushed her fingers along the skin of your inner thighs, lightly scratching you with her nails as she descended her hands down towards your heat.

She lightly stroked your folds, collecting your slick on her fingers, making you whimper.

"Fuck," she groaned, "you're so fucking wet."

She brought her fingers to her mouth and slowly licked them, keeping eye contact with you as she relished in your taste, you gazing at her with half lidded eyes and inhaling a sharp breath.

She bit at the side of your knee, mumbling expletives as she tried to compose herself, prevent herself from completely devouring you.

"Robin," you panted, "please... I need you."

She gave a teasing smirk at your words, breathing heavily, and placed a finger on your dripping entrance, gently sliding it into you.

You gasped, arching into her touch as she began pushing it in and out of you at an achingly slow pace, then without warning, inserted a second digit, curling them into your sweet spot, making you bite back a moan as your walls clenched around her.

She paused, smiling at at your reaction.

"Right there, huh? That was easy." She said in a low voice.

She continued pumping her fingers in and out of you at a faster, steady rhythm, making sure to hit your spongy spot everytime. You began feeling fire in your abdomen, goosebumps spreading across your skin, panting, moaning her name shamelessly.

She crawled over you, her other arm holding herself up on the pillow next to you, continuing to fuck into you, and began circling your clit with her thumb.

"Oh fuck, Robin," you mumbled, her catching your mouth quickly, your kisses sloppy and deep between heavy pants. She nipped at your bottom lip and sucked on it, your lips surely swollen and bruised now as you felt the coiling tension in your stomach get tighter.

"Could he make you feel as good as I do?" She asked between pants.

You shook your head, shivering under her.

"Answer me." She demanded, squeezing your cheeks together.

"No, never, fuck Robin, I'm gonna-"

She quickly removed her fingers from you before your orgasm could peak, sitting up.

You groaned at the loss, rubbing your thighs together for some friction.

"Why did you-"

"As much as I wanna watch you fall apart underneath me right now," she teased in her raspy voice, "this isn't how I want you to cum."

She leaned over, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and grasped your hips tightly, making you yelp, as she yanked the apex of your thighs towards her face.

She licked a thick stripe up your dripping heat, making you push your hips to her face even further.

She began to lap you up rapidly, swirling her tongue along your folds as the coil in your stomach quickly returned. You moaned a mixture of her name and expletives, watching your best friend devour you senseless.

She inserted her tongue into your entrance, making you roll your hips and cry out in pleasure, reaching out to grab a fistful of her hair as she licked inside of you.

Robin then skimmed up your heat, licking a flat tongue over your clit, swirling around it with a fast and hard pace, then taking your swollen bud into her mouth, sucking and smacking her mouth on it ruthlessly, drowning you in absolute ecstacy. You gasped and gripped her hair tighter, making her moan against your heat. The vibration alone sent you over the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Robin, I'm gonna cum-"

Your back arched as shockwaves gripped your body, pulsing against her mouth as you fell apart, her continuing to lap up your mess through your high until it came to a halt.

She let go of your hips, panting, her mouth wet with your slick as she dropped your lower half back onto the bed.

Robin leaned over you and kissed you feverishly, her face flushed, and you pulled her in deeper, tasting yourself on her tongue.

She plopped her back onto the bed, laying beside you, catching her breath as you both stared at the ceiling, your fingers interwining with hers as you held hands until both of you could steady yourselves.

"Robin," you started, "that was amazing-"

"I know," she smiled, "I know it was."

You looked over to her, chuckling a bit.

"You're feeling pretty proud of yourself right now, aren't you?"

She nodded excitedly, "Yep. I am."

She turned over to you and gazed at your fucked out face, smoothing your hair.

"Now everyone will know, I'm not your best friend."

You grinned. "Yeah, you're right," you gently kissed her swollen lips, "but everyone will know I'm not your best friend, either."

Robin looked at you questioningly.

A devilish smile came across your face.

"It's your turn."

[ambrosialdesire]

cacoëthes

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 reiner x fem!reader word count: 12.7k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping mention, gore/violence, minor character death mention, usage of the word "dog" in a derogatory/offensive/mocking sense, chasing (hide-and-seek kinda), misogyny, physical assault, suicidal ideations (reader talks about dying a lot), stockholm syndrome, heavy manipulation/guilt-tripping, p*rn w/ plot, noncon/dubcon, hatefucking, mean dom reiner at first, praise & degradation, hair-pulling, slapping, forced f & m oral sex, vaginal sex, sorta missionary, slight belly-bulge mention, doggy-style, breeding (mating press), choking (sexual and nonsexual), marking, virginity loss (both of you), overstimulation (both of you), edging, dacryphilia kinda, mind-break (reader is implied to kinda lose her mind), size kink, brief tit-sucking/breast play, reiner has a short refractory period bc i said so >:), kinda aot spoilers if you haven't watched it before, all characters are 18+ synopsis: everything has fallen apart by the seams even more. reiner knows everything and you have nothing else to lose. taking your chances, you escape his clutches by slipping through liberio's alleyways but there's only a handful of buildings that can hide you before he catches you. terrified isn't the only word to describe what you were feeling and you can't imagine what he'd do to you if he gets his hands on you. a/n: finally the whorish activities begin! thank you all sm for the support for this series and my other fics! i've also reached over 1k likes in this blog and wow, i literally can't believe that my writing got this much attention in roughly 6-8 months! ik i said that i would be doing a konig fic before posting this and a hell of a lot of kinktober prompts but a bunch of shit came up irl that made it nearly impossible to have time to myself and this blog. really sorry about that but life happens unfortunately. anyways, i really ended this series off with a bang (literally) and i hope the ending is somewhat good enough. i would like to thank my friend for getting me back into aot bc without them, i wouldn't have seen the final episode nor would have made this blog. i think 6th/7th grade me would've been so surprised but feel so complete knowing that aot reached its end in the anime. thank you all again for investing and reading the cacoëthes series!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

It's over.

Three years of meticulous and dedicated planning were all torn away by a single bullet. What were the chances of this happening? Why did you never consider that he would kill the old man like this? He was supposed to be completely knocked out. The dosage was supposed to be enough for you to escape.

Everything was supposed to go your way.

"H-how are you even... Wh... Why did y-you..." You gripped the jacket in the middle of your chest, the air weighing heavy with every frightened breath you took. A man was dead because of you. No... because of him.

Where did he even get a gun?!

Reiner stopped aiming the rifle towards you, standing up straight while letting the gun fall to his side. There was no hint of any exhaustion from the drugs except the fact that he was heaving slowly, most likely from running. His appearance was definitely disheveled, the rain pulling down at his clothes and short hair. In the twisted crevices in your mind, you would've found it just a tiny bit attractive.

Regardless of that, you should've never underestimated him in the first place. How could you forget that he graduated second overall in the 104th Training Corps right behind Mikasa, the most terrifyingly strongest woman that matched up right to Annie’s level. You barely even reached the top twenty when you graduated, let alone the top ten.

He said nothing but raised his hand, beckoning for you to come to him as if you were some kind of lost pet. Was he joking? You shook your head and stood your ground, strands of wet hair sticking onto your skin. There was no telling whether it was the rain that caused that or the blood. He murdered an old man — he was a Marleyan traitor sure, but he was still a human — just to keep you here.

"Y/N—"

"No!" You finally snapped, the wind carrying the words that you've held back for so long. "I'm not coming home with you! I'm never going back, I'd rather die than carrying your fucking spawn!"

"You don't mean that."

How delusional can he be? Can nothing get through that stupidly thick skull of his?

"I meant Every! Single! Word! I hate you Reiner. I've always hated you! For three years, I had to put up with all of your shit! Not because I was beginning to fall for you or that you made me realize that maybe something… something in Marley was worth staying for, but because I was trying to survive. I did everything in order to live through this torment that you forced me into. So no matter what you do, no matter what you say, no matter who you kill," Your fists were balled up so tightly, you were sure that it had cut through the skin of your palms.

"I'll never love you."

It felt like the largest weights of the world had finally lifted off your shoulders and it took all your might to finally look him in the eyes after your confession. He bore a face of devastation, his mouth parted open and eyes wide in a state of complete shock.

You grinned, partially because you were happy to finally say something that bruised his spirit. Now that he was frozen in place and his eyes were slightly glazed over, you had to hastily figure out the controls for the boat.

As you turned away to try and get into the control room, the sound of the rifle went off once more. What the hell did he shoot at? The whistle of the bullet neared and suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through your arm. You cried out in pain, almost stumbling onto the corpse below you. In an instant, you placed your hand over the fresh wound, your undivided attention now back onto him. The rifle was back up and full aimed, faint amounts of steam coming out of the end.

Reiner shot you.

Though you were quite a distance away, you could tell that something changed in him. This was not the same man that you've just screamed all the vile profanities at. You had to get away, now. There was no time to figure out the controls, not when he's now trudging towards you at an alarming rate. You got off, nearly colliding to the ground from the rock of the boat and the slickness of the rained docks.

"Y/N!" He screamed your name out and you could hear the rage laced behind it. If he caught you, you were a dead woman. You started running, as fast as your legs could carry you. In an endless blur, you went from the docks into the empty streets of Liberio.

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

You dashed left into an alleyway, almost stumbling and slipping on the smoothly cobbled streets, turning towards the farthest right that you were able to reach. Ducking down into a pile of soggy old boxes, you continue to grasp at your injured arm. You couldn't see the damage that was done but you could feel it, clenching your teeth as you ran your fingers across the wound.

You winced and cringed wordlessly as you tried to figure out how big it was and how deep the bullet went, feeling a good amount of your blood trickle down your fingers. There was no entry hole so he must've grazed you, but it was barely a miss in your opinion as it continued to gush out liquid at an alarming rate. You quickly glanced up at the storming sky, watching the lightning zip through the inky clouds before ripping a heaping chunk out of the end of your dress, timing it with the clashing clap of the thunder.

You bit down on the other part of the cloth as you tightly secured it around your wound. The effects of fatigue were finally starting to overtake you now that you had the chance to relax, the adrenaline within your veins weaning off bit by bit. With every breath you took, your lungs ached and burned unwillingly. Not to mention, your feet were definitely all cut up from scurrying around barefoot. You couldn't get tired here, not when you were running from a literal madman.

The wet stomps of boots neared and you stiffened up once more, hyper-focused on which direction it was going. It was unsettlingly still, the air suddenly feeling stuffy and murky as you held your hands against your mouth and nose. The situation felt exactly like the elevator in Trost, where groups of Titans were slowly closing in and all you could do was wait.

You tried to take in slow and steady breaths, but it was more difficult than you realized. There was a growing pressure on your chest that was making it completely strenuous in order to breathe properly, and to make matters worse, your heart was beating at an alarming rate. It had to be absurdly loud from the way you could hear it thump away at your eardrums.

"Where are you?" He trailed his voice off in a taunting manner, his breathing hard yet erratic. You could only imagine his eyes darting about in the dark, trying to pinpoint your exact location.

"I'm going to fucking find you and when I do—" The sound of a crate being kicked and smashed against the brick wall nearby made you flinch, your hands gripping onto your mouth harder as you began to shake in fear.

"Y/N, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, honest. I'm just... losing my temper. It's your fault y'know but I didn't mean to shoot you — well, I did, what else would stop you from running too far?" The more he spoke, the more nauseous you felt. Reiner really lost his goddamn mind.

The minutes felt like hours the more he stood there trying to figure out where you've wandered off to. You closed your eyes and started to pray, as if some God would be listening to someone like you. The sounds of shuffling and a frustrated growl slowly started to fade away from your proximity, and you let out a silent shaky exhale of relief.

You felt absolutely filthy. Your clothes were torn up, you were sitting in a dirty alleyway, and blood was all over you. It's a miracle that you were even still alive right now.

If you didn't move now, he'd double back to check the areas he originally skipped over. Peeking over the boxes, you slowly got up, trying to change your position along to the sound of the thunder and wind. You peered around the corners of the alleyway, not being able to see a few feet in front of you from the sudden appearance of fog. You could use it to your advantage. Reiner didn't know where you specifically were either; there was your second advantage.

In the same alleyway you were currently in, there were other various passageways. Despite being here for so long, you haven't really memorized the layout of the internment zone. Ugh, you should have done so in the first place but you didn't really create a plan B to your escape plan. It was all going swimmingly up until that moment.

Maybe there was a way that you could retrace your steps back to the boat but you ran mindlessly, just thinking about how to get as far away from him as possible. You couldn't really think, not when he had continuous months of training and you barely had any brush up of any of your skills.

You exhaled and started walking with your body snug against the wall at a brisk pace, taking a few look backs just in case. In your mind, you had to have hope. The kind of hope that you were able to get back to the fishing docks before he could find you. Liberio was a pretty large area so it could take him a while to locate you, unless he transforms and wrecks every building in sight. That was unlikely since this was his home, but him waking up from the drugs was also unlikely and yet it still happened.

Fate was against you and so was time. When morning comes, you'll have nowhere to hide and there was the possibility that Reiner would alert the militia that a threatening "rogue" Eldian was wandering the streets. All you could rely on was yourself and hopefully that could be all you needed.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Lost.

You were lost.

You thought that if you just kept wandering around, then you'd end up in a street that you'd recognize and use it to get to the docks, but there was jack shit. Everything looked the same: the windows, the walls, the streets. The fog was starting to get on your nerves as well, the rain was able to loosen up but the haze was still blocking most of your vision.

Were you stuck in hell?

The good thing was that you hadn't heard any boots anywhere nearby so you definitely had to be a safe distance away from Reiner. A warm dribble ran down your arm, causing you to halt. The laceration was still bleeding, the cloth now a darker shade of red than before. It was to the point where it was steadily dripping down your fingertips and onto the stones. If you died from blood loss before getting on the boat, it would be better than nothing.

"C'mon me. You've been through worse," You mumbled quietly to yourself as you tore another piece off from the dress, tying it over the soaked one. "You're almost there."

It had to be past midnight by now, time felt like it was working differently once you became lost. Like clockwork, you began moving once more. You had no other choice in the matter, any more hesitation and you'd get caught. Everything felt like it was at its complete limit than before but you had to push through, for your sake.

If you got out of here, you swore to be a better person. You'd be more hesitant, more calloused towards others. Back in Paradis, your kindness was the literal death of you. You held too much trust in others and look where it got you, married to an insane man who's been fucking up your life since day one when the breach occurred in Wall Maria. You were merely a puppet in the hands of Reiner and it wasn't fair.

When the Armored Titan ran through the Shiganshina District, the rubble that came from it pulverized your family. That marked the very moment where you became an orphan. A child to no one.

There were no final goodbyes, there was nothing. You didn't even get to see them brutally pass either. When you dashed home after the Colossal Titan kicked the wall in, you came upon the discovery that your house was completely crushed, fresh crimson splattered everywhere. Would that have made you feel better? Seeing them lose their lives right in front of you?

You don't even remember how you got on one of the escape boats, everything was a faded blur. As the boat sailed out of Shiganshina, you knew deep in your heart that if you had gotten home sooner from the market right before the Colossal Titan came, you would've died with them and that would be it.

You wouldn't have the unwavering decision to join the training corps the moment you became of age. You wouldn't have been matched up and sparring with Reiner for the first time just because Instructor Shadis wanted you to have a challenge. You wouldn't have been saved from him during the Trost disaster. You wouldn't have befriended both him and Bertolt afterwards, acting like the three of you were the bestest of friends. You wouldn't have been shipped off to Marley like a piece of precious stone that he had caught sight of. You wouldn't be in this complicated and hectic situation in the first place.

Placing a hand on your face, you realized that tears had started to wet your cheeks. When did you start crying? How long has it been since the last time you've cried this much? It was back when you had that fight with Porco, wasn’t it? He’d call you a crybaby if he saw you right now. Besides that, how long has it been since you've contemplated your past to the point where you started crying about it again? A soft hiccup left your lips and you sniffed, wiping the tears away with your hands.

You wondered if your parents would be proud of you for trying to escape the very person that took away their lives. Your older sister and brother could be cheering you on and that's why you're still standing despite the many things that happened to you. Afterall, they've always wanted the best for you. Your little brother would be telling you that if you gave up now, he'd take all of your favorite candies and toys and play without you. You wrapped your arms around you and sobbed, heavy tears dripping down your nose and jaw.

Reiner took all that pure love from you without even knowing and tried to replace it with a festering rot, something that he thinks is love. He betrayed you over and over again, misconstruing everything that you've done for him as the desires and pursuits of romance. Nothing in the world can redeem what he has done to you, he created too many shattered pieces.

As you finally looked up through your tear-blurred vision, the fog began to part to the point where you were able to see through it. You wiped your eyes, in disbelief in what you saw. It couldn't be, could it? Piled up boats. Ocean. The dock.

You… did it? You did it. You did it!

The soreness in your body felt suddenly a million times better as you ran forwards, the air in your lungs feeling even more fresher than before. Your eyes ran through the various ships, trying to find Mr. Kraus' as fast as you could. Adrenaline pumped through you when you spotted the lantern at the edge, almost cheering loudly in the night. You stepped slowly aboard, trying to ignore the fact that the captain was still lying dead on the deck.

Crouching down, you placed two fingers over his eyelids and shut them close. His body had long gone cold but you felt absolutely awful. At least he was with his son again.

Should you... bring him along for the ride? You'd probably dump the body once you were more at sea but it was only fair. He was able to give you this chance of escape and the most you could do for him now was to take him to a place where no one would bother him anymore.

You rummaged carefully through his pockets, finding a key located in his chest. There was a photo of his son and him connected to it, so you decided to remove it and tuck the picture back into his jacket pocket. "Thank you Mr. Kraus. For everything."

Entering the control room, you felt like a completely new woman. Under the darkness of the night, you struggled to locate where the key was supposed to be inserted. You've never operated machinery this complicated before or rather, any machinery. ODM gear and the kitchen appliances were the closest you’ve ever learned about that was a machine. Reiner never bought a car, he was probably worried that you'd use it to escape or because a woman wasn't able to drive one. They were pricey too, his warrior salary was pretty good but not good enough to buy one of them.

Fumbling around for a bit, you finally inserted it into something that felt like it was fit for a key and twisted, the instrument panel lighting up and the boat roaring to life. Letting out a light laugh of relief, your focus was now on how to make it go forwards. There were a bunch of levers and buttons, most of them not labeled or containing numbers that made your head spin. Well, there was this big red lever so it must be indicating that it was the forward—

A large arm wrapped around your throat behind you, utter horror and anguish shooting through your body as your thoughts were completely interrupted. They squeezed hard around your neck and pulled you back roughly, making you gag and involuntarily fall backwards towards the violator. You could only assume the worst on who it was.

Your nails dug deeply into his rigid muscle as you desperately tried to escape, your vision beginning to form dark spots from the lack of oxygen. No... no! This can't end here! You've gotten so fucking far, you're not about to lose now.

You reared your foot back into his knee, hearing him cry out in pain and loosen up around your neck. Dropping one arm from clawing apart the skin, you elbowed as hard as you could into his stomach. He didn't let go and you kept hitting, letting out a flurry of choked out curses at him until he finally released you. Falling to the ground, you grasped at your throat, sharply coughing up and heaving as you tried to breathe properly again.

"FUCK! You... You still got it." He coughed a few times, a grin forming on his face.

"It took me a whi... a while to find where you went, but then I saw the blood trail you left behind and saw... that you were heading back to the dock. Terrible decision to be honest." Reiner was out of breath too, probably because you beat the shit out of his stomach and chest trying to free yourself. Steam was rising off of him though so he'd be fine in a matter of minutes while you still struggled to get a good word in.

"But it's the end of the line, no more running. We're going home."

"I'm... I-I'm not going." You managed to blurt out before coughing again but you knew you couldn't move any longer, everything was starting to hurt again.

"Don't you get it? There's nothing for you in Paradis, you only have me." Reiner crouched to your level, resting his hand on your shoulder just like he did back when you were still soldiers. Why was he acting like he was still this merciful and kind knight? He was far from it.

"I'll carry you and clean you up, don't worry."

You spat on his face, watching the liquid dribble down his face as you scowled. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you fucking dog."

It was an abrupt pain.

He raised a hand and struck you, hard. Hard enough to almost make you black out from the sheer force. Hard enough to have the dark spots in your vision make its reappearance.

The side where he hit you made your ear ring and every inch of your cheek had a lingering sting. You could taste the hint of iron on your tongue as you turned your head back to look at him. He was infuriated, more so than when you tried poisoning him. Oh, so that's what pisses him off.

"Don't you fucking dare call me that."

You spat the blood out of your mouth, beginning to giggle like a fool.

"Why? Isn't that what you exactly are? Cause your dear Marleyan daddy didn't love your poor devil mommy enough to stay for either of you."

Reiner struck you again with the same amount of force and you started laughing aloud, feeling more blood trickle down and into your mouth. Maybe the blood loss was making you spiral out of control. Who cares? Everything was starting to fade and go all static-like so who cares what's coming out of your mouth right now.

You started to slump down to the ground unwillingly, the world feeling woozy and cold. Your burning limbs were on the brink of snapping off from moving too much this past evening that you could no longer support yourself. He stopped you from collapsing any further however, holding you against him as if he hadn't previously slapped the literal soul out of you.

If you died here, you'd die not being held by him. Weakly, you tried pushing yourself out of his arms but didn't budge an inch. He leaned close to your ear, bushing strands away from it. You weren't able to hear what he said, losing consciousness the minute he began to speak.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

You wished everything was still a dream. To no surprise, you awoke back at home on the bed, completely cleaned and patched up. You were no longer wearing the filthy dress and jacket, rather you were in a nightgown; not in your most provocative one luckily. It absolutely ached — even to just hardly shift around — so you didn't bother punishing yourself that much, only barely moving your head here and there.

The first thing you noticed after your eyes adjusted was the coverings of your injuries. Your arm gun wound was wrapped up in bandages and there were smaller dressings around your feet; damn, he really took care of you while you were still passed out. The next thing you noticed was how Reiner wasn't in the room, probably preoccupied with something. Right, he had to leave for another battle.... today? What time was it? What day was it?

You turned your head towards the closet, seeing that it was pried completely open, the hinges nearly torn off the wall. He probably hid the rifle in there for years and you've never noticed it, even when you were hiding something in there too. Everything was knocked over as if he was in a panic trying to find it and you weakly sat up to see the casualties of the items in there, your heart sinking down in your stomach as you saw the shoebox knocked over and the contents inside being completely empty. He knows, he had to.

At that moment, the door swung open and you winced trying to fall back down on the bed to pretend that you were still sleeping. It was pointless however, he already entered before you could close your eyes.

"You're awake. Morning— er... Good evening actually." From what you can barely see from the hallway light, Reiner had a bowl of soup in one hand and the journal — your journal — in the other. Can this get any worse?

"It's been four days—"

"Four?!" You shot up, wincing as your muscles pulled themselves taut. He settled the soup bowl down on the nightstand, turned on the lamp, and pushed you back down on the bed, hushing you like you were some kid. "Why are you still here then? Aren't you supposed to fight in another stupid self-war?"

"I told my superiors that you severely injured yourself to the point where you weren't able to move. I didn't tell them that you were trying to escape because they would've taken you away from me, luck is once again on your side." He lightly laughed as if it was some funny joke.

"Anyways, since you didn't have family here and my family refused to take care of you, I told them that I wanted to stay until you got better. After that, I'll do whatever they want me to do. You can call this an extended vacation." He explained and you wanted to throw yourself off of the building right now.

"Can't you just kill me already?" You groaned in anguish and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"No can do, I love you too much to do that."

"Well I don't love you."

"I know. I've been reading this little book of yours when I woke up from that trick of yours and stumbled across it," He shook it in his hands and opened it to a random page, your face contorting to panic. "Nearly three years of extensively written details about how much you hate me."

"Reiner—"

"Here's a passage from last year on July 5th: Reiner's downstairs right now so I'll make this quick. He asked me again about children, well not really asked, alluded to the fact that he wants them. There was some kids playing outside, kicking around a ball, and he said that he wished that we had a child to join them. I didn't say anything in reply. But I can't take it anymore, I have to get out of here. A child between us would be detrimental to my sanity, I couldn't bring myself to love it. Not when it's a part of him." His voice was cold as he read and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

He went on to read more pages, paragraphs of you talking about wanting to kill him, the failed methods you had planned, the whole plan between Mr. Kraus and you. Did you feel embarrassed that he finally found out that you were acting or humiliated that everything went wrong? You heard the noise of flipping pages and he cleared his throat.

"This was the final thing you wrote in this. I'll skip the beginning since it's not the main point I want you to hear." Your eyes widened and shot up, your hand darting painfully to grab the journal from him. He can read anything, anything but that excerpt. He stepped back and you fell off the bed with a heavy thump, a strangled out cry coming out of you. Your arms shook as you attempted to push yourself up, but he kicked you back down to the floor and placed a sturdy boot down on the middle of your back. You yelled out to him to stop — to stop reading the very secrets you kept from him — your voice starting to go hoarse.

"...If you, Reiner, find this when I'm long gone, know that I've always hated you. I've always been sickened by your touch and your kisses, I never meant any of those I love yous, and I've always wished you died horribly during the times you went off to those battles. I wanted to receive a letter or be told personally that you were killed in action, shot down by the cannons that were able to pierce through your armor." Reiner dug his heel into you, an agonizing shriek being pulled out of your beaten body.

"I'd weep, not of sadness but of joy because I would be finally be free from your clutches. Whatever you thought you taught me in order to be your perfect spouse, I was playing a role in order to survive this insanity of yours. I never loved you and I never will. Don't try to go back to Paradis to find me. You would have to bring back my dead body in order to bring me back to Marley." This was a complete and utter nightmare.

"I treated you to a life of safety, I took care of you when you were sick and injured. I didn't have sex with you because I wanted to respect your space. I fed you, clothed you, I did everything. I put you on a pedestal all because I love you." He dug deeper into your spine, your nails scraping into the wood.

"And this is what I get in return? An ungrateful little bitch who'd rather be ripped apart by Pure Titans than love me. A fucking whore that bats her eyes at a different man while calling the man she's married to a dog."

You gritted your teeth as hot tears poured down your face. "Yeah, that's right. I'd rather die horribly against a Titan if it meant that I'd never be with you. I'd fuck Porco if I could, I would do it behind your back if I wanted to too. Out of everyone you chose in Paradis, you married the one that was too much trouble. That's what Hoover said about me, right?"

His foot finally came off your back, letting you finally breathe, until he crouched down and pushed you up against the side of the bed, holding you there. Reiner was pissed beyond belief, teeth bared at you. "He did. He did and even if he was right, I didn't care because I thought I could change you."

"But you never were able to, you failed. Nothing you can do can change how I feel about you. But what can I expect—" Your narrowed eyes met with his, seeing the conflicted anger bubble in his brown irises. A small smug smirk grew on your face, your head tilting off to the side tauntingly.

"A dog will always be a dog."

A singular hand wrapped around your neck in a flash, the sheer force making you gag as he cut off your air flow once more. You fought back, trying to pull off his arm with both of your hands around his forearm. Small little sparks flickered off of him, fear melting into your expression. If you weren't imagining it, that would've meant that he was ready to turn. If you so much as put the smallest scratch on him, he'd transform. He'd kill everyone in the vicinity because of you.

" 'M s... s-sorry." You strangled out and he finally let you go, watching you fall back onto the ground. Your neck had to be bruised from getting violently choked all the damn time.

"If that's how you see me, fine. I'll just fuck you like one since that's all you see me as."

What?! Did you hear him right? That was literally the last thing you wanted! And maybe that's why he's resorting to it, the sick fucker.

The sound of a belt unbuckling caught your attention and you panicked, quickly pushing him away and attempted to retreat by crawling. Everything in your body still sorely burned but it was better than getting your virginity taken. He grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back, making you shriek in surprise. Before standing up, he placed you back in your original position, making you sit on the ground right in front of him with your head against the side of the mattress.

"I should've done this right from the start." Reiner sneered, pulling out his partially-hard dick from the confines of the dark uniform pants he wore. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, thighs and mouth clenching tightly as if they were suddenly glued together. On numerous awkward occasions and the night of the Porco incident, you've felt it up against you but never seen it like this; the only time you ever seen a dick was diagrams of it in class during the training corps.

But this monster!? No fucking way that thing of his would fit anywhere inside your body. It was stupidly thick, his hand loosely wrapped around the veiny shaft as he slowly stroked himself hard directly in front of you. The tip towards the midpart of his cock was slightly flushed a soft pink and when he tugged back the skin for you to see, the tip was actually a rosy color. You couldn't even bring yourself to describe how hefty his balls were as they rested on the outside of his pants.

Reiner's heart was thumping hard as he jerked himself right in front of your face, his cheeks burning up as your owlish eyes stared at it. Was it that fascinating? This was terribly embarrassing for him — he was still a virgin too and this was technically the first time he's done anything sexual in your conscious presence — but you've led him on for years, this was punishment for the cruel lies you've fed.

He let out a quiet, shaky breath when he showed you the tip, your curious eyes still observing him. God, the two of you should've done this way back in the honeymoon. Maybe this wasn't the way he wanted each other's first times to be, but he would be lying if your stubbornness wasn't completely making him hard right now.

Once it was completely at full mast, you were pretty sure it was bigger than the length of your face. This was a threat, a danger to your body.

"Open." You glared at him and shook your head in refusal, even going so far to put your hands over your mouth. Who the hell does he think he is? He scoffed, his free hand grabbing the hair at the back of your head and jerking it back roughly. Asshole.

"Open. Or else."

You rolled your eyes at him, removing one hand as if you were complying. Instead, you put your middle finger up and smugly smiled under your other hand. He frustratingly growled under his breath and pulled at your hair again, holding onto it this time around until your scalp began to sting. You started slapping and hitting at his thigh to make him stop, carefully trying to avoid touching it. If this went any longer, he'd probably sever your scalp from your skull. But he refused to let go, waiting until you took off your hand and replaced it with him.

"Alright! I'll fucking do it! Just stop!" Screaming into your hand, you finally unwillingly gave in after the pain got too much for you but hesitated to even lay a finger on it. He loosened his grip but still held onto your hair, lightly caressing it between his fingers.

He was still holding it in one hand so you put your hands on his thighs and nervously leaned in. Closing your eyes shut, you shakily placed the tip in between your lips. It was warmer than you thought, a sticky substance staining your lips as you began to pull away. Was that satisfying enough for him? Absolutely not. Unbeknownst to you, he had other plans, unexpectedly shoving his cock through and bottoming out completely.

Your eyes shot open as you gagged badly, trying to wiggle out of his grip and recoiling your head backwards against the mattress. Panic ran through your body as he refused to let go, only pushing in impossibly deeper down your throat. This wasn't meant to be in your mouth, much less shoved completely down your throat without care. You resorted to try and settle down, breathing through your nose in panicked bursts. If you threw up on him, he'd probably pull out but if he didn't, you'd choke on your own vomit.

An audible groan came out of him once everything was in and he clenched at your hair. Reiner partially felt sorry for doing this to you but he couldn't resist when he watched you basically give a cute little kiss on his tip. He tilted his head to the side, experimentally thrusting in short bursts and watching your reaction. The inside of your mouth was insanely hot and you kept vocally protesting, sending vibrations down and against his dick. You kept constantly moving, almost bobbing your head back and forth along with his light prodding, persistently trying to get him out. He felt your tongue stroking against the bottom of his shaft, a shiver going down his spine.

Your tear-stricken gaze looked up at him, inadvertently begging him to free you from this but he only felt himself become even more stiff. Shit, he could cum right there and now. It felt too good for him to take it out just because you were suffocating, you deserved all of this after all.

Tears began to fall down your cheeks as he kept his cock locked in, your jaw already aching from being pried open for so long. You tried biting down but the sheer thickness made it quite literally impossible. You didn't want to die suffocating on his dick, what a humiliating headstone that would be. Here lies Y/N Braun: Beloved daughter and wife, died being forced to appease her husband sexually since she wasn't able to escape Marley fast enough.

Reiner suddenly started to let out soft grunts and forcibly pushed you closer from the back of your head with both hands, your face flushed against his lower half. Something viscously warm went down your throat in inconsistent spurts, eyes widening in shock as you were forced to swallow the liquid. What the fuck, did he just—!?

Copious amounts of drool and still-warm cum spilled out as he finally pulled out, the fluids dribbling down your chin as you started coughing up a lung. The taste was unlike anything you had before, meshing from a dull salty to a bearable bittersweet flavor. To your horror, he was still hard, twitching right in front of you as pearl-like beads of white ran down his length. Weren't men supposed to go soft afterwards?

Reiner didn't say anything, only panting before crouching down to your level. You shot a glare at him as you rubbed your throat, heaving slowly. Unlike you, his large pupils were blown out with lustful possession and he dove in to kiss you, ignoring the fact that he was consuming his own fluids intermingled with your saliva.

You fought back, teeth hitting teeth. It only egged him on however, pushing you against the bedside as he continued to ravage your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip. An involuntary gasp slipped out and he pushed his tongue in, the muscle brushing against yours. You could barely breathe, completely overwhelmed with everything that was happening to you.

Large hands grabbed at your hips and pulled you closer to his lower half, your body twitching at the sudden movement. You went to shove him off while he was distracted sucking your face off, but he barely pulled away to let the two of you breathe. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes locked on each other as the two of you drew in intense, erratic breaths.

"Can Porco kiss you like that?"

You were rendered speechless, Reiner suddenly picking you up from the ground. You didn't fight him when he did, already exhausted and still shellshocked from what he had asked. He laid you down on your back but your legs still dangled off the bed, confusion forming in your expression. His figure shadowed over you, the lamp barely illuminating his features.

He thought you were still so pretty despite becoming a mess that he caused, your eyes still glimmering in uncertainty. Since you've graciously let him accidentally ejaculate in your mouth, he had to return the favor to you, even if he was still angry at you. Tonight was the night to do absolutely everything, even if you still hated him at the end. He'll change your feelings towards him no matter what, even if he reached the end of his Titan's inheritance.

He dropped down in front of you, lifting up one of your legs and started placing short kisses down your calf to your inner thigh. It was sorta ticklish, partially because of his stubble, until he started needily sucking and licking the skin. You bit down on your tongue, tired of giving any satisfaction of whether something he did was pleasurable to you. He won't win, not this time around.

He reached for your other leg as he dropped the other on his shoulder, and repeated his actions, biting down when he was close to your womanhood. You winced at the pain, trying to push his face away with your hand. But before you could, Reiner pulled away and you swore you saw your blood stained on his teeth before he licked it away.

"What are you—" You inhaled sharply as a finger tentatively prodded against your covered hole, face immediately erupting in heat.

"You're wet." Reiner bluntly stated as he withdrew it, a string of your fluids still attached. He was just as surprised as you were. He didn't even do anything to you yet, unless you liked getting your throat stuffed with every inch of him. His cock twitched impatiently underneath him, no longer drenched with your saliva and his cum.

"W-wait that can't be, I-I..." You fumbled around your words, utterly lost on what was happening to your body. You tried to sit up but he started to tug your nightgown upwards, alarms setting off in your ears. You couldn't be attracted to this, to him.

"Hold on. R-Reiner st... stop—" You were cut short when he pressed two of his fingers back onto the dampened cloth, slowly beginning to rub up and down. One hand shot up to your mouth, swallowing down any little moans that tried to escape. The pleasurable shivers from the last time he fondled you were back, a shudder going down your spine.

Reiner wanted more, almost ripping the fabric off. But he restrained himself, no matter how much his dick was begging to be touched or be inside of you. He pulled them off, weaving it through your legs before you could protest and enveloped his mouth in-between your slickened folds. He groaned heavily against you, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. You tasted so sweet, better than he had ever imagined in his mind. He began to lap up the liquids that continued to gush out with every stir of his tongue, your thighs squishing his head.

He could die a happy man now that he finally had a taste of you.

You shivered as his tongue teased around your hole, greedily licking up your arousal that continued to spill out. The hand against your mouth clenched into a fist and your fingers ached as they gripped the sheets underneath you tightly, head throwing back as he began to attentively suck on your hardened clit. Why the hell was he so good? It was impossible to think that he learned this from someone else.

Unconsciously, you pushed your hips more towards his face and bucked when he laid his tongue flat against you. Soft moans started to slip out along with your panting, the fuzzy pleasure getting to your head. His hands grabbed the meat of your thighs and forced you to stay open, his grip tightening if you tried to close them. This shouldn't feel so good, betrayal whispering in every cell of your brain.

"Reiner," A pathetic whimper of his name came out of your mouth before you could stop it. He looked up at you, still dragging his tongue from your entrance to the hardened nub. "Please, please stop, s-something doesn't feel right."

He ignored you per usual, as if anything you say now would change anything, but his eyes never left yours. There was a sort of pressure building up around your lower half and it was terrifying, you didn't know what was going to transpire. As if he knew what was happening, the pacing of his tongue quickened, your hand shooting up and grabbing his hair. The sensation was too much for you to handle. As you tried to tug him away from your pussy, he moaned against you, a shot of pleasure running through you.

You were close, he could tell from how much you desperately started to ride against his tongue, his nose nudging against your clit with every little flinch. The influx of juices that were leaking out started to even become more apparent. You couldn't hide it, you loved him pleasuring you. He would've been willing to do this for you whenever you asked, all you had to do was let him into your heart. As much as he wanted you to suffer, he's a kind man, he'll let you release in his mouth. Without hesitation, Reiner started to rub your clit with his fingers as he tongue-fucked your entrance, feeling your walls clench around the muscle.

Your involuntary moans became louder until your orgasm hit you fast and hard, your back arching as blinding white stars filled your vision. Your body shuddered and rode against his face, your hand accidentally gripping his hair too hard and pulling him close to your pussy. It felt like you were knocked dizzy as if he had struck you once more, panting heavily as you came down from that giddy high bit by bit. He finally pulled away but still was lazily rubbing your clit, your body quivering with every teasing rotation.

"You did so good baby, you're so good." Reiner quietly praised, placing a wet kiss on your thigh. You couldn't say anything in reply, still completely drained out of everything. He removed his fingers away and got up, your body lightly twitching from the loss of contact.

You had to watch him remove his shirt, heart skipping as you saw the ripples of muscle you've avoided to look at for years. God, you missed out on a lot. His chest was beefier than you expected, only feeling it against you through his hugs and the occasional times that you've accidentally touched them.

He pushed down his pants further, almost completely bare from what you were able to see. There was a trail of slightly dark blonde hair above the base of his dick, the wisps of it stopping below his belly button. The sound of thuds from his boots followed suit and were shoved aside with his foot. Terror began to claw out through the warm haze as he pulled you more to the edge by your hips and started to line his cock up to your entrance, the fat tip nearing your hole as he held onto one of your thighs to keep you open.

"W-Wait Reiner, it's not going to fit!" You begged, the realization finally hitting. You were going to get destroyed by him. If you finally got fucked, there was no going back. There was a chance that you were never going to be the same person ever again afterwards.

"I don't care, I'm fucking you whether or not it fits." He lowly growled, his personality doing a complete turnaround suddenly. You tried struggling, hands shooting up to his chest and pushing, digging your nails into his stupidly meaty pecs as he ignored you. Your legs were wildly kicking around in protest from a sudden shot of adrenaline, but the hand on your thigh had squeezed you to the point where you thought he would rip your flesh right off if you kept fighting him. There was no way out of this anymore, complete and utter hopelessness settling in the pit of your stomach as you finally gave into his desire.

He pushed the uncut tip in through your folds, a pained whine coming out of you as he continued to stretch you out. It burned as he slowly and completely sheathed himself in you, hot tears falling down your cheeks. He was simply too big for your poor body to handle, unused to anything being inside. You uncontrollably tightened around him, almost hyperventilating from the pain.

"Reiner it hurts, take it out please!" You cried out and tried to move off of it, only meeting with painful throbs in your gaped cunt. The hand that held you open went to your hip and kept you steady, still speared around his cock.

Reiner used his free hand and wiped your tears away, licking his thumb afterwards. Was that supposed to be some form of dull comfort? What a jerk, punishing you like this. A few more agonizing seconds went by and he experimentally rolled his hips against you, a gasp shooting out of you as you felt the tip briefly press against your cervix.

You started pleading with a mantra of his name, teary eyes inspecting his, searching for some sort of penitence. There was nothing, nothing but a burning fire of anger. It was your fault that it had gotten this far, the rage blinding him to go through this sort of tortuous action.

Maybe if you let him do you once before, he would've been satiated from the start.

He was holding himself back, feverish gummy walls clenching onto his cock like a vise. You were babbling like an idiot from the slightest movement, saying his name as if it was the only thing that was keeping you from going mad. He thought that it was cute how you started shortening his name to only Rei, he'd never heard that before.

"Did you forget how much you hate my guts? How much you'd rather die than get fucked by me, a dog?" Reiner finally spoke, taunting as he began to rub your clit, watching how your head rolled back into the messed up sheets in complete submission.

"Fuck. I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whimpered out a quick apology, the same build-up of pressure forming in the pit of your stomach. Why were you apologizing? You never felt the slightest bit of pity for this man before, but you'd do anything for him to get this thing out of you as soon as possible.

"Rei, I'm sorry. I really am. You're not — ah — you're not a dog. Y-you're not. T-take it out please, you're too big."

"Sorry doesn't fix what you said." He felt you clench up, pulling him in deeper. He started to pick up his pace, embarrassing squelching sounds of your sopping pussy becoming louder as he started to steadily pound into you. Reiner watched with every heavy thrust he made, your stomach would slightly bulge out. He almost laughed at the sight, he really is too big for you.

"Reiner—"

"Sorry doesn't fix what you wrote." You couldn't stop yourself from crying out as he ceaselessly bobbed back and forth, the stretch becoming less and less painful the more he fucked you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he hit a particular spot within you, core squeezing. He took notice from how your muscles tightened around him, beginning to angle himself to only hit that specific area, a towering pleasure enveloping your insides. This cursed man and his godforsaken attentiveness.

"Rei—"

You couldn't hold back your moans any longer, the constant stimulation on your clit and within your pussy was undeniably too good for your body to ignore.

"Sorry doesn't fix three years of lies." Reiner pushed himself in roughly, his lower half flushed against yours and you immediately fell apart, wanton moans following as you came on his cock in short spasms. His hand gripped your hip in an achingly rigid fashion as your walls fluttered, trying to milk him for all he's worth.

Disgust began to crawl in and you turned your head away from him as the euphoria fogged up your thoughts once more. He didn't stop despite you already finishing, short little whimpers escaping you as you felt his veiny shaft continuously bully your oversensitive walls. He leaned in and forced you to face him once more, kissing you hard but slow. Your arms wrapped around him suddenly, your hands clawing down into his back. He winced against your mouth and bit down on your lip in return, a painful cry slipping out as you pulled away for air.

Reiner dove back to kiss you, barely giving you any second to recuperate. Your moans muffled against his mouth as you came again without warning, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time as you unintentionally pulled his torso closer to yours with your arms. He let out a soft groan against your lips and you felt a burning warmth fill your insides up, devastation immediately filling your mind.

This was it. Everything that you've worked so hard for in order to prevent this scenario had crumbled to pieces. Was it really worth it to even try in the first place? You despised him, you hated his entire being so much.

You then realized that he hadn't pulled out, vaguely feeling that he was still hard but his pace going back to a slow rock. You were so exhausted and so sensitive, what more did he want out of you?

He could see that you were already getting weaker, slow and heavy breaths against his chest. Your pussy was still so warm and tight that his mouth nearly watered as he leisurely fucked you at a snail's pace. He needed more, needed more of you.

While still sheathed inside, Reiner lifted you up further into the middle of the bed and slowly turned you around, making you hold yourself up on your hands and knees. As much as your limbs burned and ached, every light movement he made within you had you twitch and gasp, grasping at the sheets beneath your palms. He carefully removed your nightgown, weaving it through your arms and head with little resistance and threw it somewhere in the room. You didn't try to hide your bare body from him anymore, flinching as you felt him lean over and lovingly kiss down from your nape to your back. For some reason, that pained you even more.

"You wanted a dog," Reiner's voice gruffly whispered into your ear, your eyes widening as his hips began to move away from yours. "So I'll give you a dog."

He completely pulled himself out of your pussy and sheathed it back in all at once, the thickness filling up your insides. You cried out in shock, almost barely noticing the fact that his inhumanely stiff cock was no longer hurting you but instead flooding your body with an undeniable pleasure. His hands gripped the side of your hips once more, setting a brutal pace that nearly had you start drooling.

With this new position that Reiner put you in, it felt like his cock was pushing impossibly deeper with every aggressive stroke and the oversensitivity had caused your gummy walls to keep squeezing along with his thrusts. Your arms were shaking even more, barely able to keep yourself up on your hands.

"Fuck baby, you're squeezing me so much." He groaned and from his tone, you knew he had the smuggest grin on his stupid face.

"Almost makes me think that you like getting fucked in this position." Reiner's warm body leaned against your back and one of his hands left your hip, wrapping itself around your throat and forcing you to make eye contact with him.

You were right — he was smiling like an idiot — a faint sheen of sweat laid on the skin of his face, small beads rolling down. From the lamp's light, you could see that he was flushed pink, similar to when he began to get alcohol into his system. Little did you know that he was pussy-drunk, obsessed in the way you squeezed down on his shaft with every thrust he did, trying so desperately to look like you weren't enjoying this when your body was saying otherwise.

"For someone that says that she hates me, you sure are taking me so well." He cooed, his teeth biting down on the corner of his lip.

"F-fuck you." You barely managed to say those words with his hand choking you but he finally let go, strands of hair falling into your face. Reiner chuckled to himself while placing his hand on the midst of your back, pushing you down until your chest was pressed against the bedding and your ass facing up.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Both of his hands resumed back onto the peaks of your hips and he started plunging his cock into you at an alarming rate. The unwavering pattern of wet slaps of skin-on-skin contact paired with the sounds of his heavy breathing and your short gasps started to make your head spin. Reiner's hands were squeezing your hips so tightly as he continued to ravage your drenched and dribbling hole, you were sure that his handprints left their mark behind.

It was animalistic and you could feel yourself slowly losing to the carnality of it all. In a matter of minutes without realizing it, you began to rock yourself back and forth to match up to his thrusts. Does it really matter anymore? Might as well enjoy it as much as you can.

"Hah— You wanna cum?" His hand slipped around, his fingers dawdling around your swollen clit, not quite putting pressure on it but enough to where it made you desperate.

You nodded quickly against the mattress and a sharp strike on your ass was given, your body jolting from the suddenness of it.

"Use your words." He teased and you swallowed your pride, tilting your head to the side.

"I wanna — ngh — I wanna c-cum." You mumbled quietly only to retrieve another strike to your ass, the flesh jiggling under his palm. His pace slowed back down, the pressure within you slowly fading away. No, no, no. You were almost there. You attempted to buck back on his cock in an urgent fashion but he held you still, frustration bubbling in your mind.

"Louder." His fingers traced over the welts and bruises on your skin, a shiver going down your spine. "Louder and I'll give you what you want."

You forgot that he was torturing you. This whole thing that he started was a punishment but the way his words and his light touches immediately went down to your cunt, you couldn't help but feel your body betray your mind. It felt too embarrassing to repeat until the fingers on your clit pressed down with more pressure and started to rapidly circle around the nub.

Why was he doing this? Part of you could care less, not when you could feel yourself getting close again. You moaned, grinding against his movements as if any apprehension that you once had before never existed in the first place. Close, you were getting so close once more and then he abruptly stopped, the pads of his fingertips slipping out from in-between your puffy lips.

You looked back at him with almost glassy eyes, a crushing disappointment bubbling in your throat. "W-what?! Why'd you stop?"

Reiner only smiled, as if he had done no harm. "What do you want again baby? I'm sorry, it slipped my mind."

Is... is he serious? No, he had to be joking. The cruel bastard was building you up, only to make you dissatisfied. Dissatisfied and wanting more. You bit the side of your tongue.

"I want you to make me cum." The familiar feeling of his hand hitting your ass again had your skin begin to throb, a pained cry escaping you. "P-Please."

"So polite are we?" You could feel the pads of his fingertips near your clit once more but his cock started to slip out of you, every slow inch of his veiny shaft sliding out of your walls left you breathless. He barely left the tip in you, mixed essences from the both of you beginning to slowly spill out and down your inner thighs. "But I didn't quite catch that."

From there, over and over, Reiner built you up towards your impending climax, only to pause when you were right about to burst. It was like he knew you were almost about to get there, as if he was some kind of prophet. His fingers were wet with slick and cum, and you were acutely aware of his cockhead tormentingly moving in and out of your hole with little to no movement.

Your body was trembling, not from the exhaustion anymore, and a complete haze of lust and desire sunk its claws deep into the crevices of your mind. How much longer would he play this game of his? You knew he was holding himself back, tormenting himself from the satisfaction he was seeking for the entire night. As his fingers slipped away from your swollen cunt for the umpteenth time in a row, all of a sudden, something inside you cracked.

"Reiner, please please I wanna cum. I-I need to cum. God, just fuck me already!" You cried out, grinding your lower half against his for any sort of stimulation in absolute delirium. Reiner felt your hand try to slip him back into you, but only resulting in his cock messily slipping through and clumsily bumping against your clit. You whined in mute anger but still rubbed yourself against the stiff shaft, making do with what you were given.

He was thrown off from how quickly you folded to his request, almost freezing at the sight. To see you in such an achingly frantic state was everything that he didn't know he needed. His poor, poor wife, maddened by the desire and pleasure. You missed out for years due to your pathetic vows to abstain from any sexual contact from him and now that you've gotten a taste, you became immediately addicted to the feeling. To him. How cruel it was for him to keep you away from his cock, his heart aching as tears begin to fall down your beautiful face. Oh how can he stay mad at you?

After all, he can never say no to his beloved wife.

As promised, he started putting more pressure as he rubbed your clit, sheathing his dick quickly inside of your hole. You've never felt such relief in your life, walls squeezing and welcoming his thickness in with every greedy plunge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk..." You mindlessly drawled out curses into the wrinkled sheets and he muttered jokingly about something about you being so foul-mouthed but who the hell cares? A smile grew on your face until you saw white stars, searingly coming undone once more around his shaft. You could feel his tip press against your cervix, your figure stiffening and jerking against him with every quick spasm. His heavy body leaned over against your back, mouth enveloping the crook of your neck and biting down as he came with you, hot spurts of cum filling up your womb even more.

Unlike the other three times you came this evening, this orgasm ripped through your body. You might as well have blacked out from the blinding ecstasy.

You could barely feel yourself be turned back around, eyes tiredly flickering over and looking at his face. You stared at him absently, mind slowly going back in time. There were times throughout your life from when you've known Reiner that you've thought that he was irrevocably handsome. Yes, you've once and had begun to always considered him as family as a soldier, but you couldn't fault yourself for looking at your friend — husband — as more than something from time to time when the two of you were younger.

He's always been there for you, had seen you at your worst moments and yet, yet... he was the one that stayed. When you've made numerous attempts at his life, when you've nearly died from a Titan and blood loss, when the two of you would get in trouble with the superiors in Paradis; over and over, Reiner would be there. No matter what, he's the constant in your life, be it by choice or not.

He was kissing down your neck, nipping at your skin, and leaving purple marks with every light kiss. His calloused hand brushed against one of your tits, palming and squeezing at the flesh before he dove in and began sucking at the hardened bud. Your breath hitched as you watched and felt him roll his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other one with his free hand.

Sucking your breasts seemed to leave him entranced, a heavy sigh leaving him as he started to grind himself against the area underneath you. In the weirdest way possible, it was almost memorizing watching him, softly moaning when he switched over to the other breast. This whole experience was making you crazy, maybe as insane as he is.

Reiner muttered something against your chest about milk coming in and how good the taste would be, quietly assessing your expression afterwards. There was a hint of indifference within your eyes but you couldn't muster up any more words to snap back to him, complete exhaustion weighing heavy on your slackened limbs. You could say the same about him, it seemed that he was barely running on anything as well but that damned determination in his eyes said otherwise.

You knew his goal. You knew that this wasn't the last time the two of you were going to do this until he reached it. Maybe even then, he wouldn't even stop there either. That's just who Reiner is, the stubborn man.

He reached over to brush the strands out of your sweaty face, the burning warmth of your cheeks connecting against his palms.

"I love you."

You didn't even realize that he had pulled out from before, but regardless of that, he still positioned himself above you to push his dick back in your dripping sore cunt again. His thighs had rested on top of yours and he began to push your legs back towards your chest, holding you open by his muscled arms. Though he towered over you, he positioned himself to face you, his hazel eyes lovingly staring down into yours.

"Say it back." He let out a quiet whimper as he pushed his sensitive cock back into you, your brain melting at the overstuffed feeling that it gave you once more. "Please."

The gentleness of the way he said it, even within your dazed mind, had your heart pounding.

"I love you." He stated again as he began to rut his thick cock into your used core. You could only breathlessly moan in response, feeling him even deeper than before. You've never realized how much burningly warm Reiner was when he's this close on top of you, his body almost swallowing yours. You watched as his face contorted in complete focus as he methodically rutted into you, his hefty balls slapping against your ass with every given thrust.

This was different, not like the other times in this long night. It was tender, cautious. It was as if he was afraid of breaking you, as if you were suddenly the most fragile thing in the world. For some unknown reason, this realization made your stomach flutter like nothing else before. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to your face.

The two of you stared at each other quietly, lips parted and steadily heaving. Without the fuel of your hatred, all you could think of was how lovely he looked like this, as if he belonged in this position above you.

You moved and pushed yourself upwards, willingly kissing him for the first time in years. You lost yourself to the feeling of his lips on yours, all the while as his cock continued to spear your hole. Unlike him for most of the night, he stiffened and stilled, hesitantly kissing you back in return. The confirmation that he desperately sought for years, this was more than enough for him. His thrusts picked back up and became more steadier in pace, taking his time in pleasing the two of you.

He pulled away from your swollen lips for air, his breath shuddering as your aching walls quivered around him. Your hands cupped his face, quietly begging him to give you one more orgasm. One more but you’re so spent and sensitive, unsure if you had another one in you. You had to, for him.

"C-cumming, 'm cum—!"

You wordlessly cried out from another body-wracking orgasm, legs wrapping around his waist tightly and pulling him in even deeper than humanly possible. Your body became so pliable underneath him and without skipping a beat, he began to slam himself harder into you, the squelch of his cock jutting into you becoming louder by the second. To impregnate you with his child, that would be his final parting gift to you when he gives up his Titan. He had to reach his goal, hell, he might've already from the first time he got into your pussy.

There was always a however. Even then when he unfortunately leaves you alone with his kid, what Reiner wanted the most in the entire world was to hear you say that you loved him. Not in the fake way that you did for the past three years, but as your true self. The one that he had completely exposed tonight and the one he fell in love with ever since that fateful sparring day.

"Please Y/N, say it back." He panted and you tiredly shook your head, biting at your bottom lip. "I need you to say it out loud."

"I... I-I can't. Reiner, I just ca— HMPH!" He quickly silenced you with another kiss, rejecting the notion.

Why? Why? Why? Why can't you? It didn't make sense nor did it settle well in his stomach. Of course there were things that you could never forgive him for, he was dangerously flawed for the most part but somehow, in some way, he wanted you to see him as redeeming. If you can't, then how can he live with the burden of everything he's done?

Reiner suddenly removed his lips from yours again, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed tightly shut as he worked towards his final orgasm. His movements were becoming more erratic until his lower half stilled and once more, you could feel his hot cum spill into your womb, occasionally rutting to push the liquid impossibly deeper. His grunts were broken and airy, as if he had been finally emptied of everything in him.

The two of you were quiet despite the heavy breathing that was unevenly shared. A few minutes later, he slowly started to slide his softened cock out of your achingly raw pussy.

You laid there, used and tired. Reiner didn't move from on top of you and you almost knocked out before small, warm splatters made contact against your chest. You reopened your eyes to see him crying over your body, his lip quivering and his body shaking.

"Why are you...?" You began with a hoarse voice, attempting to sit up.

"Five years."

"What?"

"I have five years left," For some reason, your blood ran cold and your heart sank down to your stomach. "It's a Titan inheritor thing. Whoever receives any of the Nine Titans has thirteen years to live."

Reiner looked at you, trying to wipe away his tears with a short laugh. "I know you won't forgive me, I wouldn't either. I'm just another devil that couldn't keep his hands or eyes to himself, and I'm a shameless traitor for bringing you here but Y/N..."

His hand reached over and caressed your cheek slowly, just like he did when he brought you over to Marley. "I really do love you. No matter what, my very heart and soul belongs to you. Do what you want to me but nothing — nothing — about how I feel towards you will ever change."

Tears of your own started to trail down your cheeks, your head shaking slowly. Why were you crying? Isn't that what you wanted? It's strange, feeling this new moderation towards him. No matter how much you pushed him away or attempted to kill him, he took the pain. Was it because he knew how little time he had left? Yet on the same side of the coin, was he lying in order for you to feel bad about his situation?

You don't know. For the first time, you've never felt so unsure of yourself. It should be final, you should've only felt complete hate for this man but...

"Say something, anything." Reiner put his hands on your shoulders, his grip tightening as he shakily spoke.

"Hit me, choke me, spit at me. I'm a selfish monster, I ruined everything for you."

Fear. You've seen such an expression on his face before, when you knocked him out with the pills and when he almost lost you to that Titan. Yet something about this face of his made you feel indifferent, guilty even. You realize now that it wasn't a suitable look for him.

"Yeah, you did ruin everything." You quietly replied, completely sitting yourself up and moving towards him cautiously.

"My home, my family, my dreams of becoming a proud soldier in the Survey Corps. All of those things, you took them away from me." Taking his head into your hands, you started to wipe the tears away from his face. He looked stunned as you began to slowly climb on top of him, your dripping pussy rubbing steadily against his partially-hard cock, belly half swollen with his cum.

"Maybe I still hate you for that Reiner and I'll spit on your grave when it comes to it, but there's one thing I can't deny." You airily giggled as you lined yourself up once his cock hardened.

"I love the way you fuck me."

His knuckles turned white as you lowered yourself down, completely sheathing him inside you. His face softened in pleasure as you began to ride him; ah yes, this is what you liked to see. Your legs were shaking like no other but the pleased smile you had on your face was unwavering.

"If you make me cum enough times, I might just say that I love you too."

Reiner's hands immediately latched onto your bruised hips, a similar grin growing on his face. He's got you right where he wanted you. You may think you had always had the upper hand till now, but he's not stupid. Getting you addicted to the feeling of his cock was the first step, next was you getting comfortable with the idea of having his kids. Well, you could already be halfway there from the way you were slamming your hips down into his.

He buried his face into your neck, his canines dragging against the marked skin as you bounced yourself on his length. Though what he said about his short lifespan was true, he'll spend it fucking you stupid, until you can really mean your 'I love you's'.

The devil he couldn't resist from the land of hell. You were his and he was yours.

Forever and more, till the end of time.

[mayhem24-7forever]

Cowgirl Lessons

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) x F!Reader Oneshot

Summary: When she decides to spend her spring break from grad school in Wabang Wyoming, Y/N finds herself getting a little extracurricular education from a dashing cowboy named Rhett Abbott... with important courses like two stepping, cowboy hat law, bull riding, and lassoing/rope work.

Author’s Notes: Firstly, I don’t want minors reading any of my fics, even if they are SFW so this one is especially off limits! I deserve a safe place to express myself so please respect my boundaries. this is super long (like over 15k lmao) but it’s my birthday so #treatyoself. this came out of a conversation with @hyperfixatingmenever and @a-reader-and-a-writer on the top gun discord… so this is dedicated to the server. Big thanks to everyone who helped me out with this including @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez​. fic divider by the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer 💕

Content Warnings: bull riding (poor bulls tbh at least this is fake), mentions of injuries from bull riding, people referring to rhett as the town slut/manwhore (because he is and I love him for it), reader is referred to as a “city girl” so i’m very sorry to anyone from the country, small children being embarrassing menaces, overprotective brothers, profanity, drunk guy cat-calling once, drinking, dancing (two-stepping), flirting (like SO much flirting), making out, distracted driving (DO NOT FUCK OR FINGER WHILE DRIVING IN REAL LIFE ITS UNSAFE), fingering, teasing, one (1 singular) spank, dry humping/riding, unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it before you tap it in real life guys even if clean/on the pill), rope bondage, consensual somnophilia (waking up to being eaten out after giving permission the previous night), oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, having trouble walking after getting railed

The tiny town of Wabang, Wyoming was not where Y/N had thought she’d ever willingly choose to take a vacation, especially if she had other more exciting options. Nevertheless, it was where she found herself on her spring break from grad school, having decided to accept her brother’s invitation to spend two weeks there. At first, she had been excited, she hadn’t seen her brother much since he got married to a farm girl and moved to Wyoming to start a family, only getting to see him once or twice a year when he came over for the holidays. She was also excited to finally see his ranch, never having been able to visit before. Of course, she was a little disappointed as she got texts and saw social media posts from the rest of her cohort, practically everyone she knew seemed to have escaped to Miami, L.A., Cabo, or somewhere else warm, tropical and gorgeous. It wasn’t that Wyoming wasn’t beautiful–it most certainly was. From the peaks of the picturesque mountains to the wide open plains straight out of a postcard, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been. But for as amazing as Wyoming was, she couldn’t help but think that she may have made a mistake.

At that very moment, her roommates were likely on a beach, surrounded by shirtless ripped frat bros and gorgeous women in skimpy bikinis, pounding back shots of tequila while grinding on some jacked hotties to a Ke$ha song. All while she was sitting in the uncomfortable metal stands of the Amelia County rodeo ring playing babysitter for her brother’s kids as they watched a bunch of grown men in cowboy hats ride large cows and fall on their asses in the dirt a bunch. While her friends were getting drunk, having sex, and partying, she was swatting flies away from her eight year old niece’s corndog and trying to keep her five year old nephew from dripping his ice cream all over himself and everyone else within a ten foot radius.

“Auntie Y/N?” her niece, Sarah, asked and she turned to look at her.

“Yes, lovebug?” she replied.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Sarah said.

“Okay, lovebug.” she told her before turning to her nephew. “Come on, Jesse.”

She had never herded cattle before, but if she had to guess, it was probably much like trying to keep two small children focused on the simple task of walking to a bathroom. As they walked down the stairs of the stand, Jesse decided he wanted to run to the top so he could ‘see the bulls in the pens from up high’. After getting him down to the bottom, she realized that Sarah was jumping up and down to try and see over the fence, not believing Y/N when she said that the ring was empty because they were between rides and pouting when her aunt pulled her away.

As they made their way through the crowd towards the porta potties, she tried to no avail to get either of them to hold her hand, meaning she was much more focused on keeping her eyes on them than to the crowd around her. The crowd was thinning a little and the kids were still surging ahead without her, although luckily she could see them heading for the porta potty doors.

“Sarah! Jesse! Come back here!” she called out, too busy watching them to watch her step as she smacked right into a broad shouldered frame.

She was falling backwards for a moment before a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and caught her before she hit the dirt. She was pulled up to her feet and steadied by the hands as she looked up at the person who had caught her. He was tall and quite handsome with the most striking blue eyes she had ever seen, his ear-length brown hair pushed back below his cowboy hat.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice low with just the hint of a country accent.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing how close she was to him with her hands on his chest as he still held her waist and she stepped back, embarrassed. “Thank you for catching me.”

“It’s quite alright, Miss. I hope I didn’t get any dirt on your pretty dress.” he replied, dusting off his gloves as she looked past him, relieved to see both kids opening the porta potty doors and stepping inside and he turned to follow her gaze. “Sarah and Jesse giving you trouble?”

“Yes, I-” she began and paused, confused. “How did you know?”

“Sarah is good friends with my niece, Amy, and they live near our ranch so I drive them all home from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” he explained before pulling off his glove and holding out his hand. “I’m Rhett Abbott.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she replied as she shook it, trying to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran through her body when she felt his strong grip.

He smiled at her name and she knew that the grin of that handsome devil could be the death of her. The crowd had thinned out but she still walked closer to the bathrooms so she wouldn’t miss when the kids came out, Rhett trailing behind her. She finally noticed that he was wearing chaps over his jeans and one of the protective vests the riders had to wear over his blue plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his well-defined arms.

“Are you a bull rider? I haven’t been able to pay much attention to the rodeo while trying to watch those two.” she asked.

“Yeah, I imagine those two are keeping you busy.” he said with a smirk. “And yes, I’m riding tonight.”

“I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure how bull riding works. I tried asking the kids but Jesse just said ‘you have to ride the bull the best’ and I have no idea what that means.” she said with a laugh and he chuckled.

“Well, there’s all kinds of rules about only using one hand and not touching the bull and tryin’ to earn the most points and the like but the most important thing is to try and last the full eight seconds without falling off.” he explained and she nodded.

“And do you often last the full eight seconds?” she asked, not entirely talking about bull riding any more.

“Oh, I always last far longer than eight seconds…” he replied with a smirk and she knew they definitely weren’t talking about bull riding anymore. “I was wondering if-”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Jesse yelled as he ran out of the bathrooms and towards her, interrupting Rhett, who looked a little disappointed.

“WASH YOUR HANDS!” she ordered, pointing at the portable sink and shaking her head as he turned around to do as she asked, running back to her when he was done.

“Auntie Y/N, can I have another ice cream?” he asked, tugging on her dress before turning to the man talking to her. “Oh, hiya Mr. Rhett.”

“Jesse, I’ve told you about a hundred times that you can just call me Rhett.” he said, clearly amused by the young boy’s formality.

“Ma told me I have to say Mister and Miss for any adults who ain’t family.” Jesse said firmly before turning back to his aunt and tugging on her dress again, looking up at her with wide, puppy dog eyes. “Can I have another ice cream pleeeease?”

“One is enough for tonight little munchkin, but it was a good try.” she told him and he giggled.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you-” Rhett started but was interrupted once more.

“ABBOTT! YOU GOT FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOUR RIDE! GET ON IT!” a man called out from near the fence at the back of the bull pens.

“ONE MINUTE!” Rhett called back, obviously annoyed at another interruption, before turning back to her. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? There’s a bar called the Handsome Gambler over on main street that I usually go to after a ride.”

He was smiling confidently but she could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes that made her feel special. Here was a man who regularly rode thousand pound cows angrily trying to buck him off but he was anxious that she might say no to a drink with him. She smiled.

“I have to get the kids home but if I’m not too tired after that, I think a drink might be nice.” she said coyly and he grinned. “But fair warning, I’m not a beer and whiskey type girl, more of a fruity cocktail kinda girl.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a pretty city girl.” he replied and she smiled.

“RHETT!” the man called again and Rhett sighed.

“Go on cowboy, you’ve got a bull to ride.” she said, patting his chest before giving him a playful push towards the arena with a wink. “We can talk more at the bar.”

“Looking forward to it.” he said with a smirk before tipping his hat and walking towards the ring.

“Good luck!” she called after him.

“Good luck Mr. Rhett!” Jesse added, waving.

She watched him disappear into the back area of the ring, off limits to the audience and once he was gone, she turned to see Sarah washing her hands.

“Come on, lovebug! We’ve got some bull riding to watch!” Y/N called to her niece who smiled as she ran over to her. “Now, this time, you’re both gonna hold my hands until we get to the stands or you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

Miraculously, they made it back to their seats without either of the kids running off. She was smoothing out her dress skirt when Jesse suddenly started crawling onto her lap.

“What are you doing, you little munchkin?” she asked, amused.

“The seats are so uncomfortable, Auntie Y/N!” he explained with a pout. “Ma and pa always let me sit on their laps.”

“Alright, come here.” she told him and he smiled widely as she took him into her arms and sat him on her lap.

“Time for our last ride of the night, folks!” the announcer said through the crackly old speakers. “And it should be a good one! We have our hometown hero Rhett Abbott, winner of the Wyoming Rodeo competition last year, placed fifth in the semi-nationals, and tonight he’ll be riding the ever ornery bull ‘Napalm’. Napalm has quite the reputation for ending winning streaks and knocking riders out of the competition, and often, into the hospital. If Rhett can last eight seconds on Napalm, he’ll be practically guaranteed to move forwards to the state competition once again this year.”

At the mention of a hospital, Y/N sat up nervously, eyes glued to the back gate where she could see Rhett climbing in a pen, the bull he was mounting bucked wildly even in such a small space. Aside from plenty of nasty looking bruises, the worst injury they had seen that night was a man who broke his leg when he was thrown from the bull but he had been smiling and had his thumbs up as the on-site paramedics had carried him out of the ring.

This bull seemed more determined than any before to throw his rider, looking so angry that he probably wouldn’t want to stop until Rhett was below his hooves. From afar she could see the handlers struggling to keep Rhett upright as Napalm threw itself around the small pen wildly. She put her hand over her mouth and began chewing on her fingernails, a habit she only did before large exams and important presentations at school. Suddenly, she felt a little hand on her arm, pulling her hand down and she turned to see Sarah beside her, looking up at her with a caring expression.

“Don’t bite your fingernails Auntie Y/N, ma says it’s real bad.” she cautioned and Y/N managed a smile as she put her hand in Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze.

“Thank you, lovebug.” Y/N said before leaning over to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead. “Just a little worried about Rhett, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Rhett is real good at riding bulls, pa always bets on him.” Sarah replied with a big smile at trying to be helpful.

Before Y/N could respond, a loud and low air horn sounded and the gate was thrown open. The crowd rose to their feet, blocking her view as they cheered wildly. Quickly, she shot up, holding Jesse close to her as she looked over the cowboy hats of the men in front of her, Sarah climbing to stand on her seat so she could see too. When she had seen the first bull ride of the night, she thought it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, questioning why anyone in their right mind would do it as rider after rider was thrown from the bucking bulls and into the dirt. But this one made all the rest look like child’s play, the bull bucking higher and faster and harder as it spun, desperate to knock Rhett off.

Everything was happening so fast that it was almost a blur, even though it felt like a lifetime as she watched him struggle to stay on. At some point his hat had flown off and into the dirt and the bull had almost trampled on it. A cloud of dust was kicked up by Napalm’s hooves, making it a little harder to see but still the crowd cheered as Rhett stayed on. Suddenly, a buzzer rang out, signaling the end of the eight seconds. She wasn’t sure if he had jumped or been thrown but in a flash Rhett was on the ground, some handlers helping him up and away from the angry animal as others roped the bull and returned it to its pen.

When Rhett stood up fully, looking relatively unharmed as a handler handed him his hat, she breathed out a sigh of relief, one she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. As he put his hat on his head, he spun around to look at the scoreboard which changed to show him in first place, miles above the other riders in points. The crowd went wild, so loud and passionate that Y/N was certain there were Super Bowls and arena concerts with less excited crowds.

Sarah jumped up and down on her seat, her arms raised as she screamed happily, Jesse pulling himself off of his aunt’s shoulder to holler as well. She shifted her nephew so that she could clap and cheer, smiling down at Rhett’s figure in the ring. He was reveling in his victory but she could see that he seemed to be searching the crowd for something–or someone, she realized when his eyes met hers. His smile spread into a grin and she smiled back as she clapped and cheered. A handler walked up to Rhett and drew him–rather reluctantly–away from the crowd, sparing one last glance over his shoulder as he was led through the back gates out of the ring.

“Another fantastic ride for Rhett that has secured his place in the state competition!” the announcer said as the crowd continued to cheer. “Thank y'all for coming out to tonight’s rodeo, have a safe night!”

With that, the crowd began to file out of the stands and out into the gravel and dirt parking lot as she took a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart rate, so relieved that not only was Rhett okay but that he had seemingly won too. Jesse was beginning to nod off as he came down from his sugar high so she shifted him onto her hip as she led Sarah by the hand, who was rambling about how great of a ride that was and how she knew Mr. Rhett could do it. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that her niece was harboring a bit of a school girl crush on him, which she found rather amusing.

They stood by the parking lot and played I Spy until her brother’s dirty red pick-up truck pulled up in front of them. Jenna, her sister-in-law, hopped out of the passenger seat to hug her babies, who were definitely very glad to see her. Y/N sat in the passenger seat as Jenna sat in the back between her children’s car seats. As her brother Sam pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, he looked in the rearview mirror at his family.

“Did you have a good time with Auntie Y/N?” he asked and the kids nodded before he turned to his sister. “Did they behave themselves?”

“Yes, they did.” she answered. “How was your date night?”

“Absolutely perfect.” Jenna said happily. “Thank you so much for watching them, we haven’t had a real proper date night in a few years.”

“Of course, it was fun.” Y/N replied, smiling at her sister-in-law.

“How was your first rodeo, sis?” Sam asked.

“Definitely… interesting.” she answered and he chuckled.

“Yeah, it took some getting used to when I first moved out here, Jenna used to say that I looked more scared than the actual riders.” he said and the kids laughed. “Who had the best score of the night?”

“Mr. Rhett!” Sarah piped up. “Mr. Ricky in the speakers said he gets to go to the state competition. He rode the whole eight seconds and he got way more points than everybody else!”

“Well I’ll be damned, looks like I just made twenty bucks off Carl at the seed store.” her brother said with a smile.

“Mr. Rhett and Auntie Y/N are going on a date!” Jesse exclaimed suddenly and Sam struggled not to swerve the car on the road before looking to his sister in disbelief as his son continued. “I heard him ask her to go to the place on main street where mommy says kids aren’t allowed.”

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked and she looked down in embarrassment at being ratted out by her nephew.

“I was going to ask if you could drop me off at the Handsome Gambler instead of my hotel.” she said quietly, referring to the little motel room her brother had put her up in because he was still working on building the new addition to the house for a spare room.

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked again incredulously and Jenna leaned forward to slap Sam’s shoulder and look at her sister-in-law.

“Rhett’s a nice man, you’ll have fun.” Jenna said before lowering her voice and giving a wink. “And he’s real good-looking too, you chose well.”

“No, no, no!” Sam exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “My little sister is not going out with Rhett Abbott the…” he trailed off as he glanced into the rearview mirror to see the kids listening in and quietly added “...the M-A-N-W-H-O-R-E of Wabang!”

“Daddy, what does that spell?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll tell you later, sweetie.” he replied before looking at his wife. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging this.”

“Oh, stop it Sam!” Jenna said as she rolled her eyes. “She’s an adult who can make her own choices! Besides, she deserves to have a little fun on her spring break without her big brother ruining it.”

“Fine. But if he hurts you Y/N, I swear I’ll beat his…” he trailed off again as he noticed the kids were watching. “...butt.”

The kids started giggling, thinking that their father saying ‘butt’ was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“So, will you drop me off at the bar?” she asked her brother and he sighed before nodding reluctantly.

“Auntie Y/N and Mr. Rhett! Sittin’ in a tree!” Jesse began to sing and Jenna tried not to laugh. “K-I-S-S… I don’t know the rest.”

“It’s ‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage!’” Sarah exclaimed helpfully.

“If Mr. Rhett marries Auntie Y/N, do we call him just Rhett ‘cuz he’s family or do we still call him Mr. Rhett?” Jesse asked his mother.

“He’d be Uncle Rhett then.” Sarah corrected, a proud smile on her face.

Y/N felt like she was going to die from embarrassment and stared out the window to avoid looking at anyone as her sister-in-law hushed the children. She couldn’t stop thinking about her brother’s words. Was Rhett really the town slut? He flirted with her so easily that it was obvious he wasn’t new to picking up girls and he was certainly handsome enough to leave a long trail of broken hearts behind him. Rhett was probably just a player looking to get his dick wet but wasn’t that what she was hoping to do too? She supposed that she could keep her heart out of it for her pussy’s sake and have a fun little spring break fling.

Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the bar on main street and she hopped out, turning back to lean through the open window to speak to her brother.

“Thank you for the ride, Sammy, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” she said but before she could turn around to head into the bar, he reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

“Hey.” he said lowly, not wanting the kids to hear him. “I’m serious, call me if you need a ride or help or anything, alright? I don’t care if it’s at three a.m. or something, just call me.”

“I will, Sammy, thank you.” she assured her big brother, placing her hand over his to squeeze reassuringly before turning to walk towards the door.

“Have fun girlie! But not too much fun, it might be a bit too soon for you to become a momma!” Jenna called out and Y/N laughed as she grabbed the door handle.

The Handsome Gambler was just how she would expect a bar in a small midwestern town to be. It was dim and smokey, with neon signs on the walls casting colored light onto the packed tables of men in cowboy hats and women in cowgirl boots. When she entered, a man in a trucker hat wolf-whistled at her and she had the sudden urge to turn around and leave.

“Shut up Hendricks or I’ll make you eat your teeth!” Rhett’s voice warned and she looked to where the voice had come from.

She locked eyes with Rhett, who was sitting at the bar, hat on the counter and he smiled at her, giving her the courage to continue walking. If she had thought he was handsome in his bull rider get-up, she was blown away with how he made the most casual outfit sexy. Blue jeans (with an unfortunately large belt buckle), a gray henley and a blue flannel button-up should not have been making her squirm but the way he had the sleeves rolled up to display his muscular forearms somehow made her want to climb him right there in the bar.

This feeling was only intensified when she realized that he was wearing a different blue flannel than he had earlier, meaning he had changed specifically for her. A small voice in the back of her head tried to reason that it was likely just because his clothes had been dirty and sweaty from the ring but she chose to ignore it and allow herself to be flattered he was making an effort for her. He stood as she approached, his eyes briefly skimming over her body to admire her dress before returning to her face.

“Apologies for Mr. Hendricks, he’s an annoying asshole who can’t remember his manners when he drinks but he really is harmless. In about ten minutes he’ll be passed out in his usual corner.” Rhett assured her and she laughed.

“I can handle some cat-calls, it’s when they try to get handsy that I bring out my pepper spray.” she said, partially as a joke but Rhett just pursed his lips.

“Well I can assure you no one around here is going to be bothering you. If your brother isn’t enough to deter them, I’ll make sure they get the memo.” he said earnestly and she smiled.

He pulled back her stool and helped her up, surprising her with his chivalry, so unlike the usual skirt-chasers she ran into at the university. Usually men could barely be bothered to text back and yet here was Rhett, treating her like she was royalty. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come but I sure am glad you did.” He said as he sat back down beside her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you remember what I told you earlier.” she said coyly, testing how much he had actually paid attention to her at the rodeo.

“Kenny, I’ll have a beer.” Rhett said to the man behind the bar with a slight smirk as he added “...and can you make something like a fruit cocktail? I don’t believe the lady likes her alcohol to taste like alcohol.”

“You remembered.” she said with a laugh as Kenny went to get the drinks.

“You sound surprised. Do city boys not listen well?” he asked.

“Not too many of them.” she replied.

“Damn shame, I could listen to your cute little accent all day long.” he said and she blushed at the compliment.

“Some might argue that you have the accent.” she shot back.

“Not when you’re in my territory, sweetheart.” he said with that dazzling smile that she thought could charm the pants off a nun.

“I suppose you’re right.” she said before Kenny returned with a beer bottle and what she believed was an attempt at a cocktail, setting down in front of her a glass of pinkish red liquid and ice with a cherry on a toothpick hanging off the side. “Thank you.”

“That may be the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen Kenny make.” Rhett said when he left them to talk to a customer further down the bar. “How’s it taste?”

She took a sip and laughed, causing Rhett to ask her what was so funny.

“I’m fairly certain that this is just tequila mixed with fruit punch.” she answered.

“Really?” Rhett asked, amused and she slid the drink closer to him so he could have a sip. “Oh, that is definitely just tequila mixed with fruit punch.”

“I will say, I actually quite like it.” she said, pulling it closer to her again before popping the cherry into her mouth and taking another drink.

“So, how was your first rodeo?” Rhett asked before taking a swig of his beer. “Everything you thought it would be?”

“It was…” she trailed off, unsure how to summarize it all. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been as stressed as I was watching you ride since I presented my thesis idea last year.”

“You were worried about me?” Rhett asked and although his smirk was cocky, she could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability, like he was genuinely surprised that she actually cared about if he had gotten hurt.

“Yes, I was. That bull was like nothing I’d seen all night and the way the announcer talked about it had me squeezing Sarah’s hand probably a bit too hard.” she replied. “But I guess I had no reason to be worried because you made it look almost easy.”

“Well, I am real good at what I do.” he assured her earnestly before smirking and suggestively adding “I’m real good at everything I do.”

“Easy there, cowboy!” she said with a laugh, feeling more comfortable with him after five minutes than she felt with most people she had known for years. He was just so easy to talk to, being effortlessly vulnerable yet continually making her laugh like he was starved for the sound a way a man is starved for water in a desert.

“Just trying to keep you on your toes, girl.” he said with a wink.

“So what do you do when you’re not riding bulls or winking at girls in bars?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I work on my family’s ranch and sometimes if I have time, I hire myself out as a farmhand to other local ranchers when they need it.” he answered. “But the rodeo circuits are my main job.”

“You enjoy being thrown off thousand pound cows into the dirt?” she asked. “Do you just really like pain, is that it?”

“You and your damn wit, girl…” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Nobody would ever even know you’re related to quiet old Sam with a wicked tongue like that. But yes, I do enjoy it. Maybe not the pain so much but there’s just something about how exhilarating it feels during those eight seconds. So freeing.”

“Sounds terrifying, I think I’ll stick to bike riding. Or maybe horse riding if I can stop almost falling off the damn thing.” she joked.

“Not having much luck with horses then?” Rhett asked, amused.

“I swear, if Sam wasn’t holding the saddle and walking beside me, I would have fallen off the horse more this week than every rider from tonight put together.” she answered. “I’m trying my best but I don’t think I’m very good at all this cowgirl stuff.”

“Maybe you just need a good teacher.” Rhett said.

“I’m supposed to be on spring break from school.” she replied with a laugh. “I’m supposed to be relaxing and having fun, not learning.”

“Who says you can’t do both?” Rhett purred, his low voice and southern drawl sending a wave of heat straight down to her core. “I mean, you just might need some practice straddling and riding something else.”

“I suppose you have something in particular in mind for your course curriculum?” she asked, leaning in to match his low whisper.

“Maybe one or two things.” he answered with that cocky smirk she couldn’t help but love.

“Then maybe we can start class later tonight…” she said so quietly he could only hear it because she was inches from his face before she pulled backwards into her original sitting position as he groaned and added at normal volume “but I don’t go home with just any old cowboy so let’s hope this date goes well.”

“How am I doing so far?” he asked and she smiled as she sipped her cocktail, ignoring the bulge in his pants that had grown as she had gotten closer.

“Ask me again after another drink or two.” she replied and he nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” he said, eyeing her half drunk drink.

They talked for a long while about their lives, their families, their childhoods. They talked about their favorite music and their hobbies and everything in between they could think of. They were getting to know one another, really hitting it off as the rest of the bar seemed to disappear. As they talked, she had to remind herself not to get lost in his beautiful blue eyes or get distracted by his rugged beauty, so handsome he was like a movie star straight out of one of the old western films her grandfather used to watch. When they had talked so long that her cocktail and his beer bottle were empty, Rhett flagged down the bartender to order another round.

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand.” he said as Kenny placed their second drinks in front of them, nodding a thanks. “Why come out to Wabang, Wyoming for spring break? Don’t college kids usually go to the beach or somethin’ like that?”

“They do. In fact, that’s where most of my friends are right now.” she replied. “But ever since Sam met Jenna and they moved out here, we really only see them when they come over for Christmas and Thanksgiving and stuff. I’d never seen the town that my brother fell in love with almost as much as he fell for Jenna or the little ranch that he’s always talking about on the phone. I wanted to see them all for a little longer than just a few days out of the year. So, two weeks in Wabang sounded pretty nice for a break.”

“And now?” Rhett asked. “Are you disappointed that you’re not on a beach with your friends?”

“Not really… I mean of course I’m a little jealous of all the pictures they’re sending me but Wyoming is really growing on me.” she said earnestly. “And besides, it has some things I couldn’t get on a beach.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asked.

“Well there’s one cowboy in particular who’s really caught my eye.” Rhett quirked an eyebrow in amused interest as she continued. “He told me he’d teach me how to be a cowgirl—an offer I’m still considering by the way… oh, and there’s this fantastic cocktail that you just can’t get anywhere but the Handsome Gambler.”

“And how is that tequila and fruit punch treating you?” Rhett asked and she laughed.

“I’ll be honest, it’s better than most of the ‘fancy’ overpriced drinks I’ve ever had at nightclubs with my friends.” she answered.

“I hope you were getting others to buy those for you. Pretty girls should never have to pay for their own drinks.” Rhett said.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” she asked teasingly with a smile.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he said earnestly, without a single hint of irony and she was taken aback by his candor.

She was so used to men giving cheesy pick up lines and half-baked compliments just so they could get into her pants, that she was thrown off kilter by the realization that Rhett was serious. Evidently, he saw the surprise in her face because he leaned forwards, his blue eyes staring deep into her own.

“I mean every single word. I don’t want you to think that I’m just running my mouth to get you in bed.” he said and she froze under his gaze, struck by just how wrong she had been when she had assumed Rhett was just another player who would say anything to try and get his dick wet. “I mean of course I’d still love to have you in my bed but I really do like you.” She laughed a little at his cheeky addition but was still stunned speechless by his words.

“Rhett, I-” was all she managed to stutter out before blushing and looking down at the bartop in embarrassment. “I really like you too.”

He put his hand under her chin and pushed it upwards to bring her to look at him, his blue eyes holding her gaze intensely.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked with a smile.

“Dance?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, dancing. They have that in the big cities right?” he joked and she laughed, looking over at the couples on the dance floor doing some kind of slow dance.

“We do have dancing in the city, just maybe not that kind of dancing.” she said, turning back to him. “It’s more like grinding… you have to be pretty drunk to do it.”

“Well, how about I teach you how to two step and you teach me how to grind?” he replied, flashing that mischievous grin again. “It can be your first cowgirl lesson.”

“I will dance with you but I will not be grinding, I’m far too sober for that.” she answered. “So are you gonna teach me how to square dance? Err, line dance? What is it called?”

“I’ll teach you to two step, I think line dancing may be a bit advanced for a first timer.” Rhett said, standing up, putting his hat on, and holding out his hand.

She took it, memorizing every line and callus of his strong hand against her soft skin, and he helped her down from the stool before leading her over to the area that was serving as a dance floor. They got into a typical slow dancing position, her hand on his shoulder and his hand resting on her waist while their remaining hands joined together. He taught her a simple move called a “two step” and then they were off, waltzing around the dance floor as she tried to remain on beat.

He would occasionally give her a pointer or correction but for the most part he praised her for getting a hang of it fairly quickly. They kept up that simple routine for an entire song and by the time the final notes of “Head Over Boots” played, she no longer had to focus on counting and her steps, instead able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hand on her lower back keeping her pressed up against him.

“Alright darlin’, this next one is a little bit faster.” he warned her with a smile as the next song began to play. “You up for the challenge?”

“Bring it on, cowboy!” she replied and he smirked.

“Alright, I warned you.” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye that made her weak at the knees, distracting her so that when he spun her out and around before reeling her back in, she was caught completely off guard.

She laughed, trying (and failing) to avoid stepping on his boots as she adjusted to the new pace and the added spins but after another song or two, she had acclimated to the dancing quite well. As “Why Don’t We Just Dance” ended, they were both breathing hard through wide grins, her heaving chest pressed against his, grateful to discover the next song was a slow song. They switched from two stepping to simply swaying, catching their breath as some melodic crooning about “Tennessee Whiskey” relaxed them against one another.

“Has anyone ever told you that your hat is sexy?” she asked once their heart rates had returned to normal and their breathing evened out, looking up at him.

“Once or twice.” Rhett replied with a smirk.

“Well, in that case…” she said before reaching up to grab his hat, pulling it off his head and placing it on her own. “How do I look? Sexy?”

“I- err… yes, you do look sexy.” he said, a look on his face somewhere between surprise and nervousness.

“You look like I just took a baseball bat to your truck headlights or something. What is it? Do you not like people touching your hat?” she asked, starting to get a little nervous that she had somehow fucked up in her lame attempt at flirting.

“No… it’s just, uh, around here a girl putting on a guy’s hat means… something special.” Rhett answered.

“Something special?” she asked.

“It’s like a… well, an unofficial rule that if a lady takes a fella’s hat and puts it on herself, then she… she’s supposed to go home with him at the end of the night.” replied, his usual cocky demeanor missing as he seemed nervous to tell her.

“Oh…” she said, understanding the full meaning of what she’d just done.

“But you didn’t know and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so I’ll just take it back.” He said, taking his hat off of her head and placing it firmly on his own, reaching his hand back out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s a stupid tradition anyways. Just backcountry nonsense, really.”

She could tell that he seemed nervous, like she’d suddenly just slap him and storm off for daring to suggest that she had to sleep with him. She stared deep into his eyes, touched by the adoration and concern in them, genuinely caring if he had upset her. She took a breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do before launching up onto her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his.

He seemed caught off guard for a moment before smiling against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around her waist to hold her closer. The kiss was so good that she almost forgot why she had initiated it in the first place, reaching up to snatch his hat off of his head, pulling back in his arms to place it firmly on her head with a wink.

“Oh no… It looks like I just have to go home with you tonight.” she purred coyly, giving him a smirk before leaning in and adding lowly “Or I guess you could come home with me since my hotel room is probably closer than your house and I just can’t wait to get my mouth on your cock.”

Rhett looked absolutely stunned, completely in awe of the gorgeous minx in his arms.

“God damn, woman…” was all he could manage to say, tipping the brim of his hat on her head up with a finger so he could hungrily kiss her again, one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck.

He kissed her like a man possessed until her chest was heaving against his, breathless from his affection when he pulled back and smirked at the dazed look on her face as she gazed up at him.

“I gotta get you outta here.” he growled before pulling her off the dance floor and towards the door, hand tight on her waist as he called out for Kenny to put the drinks on his tab.

It seemed like half the bar was staring at them as they exited, focused on Rhett’s hat on her head, but she couldn’t find the energy to care as Rhett looked back at her with a devilish grin that made tantalizing promises for when he got her alone. He held the door open for her as they left the bar and his warm palm was flat against her back as he steered her towards the passenger door of a blue pick-up truck. He opened the door for her and leaned in for another kiss, desperately missing the feeling of her lips against his. He had meant for it to be quick, he really had, but they simply couldn’t stop once they’d started. Her hands looped around his neck and into his hair as his hands wandered the silhouette of her body before settling on her ass with a small squeeze. She pulled back to catch her breath and put a hand on his chest as a signal to stop.

“You’d better get me to a bed, Rhett. I’m too classy to let you fuck me against your truck… well, at least not for our first time.” she said with a wink before turning to hop up into the passenger seat.

“Yes ma’am!” Rhett replied smugly as he closed the door and hurried around to get in the driver’s seat.

As he started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot, his hard cock ached, straining almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. The air was thick with sexual tension, the only noises being an old country song playing quietly on the crackly radio and the rumble of the engine. Rhett stared straight ahead at the road because he thought if he glanced at her, he’d likely have to pull over the truck and take her right there on the roadside in the bed of his truck. But he kept himself in check, thinking that she was the kind of girl who deserved to be fucked on the softest bed he could find.

He only lasted about a minute of driving before one of his hands moved from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh, toying with the hem of her dress just above her knee. His fingers wandered her thigh as he slowly pulled her dress up to reveal more and more of her bare skin. She shifted in her seat, squeezing her legs together as she tried to ignore the ever-growing wildfire of desire within her core that hadn’t given her a moment’s reprieve since it had sparked during their first kiss.

“What have we here?” Rhett asked as he caught a peek of her lacy panties as the fabric of her skirt bunched up at her waist.

The hungry rasp in his voice sent a shiver of attraction through her body and she dug her nails into the seat of his truck, gripping so hard that her knuckles were surely turning white.

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asked with a smirk and she sucked in a breath as his fingers skimmed over the waistband of her panties, and she felt as if they were miles away from the place she wanted him to touch.

“Oh god Rhett, please don’t tease.” she groaned as his wandering fingers advanced towards her clit but retreated just shy of reaching it.

“I’ll take care of you darlin’, just be patient.” he assured her, fingers trailing teasing patterns into the lacy fabric above her pussy. “Fuck, you look so sexy just sitting here all hot ‘n bothered in my truck in your pretty little dress with my hat on.”

She whined, desperately wishing for his fingers to move just inches down to relieve her burning need. Rhett’s teasing had frustrated her enough that she decided to take matters into her own hands, or more accurately, his. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down in between her legs, giving a sigh when she felt the slight pressure against her clit. Rhett chuckled but before she could ask what was so funny, his deft fingers pushed her panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into her wet core. She gasped in surprise and her hands flew to clutch his wrist as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out.

“So impatient…” he tsked, plunging even deeper. “Do I need to tie your hands up so you’ll be a good girl?”

His words sent a thrill through her body and her pussy clenched at the thought, her walls squeezing his fingers as she let out a slight moan. Her reaction surprised Rhett and he decided to test a theory, still pumping in and out.

“Oh, you like that? You like the thought of being tied up?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You’d look so fucking hot all trussed up in my lasso.”

Once again, her pussy clenched and he chuckled. She was getting wetter by the second and he knew she was just as into the idea as he was.

“Is that what you want, girl? You want me to bring my lasso to bed? Tie you up and take you over and over until you can’t even think?” Rhett asked, stopping his movements completely when she didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of the delicious drag of his fingers. “I said, is that what you want, girl? I won’t do shit until I know exactly what you want me to do to you tonight.”

“Yes! Oh god yes, Rhett!” she cried out, hands squeezing his wrist as if it would make him continue his movements. “I want you tie me up and fuck me so good, please Rhett!”

“There you go, darlin’. Good girls who use their words get rewarded.” he said, adding a third finger and resuming his movements as she gave a breathy moan. “Fuck, you feel so damn good around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. So god damn wet too, all this for me?”

She couldn’t even answer with anything more than a moan as he finger fucked her but Rhett knew the answer already. His thumb swirled her clit as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt at a relentless pace and she could hardly breathe as her climax quickly approached.

“Rhett!” she exclaimed, her hands gripping onto his arm as the waves of pleasure finally began to crest.

“Shh, I’ve got you girl.” Rhett tsked like he was trying to calm a spooked animal and it only made her pussy clench down on his fingers harder as she orgasmed. “I don’t know what kind of small city boys you’ve been fucking in the past so I gotta make sure you’re ready to take a big country boy like me.” He rode her through her orgasm, giving one last hard thrust just before it ended and curling his fingers to reach that perfect spot inside before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. She watched breathlessly as he sucked his fingers clean of her juices, humming in content as he pulled the truck into the hotel parking lot.

“If you can make me cum like that with just your fingers, I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.” she said and he smirked.

“Let’s see how long you can last riding on my cock. Maybe you’ll make it more than eight seconds like a true cowgirl.” he joked with a wink before hopping out of the truck and heading around to her side.

Still catching her breath, she was vaguely aware of him grabbing something from the truck bed and when he opened her door, she found him hanging his lasso on his belt. She turned to hop out only for Rhett to grab her by the waist and pull her out, setting her down between him and the truck. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss that slowly built in intensity until she was so caught up in the feeling of his tongue that she just barely noticed Rhett spinning her away from the truck and closing the door, walking her backwards towards the motel. They paused briefly so she could gasp out her room number and take the keys out of her pocket, which Rhett quickly took before he resumed steering her in the right direction.

Luckily, her room was on the first floor so they didn’t have to use the stairs, which would have been impossible with the way they were stumbling around blindly, connected at both the lips and the hips. They fumbled their way down the hallway, bumping into walls and doors as they made out with a ferocious hunger for one another. Evidently, Rhett became impatient with how slow their progress to her room was and he begrudgingly pulled his lips off of hers. Before she could whine or ask what he was doing, she suddenly found herself hoisted over his shoulder, looking down at his delicious backside as his strong arms anchored her thighs to his chest.

“Rhett!” she squealed in surprise and he silenced her with a light slap on her ass.

“Hush now girl, wouldn’t want to wake the other motel guests, would we?” he said smugly as he carefully leaned down to grab his hat from off the ground where it had fallen from her head when he had thrown her over his shoulder.

He put the hat back on his head as he hurried down the hallway to her room, briefly swearing as he fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. He swept inside, kicking the door closed behind him and flicking the light switch to turn on the lamps as he headed straight for the bed. She expected him to toss her onto the bed like a sack of potatoes with his hurry and ferocity but was surprised when he carefully laid her on the bed like she was the most fragile and precious thing he had ever touched. Her heart fluttered at how special it made her feel. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes as he chucked off his flannel and his boots, dropping them on the floor before setting his hat and lasso on the bed.

“Didn’t think you knew how to be gentle, cowboy.” she said cheekily, her breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath from the excitement and Rhett smirked as he pulled off her shoes and discarded them.

“I can be gentle if that’s what you want, sweetheart.” he said as he slowly and carefully climbed on top of her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face even as he caged her beneath him. “I can be whatever you want, darlin’. Gentle…” he purred, pressing feather-light kisses to her neck, a smile on his lips just barely ghosting over her skin before he moved to her ear. “Rough…” he growled before surging downwards to give her a bruisingly hard kiss that took her breath away before pulling back and leaving her gasping for air, blinking up at his smug smirk. “Somewhere in between…” he said as he returned to her neck, applying a light pressure as he tongued a spot that would surely be a hickey the next morning. It was just perfect and a long moan escaped her mouth involuntarily, her arms wrapping around his neck and threading her fingers into his hair with light tugs and Rhett chuckled against her skin. “Ah, there it is.” he said smugly.

“Don’t stop!” she cried out and he complied, returning to tonguing her skin. “Fuck, Rhett, don’t stop!”

Rhett’s mouth explored every inch of her skin from the top of her neck to the cleavage above the neckline of her dress, taking stock of what spots made her mewl and squirm the most. He pushed her dress straps aside so he could press tender kisses onto her shoulder, finding a particularly sensitive spot near her collarbone that he spent extra time teasing. His hands slipped beneath her body and began to unzip her dress, only getting halfway down her back before the zipper got stuck. He pulled it again but annoyingly it held fast. He yanked it once more, grumbling in frustration against her neck when it refused to come loose.

“Slow down there cowboy.” she warned and he pulled away from her skin to look at her. “You rip my favorite dress and I’ll cut up your favorite hat.”

“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.” he replied with a smirk but nevertheless his movements slowed to carefully finish removing her dress, the zipper finally giving way and letting him pull it all the way down.

He slipped the fabric off of her body, reveling as more and more of her body was revealed to him, inch by tantalizing inch. He admired every curve, astonished with how she only seemed to get more and more attractive the less clothes she had on. He divested her of her bra much easier than he had with her dress, able to do it one-handed and without looking from a lot of practice. As her breasts were freed, her hands went to cover them instinctually, looking shy and nervous although he simply couldn’t understand why.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart.” he coaxed, gently pulling her hands from her chest and taking in the sight of her bare breasts and stiffening nipples. She was gorgeous and he felt like he was looking at a goddess, unable to comprehend why she would ever think she was anything other than perfect. “You’re so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

She sucked in a breath at his lovely words and the almost irreverent look in his eyes as he gazed down at her body in admiration and she was caught off guard when he stooped down to return to kissing her, capturing her lips with his own before she could even have a moment to think of a response. Without the fabric of her dress as protection, the cold metal of his ridiculously large belt buckle teased her bare skin as it was pressed between their bodies and she wouldn’t be surprised if the next morning, she ended up with an indentation of it there on her stomach.

She realized that Rhett was still completely dressed while she had been stripped all the way down to only her panties. Wanting to even the playing field a bit, she grabbed at the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, Rhett pulling back from the kiss to remove it completely, tossing it aside. She marveled at his well-toned abs, her fingers skating along the hard lines of muscle. She chuckled at the tattoo of a man riding a bull that he had on his right pec, the black ink a stark contrast to his sun kissed skin even in the low lamplight of the hotel room. He had a bruise on his ribcage that was forming and he knew it would hurt like a bitch in the morning but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched her eyes devour him.

“Doesn’t hurt much right now, sweetheart.” he assured her. “This was one of my luckier rides, not as beat up as I usually am even though Napalm was a real mean son of a bitch. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” she asked tentatively when he winced as her fingertips grazed the tender skin.

“A little.” he answered, dipping down to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t really notice it when I have you to distract me.”

“Guess I better get to distracting then.” she replied with a smirk before latching on to his neck, determined to leave a mark on him to counter all the ones he had given her.

“Tryin’ to mark me up, girl?” he asked, half a chuckle, half a moan. “Let everyone in town know you’ve staked your claim on me?”

She laughed but was cut off as it suddenly turned into a moan, his hands grasping at her breasts. She found herself unbelievably turned on by his wandering hands (and mouth) as they continued to make out, pausing occasionally only to suck a hickey into the other’s neck before returning to their mouths. With his shirt off, her hands were able to explore his body, memorizing the feel of every inch of his skin under her fingertips. Feeling his erection straining against the confines of his jeans as he ground himself against her, she let her hands trail down his body to his belt.

She mentally cursed him for having such a ridiculously large belt buckle, making it ten times harder than it needed to be for her to undo it. After trying and failing a few times, she groaned in impatient frustration, tugging at his belt in angry desperation. She felt him smirk against her lips and before she had time to react, Rhett grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gasped in surprise and wiggled fruitlessly in his grip as he pulled back to admire the sight of her below him.

“Your hands are getting in my way, darlin’.” he scolded playfully. “Do I need to get my lasso out or can you behave like a good girl?”

“Hmmm…” she said, pretending to think before replying with mock innocence. “I’m not sure if I can control myself, Rhett.”

“You sure sweetheart?” he asked seriously, giving her an out she didn’t need.

“I’m sure.” she replied.

“Gonna need a safeword, darlin’. Got one in mind?” Rhett asked, trailing a finger down her front teasingly and she thought carefully for a moment.

“How about ‘Napalm’…” she said, a sly smile spreading on her face. “You know, in the hopes you can last longer than eight seconds with me.”

He laughed and said “I think I know how to put that wicked tongue of yours to better use…” before pulling her in to roughly kiss her.

She got no warning before he ended the kiss as suddenly as it began and he moved to sit up on his knees, roughly flipping her over before returning to straddle her. She didn’t even have time to gasp or whine as he pulled her hands behind her back and leaned over to grab his lasso. He arranged her arms so that they were one on top of the other with her elbows against the opposite wrists before beginning to wind his lasso around them as if he was making a design of some kind.

As he worked, she groaned at the sensation of his clothed erection against her ass. Her head was pushed against the mattress, the cool sheets cushioning her cheek and teasing her hard nipples. He smugly hummed a tune that she eventually recognized at the song that had been playing in the truck on the ride from the bar. She moved her arms and shoulders around slightly to test how sturdy his work in progress was and he reached around to pull her head up slightly, a careful but firm hand on her throat.

“You really need to learn how to behave, sweetheart.” he growled into her ear and she felt a shiver run down her spine in anticipation. “If you can’t stay still until I’m done, I’m gonna leave you tied up to make you watch me jerk myself off and you won’t get to cum again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes.” she replied breathlessly, his hand around her throat gentle to not hurt her or cut off her air but still firm enough to remind her he was in charge.

“Yes, what?” he asked, squeezing just a miniscule amount so she had to take slightly deeper breaths to answer.

“Yes, sir.” she replied and he removed the pressure on her throat so she could breathe normally again, his hand only serving to keep her head up.

“Good girl.” he cooed, pressing a soft rewarding kiss onto her shoulder before lowering her back down and resuming his work.

She stayed still, just enjoying the feeling of the coarse rope on her skin until her arms were completely bound together and Rhett was seemingly pleased with his work.

“Is that too tight, darlin’?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.” she answered before smugly adding “Sir.”

In seconds, he had her flipped back over onto her back, her arms trapped beneath her but she obediently stayed still, gazing up at him faux-innocently as she waited for his next instruction.

“Alright darlin’, test it out.” he ordered smugly. “See if my ropework is adequate enough for your high city standards.”

Following his instructions, she tried to pull her wrists free but only succeeded in wiggling her upper half. With her shoulders back, her chest was pushed out and Rhett seemed very pleased at the sight of her wriggling form, her breasts jiggling lightly. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her lips teasingly before moving to run his fingers over her nipples.

She was helpless, but in the best way possible. She liked–no, loved–being at his mercy, completely reliant on him to provide for her pleasure. It was strange, she had never given anyone that kind of power over her in bed, not even long-term lovers, she just didn’t trust them. But for some baffling reason, she was not only comfortable but eager to give Rhett, a man she had met only hours earlier, that power.

“Perfect.” Rhett said, so quietly it was almost as if it was to himself, as he gazed down at her and continued to drag his fingernails over her nipples until they were stiff with arousal. “God, you look so fucking perfect all trussed up in my lasso.” Embarrassed by his praise, she averted her eyes as she felt her cheeks heating up but he simply pulled her chin to look back at him. “Don’t hide from me, girl. You need to know just how perfect you are.”

She had no reply, stunned speechless, only able to respond by surging upwards as much as she could to kiss him passionately. He immediately reciprocated the urgency in her kiss, his tongue parting her lips before delving deeper into her mouth. He was laying above her, hands on either side of her head supporting his weight as he wedged his knee between her thighs, pressing directly against her core. Slowly, she began grinding against it, her only way to bring even a fraction of relief to her aching cunt with her hands tied behind her back. She rocked against his knee several times before Rhett realized just what she was doing, pulling back to watch but leaving his knee in place. She wiggled and whined at the loss of his mouth against hers, helpless to do anything but continue humping his knee like a bitch in heat.

“Darlin’, you look so hot trying to ride my thigh like it’s a bull.” he growled as his blue eyes fixed on her intently.

“I’m not an expert like you, I think I might need some pointers…” she said, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly as she continued to desperately buck her hips, feeling the rough denim of his jeans even through the thin fabric of her panties.

“I think you're right, and I do believe I promised you some cowgirl lessons.” he replied smugly.

Carefully he pulled her up with him, sitting against the headboard with his legs spread obscenely as he pulled her to straddle his thigh. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his cowboy hat, placing it upon her head as she narrowed her eyes at him with an amused curiosity.

“Can’t ride without the hat, darlin’.” he said simply and she opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when his strong hands grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his thigh so she would moan. “Go ahead and let me see what I’m working with.”

His hands fell from her hips to lie beside him, watching her with hungry eyes as she began to ride his thigh, chasing enough friction against her core to bring her relief. Strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or self-conscious anymore. She had thought that she’d feel silly dry humping Rhett’s jeans like a bitch in heat but when he looked at her the way he did, she just felt sexy. She bit her lip to contain her moans as she shifted her hips back and forth, up and down, and everything in between. Her head fell back slightly but she pulled back up just in time so as not to drop his hat.

“How am I doing? Passing for a cowgirl?” she asked after a minute of dragging herself against his thigh over and over again.

“You’re a natural, sweetheart.” he said, gazing up at her reverently. “Only thing I can teach you is to use your thighs too, not just your hips.”

“Like this?” she asked, continuing her movements but clenching her thighs down against his to keep herself steady.

“Perfect…” Rhett replied, leaning forwards to press sloppy kisses on her breasts as she rode, his large hands warming her skin as they returned to her hips and then traveled up her sides to assist in his assault on her breasts.

“Fuck, Rhett…” she moaned, struggling to keep her rhythm as she got ever closer to her climax, control of her body slipping away as her stamina ran out but her need increased.

Evidently, Rhett noticed her beginning to struggle, dragging his hands back down from her breasts to grab her hips and guide her movements, taking over when she was getting too close to the edge to keep it up. With his grip bruisingly hard on her hips, he helped to keep her riding through the intensely pleasurable waves of her orgasm when it hit suddenly.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.” he assured her as she got lost in the feeling, throwing her head back with a loud cry, his hat flying off her head and onto the floor. She panted, her chest heaving as her orgasm ran its course.

“Good girl.” Rhett purred and despite having just cum, she felt a stirring in her core once again at those words, her body seemingly not satisfied with just the one soul-shattering orgasm.

She slumped forwards in exhaustion against his chest, unable to push herself back up with her hands still tied behind her back. He let her sit there for a moment to catch her breath, her head still spinning as he kept an arm around her waist to pull her against him and keep her grounded, his other hands stroking her hair comfortingly. When she had had enough time to reorient herself, he carefully laid her back down onto the bed, her bound arms trapped uselessly between her body and the bed once more.

She whined, wiggling in disappointment as he got up out of the bed and he paused to lean over and inspect her panties, now drenched with her cum. He traced just the tip of his finger against the fabric, chuckling when she lifted her hips to chase his hand as it retreated.

“Look at that, darlin’... fucking soaked. Even got a little on my pants.” He said before he shucked off his jeans, discarding them to the floor and returning to his place in between her legs. “Sweetheart, are you particularly attached to this pair of panties?”

“No…” she answered, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Good. I’ll buy you a new pair.” he said, with only that serving as a warning before he literally ripped them off her and she gasped, half in surprise and half in desire. “Well if that ain’t just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Rhett, I need you…” she moaned, feeling particularly empty as admired her cunt.

“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked and she nodded vigorously, pulling his dick out of his boxers to let her see it for the first time.

Rhett smirked as her eyes widened at the sight, well aware of how above average his dick was and reveled in people’s stunned reactions when they saw it. ‘Of course’, she thought looking at his large member, ‘Rhett not only had movie star looks but he had been blessed with a porn star cock as well’. From his position kneeling between her legs, he let his cock rest on her abdomen, showing her just how deep he would go when fully seated inside of her. It was intimidating but she felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t get it inside her soon.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked again, tapping his cock on her stomach, a bead of precum leaking from it’s head onto her overheated skin.

“Yes Rhett, please!” she whined, wiggling in her bonds desperately.

“Want me to wear a condom? I swear on my mama’s life I’m clean.” he assured her.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, Rhett, please just fuck me.” she begged impatiently.

“Shh darlin’...” he said quietly, amused at her desperation but still reaching down to stroke her hair out of her face. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Good things come to girls who are patient, sweetheart.”

“Rhett, please let me touch you, please, please, please.” she babbled and he shushed her again.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart. Take a breath.” he said, reaching under her to untie the ropes expertly with one hand and without a minute, she was free.

Immediately, her hands went to his body, touching every inch of his bare skin that she could, surging upwards to kiss him as if his lips were the air she needed to breathe. She pulled back for air and he cupped her cheek with one hand, the other by her head holding his weight off of her.

“Ready for me, darlin’? He asked, the head of his cock resting against her entrance and she nodded vigorously. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He entered her slowly and she gasped, feeling suddenly as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. Rhett moved at a glacial pace, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of his large cock stretching her open. He groaned as he felt her walls squeeze him, grunting when he finally bottomed out in her hot, wet cunt. He stayed still, giving her a minute to get used to the feeling of being stretched so deeply, resting his forehead against hers and murmuring encouragement and praise. He wiped a tear when it fell from the corner of her watering eyes and pressed a sweet kiss onto her lips, reminding her to breathe.

“You alright sweetheart?” he asked lowly and she took a breath, beginning to feel the discomfort fade and the pleasure return.

“Yes.” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes as he smiled down at her.

He began slow, pulling out almost all the way only to push back in at an agonizingly slow pace, increasing the speed just a miniscule amount with each thrust. When he bottomed out in her again after a few thrusts, she moaned and her legs went instinctively around his hips, heels digging into his ass like she was trying to keep him from pulling out.

“Faster, Rhett, please.” she moaned and he obliged, setting a steady pace as he thrust in and out.

As he sped up, she clung to him like a lifeline in the sea, tugging on his hair and raking her nails lightly (for the most part) across his back. The wet slapping noises of their bodies meeting rose in intensity, his grunts and her moans growing louder and louder until it was all she could hear. As he pounded into her, she threw her head back and closed her eyes in ecstasy. Never before had she been fucked so good and so hard and she was surprised at just how much she was loving missionary position, reveling in the intimacy of it instead of the impersonal and quick doggie style fucks most guys went for.

She could feel herself getting closer to the edge and evidently Rhett noticed too as he slipped a hand down between their bodies and rubbed circles on her clit, sending her crashing over into her third soul-crushing toe-curling orgasm of the night. Rhett wasn’t far behind, the feeling of her clamping down on his cock as she screamed in pleasure being enough to push him over the cliff, the pace of his hips stuttering as he came hard buried deep in her cunt. He groaned as he emptied himself into her, taking a moment to breathe and memorize the feeling of her around him before he pulled out and sat back on his heels. He watched in stunned awe as his cum mixed with hers, dripping out of her hole and onto the sheets.

Satisfied with himself, he smirked when he saw her staring up at the ceiling in a dazed bliss, glassy eyes and wide smile on her face. He put on his boxers and went to the bathroom for a washcloth and a glass of water. She vaguely registered him cleaning her up, coaxing her to drink from the cup and felt chaste kisses on her wrists as he confirmed she didn’t have rope burns. She had never felt so satisfied, her mind a pleasurable fog as he put his flannel shirt on her, buttoning it up before he clicked off the lamp and settled into bed beside her.

“You still with me, darlin’?” Rhett asked, pulling the sheets up to cover them both.

“Yeah… I just…” she replied, trying to force her brain to form coherent sentences instead of reveling in the post-orgasmic haze.

“Never been fucked like that by a city boy?” he asked with a grin that revealed he already knew the answer and she laughed as she turned her head to look at him, thoughts finally clearing up.

“Three orgasms in one night? No, no one’s ever done that.” she replied as he reached across her to grab her waist and hold her closer, her hand going to trail mindless patterns on his arm as she spoke. “Usually I’m lucky if I can get one that I don’t have to do myself.”

“That’s a damn crime.” Rhett said. “You deserve to be getting them morning, noon, and night… and a few in-between for good measure.”

“I gotta say you’re pretty good at pillow talk.” she replied.

“It ain’t just talk, sweetheart. You should be waking up with a mouth on your cunt every morning.” he said and she laughed, unsure if he was joking or not.

“I’ve always wanted to wake up like that.” she mused.

“Then that’s how I’ll get you up tomorrow morning.” Rhett replied and when she gazed into his blue eyes and that devilish grin, she knew he wasn’t kidding, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.

“Careful cowboy, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she said with a smile as she curled closer into his arms with her head on his chest, slowly letting sleep overtake her as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She was so exhausted that she wasn’t sure if she imagined him pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead just before she fell asleep.

She thought it was a dream at first, the feeling of a tongue lapping at her folds, a nose bumping against her clit. It felt heavenly, like she was an angel floating among the clouds, with only two strong arms anchored around her thighs to ground her and keep her tethered to reality. She sighed out a breathy little half-moan and heard a deep chuckle from the mouth at her core, the vibrations against her wet cunt only intensifying the sensations before the mouth retreated from her entirely.

“Ah, there’s my pretty little city girl wakin’ up for me.” A deep voice rasped and she opened her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, to find Rhett grinning up at her like a devil between her legs, the lower half of his face glinting with her slick.

“Rhett?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you I’d wake you with my mouth on your cunt…” he replied. “And I always keep my promises.” He winked before licking a strip on her clit that made her throw her head back and moan.

Surprised that he was not only willing, but eager, to eat her out she moaned for him to continue. He obliged obediently, sucking at her clit as she begged for him not to stop, his strong arms anchored around her thighs to keep her wide open for him. With one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping the sheets hard, she orgasmed, chanting his name like a prayer as she came on his face. Rhett dutifully rode her through the waves of her orgasm, smiling against her cunt as he was pleased with her pleasure. He licked one last stroke over her folds as she panted in the wake of her orgasm.

He climbed up her body to give her a hungry kiss, the taste of her still on his lips making her head spin before he pulled back.

“I think I just proved I was telling the truth when I said I’m real good at everything I do.” he said

“Are you always this humble?” she laughed.

“Modesty is overrated, sweetheart.” he replied, smiling before he kissed her once more, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her flannel to give himself better access to her breasts. “My shirt looks better on you than it does on me… but I think it’d look even better on the floor.”

She giggled against his lips as he pulled it off of her, tossing it onto the floor as he continued to play with her breasts. His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he groaned as he rolled off her to check it.

“Fucking Perry…” he muttered and she laughed, remembering he had told her Perry was his older brother. “One sec darlin’.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, taking the time to ogle at his naked torso in the daylight. His bruise was getting worse and she was noticing more in other spots that she hadn’t seen before in the low lamp light. His bull rider tattoo on his right pec looked even better now that she could make out all the little details. She had marked him up with some hickies, no doubt in her mind that she looked much the same. Realizing she had to use the bathroom, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge, pausing to look back at Rhett when he asked where she was going.

“To the bathroom and then maybe a shower, that alright with you cowboy?” she asked sarcastically and he shook his head and smiled.

She went to stand up but her legs were too wobbly and she began to fall, Rhett lunging forwards to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her back up onto the bed, now sitting right behind her. He laughed and she could feel his chest rumbling against her back, clearly proud of himself for contributing to her current state.

“Not funny, Rhett.” she scolded, shaking her head as she was unable to stop herself from smiling.

“You seem to very clumsy sweetheart, that’s twice now I’ve caught you while you’re falling.” he joked. “Maybe I make you a little weak at the knees, huh?”

“Asshole.” she laughed, shoving him away before he swept her off her feet and began walking her to the bathroom, her arms quickly flying around his neck.

He carried her to the bathroom, depositing her on the toilet before stepping to the sink to get a drink. After she finished her business, she stuck her head out the door and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Wanna join me in the shower, cowboy?” she asked coyly and he smirked as she crooked a finger towards him.

“I believe I’m obliged to, someone needs to keep you from slipping and falling again on your shaky little legs.” he joked as he walked to the shower and turned it on.

She should have known that having just an innocent shower was impossible with Rhett Abbott. What started as him washing her back quickly turned sexual when his hands wandered down to her ass and she found herself yet again being railed within an inch of her life by him. Afterwards, she shooed him off so she could wash her hair without him trying to seduce her again and once he ensured that she could stand on her own with a cheeky little smile, he hopped out to get dressed while she finished her shower. When she walked out of the bathroom covered only by a towel, Rhett tried to steal her it to make her laugh before they began making out once more.

“I wish I could just spend all day between your legs.” he groaned, trying to pull himself away from her so he didn’t do just that. “I could show you all the different uses for my lasso that are way better than roping cattle.”

“Tempting offer but I think my brother would break down the door thinking I was in trouble if I didn't come out.” she said with a laugh as she patted his chest and playfully pushed him away. “Speaking of which, you’d better get out of here before he comes to pick me up.”

She quickly got dressed, spying him slipping her ripped panties from the previous night into his back pocket with a cheeky smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me sir, are you stealing my panties?” she asked with a laugh.

“Well ma’am, I have to know what size and brand to get you for a replacement.” he replied smugly. “That’s all it is.”

“Oh, that’s all is it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she pulled him against her by his belt. “It wouldn’t be because you want a souvenir of your conquest? Because I don’t think it’s very fair that you get one and I don’t.”

“Well, I could give you my boxers but going commando for a day of ranch work might be a little painful.” he said and she shook her head. “So, how about this as a souvenir?” Rhett asked as he placed his hat on her head.

“So if cowboy law says that a girl taking a cowboy’s hat and putting it on her head means she’s going home with him, what does a cowboy taking off his hat and putting it on her head mean?” she asked and he smirked.

“You’ll have to find out by going out with me again tonight.” he replied.

“Hmm.” she said, pretending to think about his offer. “I guess I might be free tonight for some more lessons. Besides, I told you last night that I wanted to get my mouth on your cock and I still haven't so I have some promises to keep too…”

“Damn it woman, you’re really gonna make it real hard for me to leave aren't you?” he asked and she laughed.

“I’m certainly making something hard.” she said with a smirk as she trailed a hand down to palm his hardening bulge before stepping away to open the door in feigned innocence. “See you tonight, cowboy.”

“Can I get your number before I go, darlin’?” he asked as he stepped out the door and a sly smile grew on her face.

“Check your shirt pocket.” she said with a smirk and a wink before closing the door, leaving him dumbfounded on her doorstep when he reached into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out a slip of paper with her number on it, knowing that he’d truly met his match.

Looking through the peephole, she watched him walk towards his truck, a slight spring in his step. She could hear him whistling even through the door and down the hall and she laughed when she realized that it was the same song that had been playing when he fingered her in the cab of his truck, the same one he had been humming when he had been tying her up.

Peering out the curtains of the window, she watched him drive away, her brother’s truck passing Rhett’s exiting one as he entered the parking lot and she could swear that she saw her brother staring Rhett down through the windshield. Quickly, she got dressed and ready to go before heading down to the parking lot, deciding to leave Rhett’s hat on her head to mess with her brother. Sam was checking his phone when she hopped in the front seat, Jenna and the kids in the back seat.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully and he nodded as he glanced over at her, returning his eyes to the wheel before they shot open in surprise and he had to do a double take.

“Whose hat is that?” he asked sternly. “That had better not be Rhett Abbott’s.”

“In an attempt to stop you from having a heart attack, I’m choosing not to answer that question.” she replied, barely able to hide her smug smirk at her brother’s panic.

“Good for you, girl!” Jenna cried, leaning forwards from the backseat between her children’s car seats to pat her sister-in-law on the shoulder. “Domesticate that wild cowboy.”

“No!” Sam said quickly, turning to look at his wife in stunned disbelief. “There will be no ‘domesticating’ any cowboys, especially not Rhett Abbott.”

“We’ll talk later…” Jenna mouthed to Y/N with a wink as she sat back in her seat.

Sam sighed grumpily, his face contorting into a frown as he shifted gears and pulled the truck out of the parking lot and down the road towards their ranch.

“Auntie Y/N, can I be the flower girl at the wedding?” Sarah asked suddenly from the back seat and Sam just about jumped out of his skin.

“WHAT?” he panickedly sputtered, Jesse laughing at his dad’s reaction. “Sarah Ann Y/L/N, what are you talking about?”

“Wearing someone else’s hat means that you like like them.” Sarah replied, cheerfully. “Chrissy and the older girls told me that her big sister was wearing a guy’s hat and the next week they got married!”

“If there’s a wedding, do I have to wear my sunday clothes?” Jesse whined. “I hate them, they’re so itchy!”

“No one is wearing sunday clothes because no one is getting married!” Sam insisted, his wife and sister struggling not to laugh at how virulently against even the suggestion of his little sister marrying the so-called “manwhore of Wabang”.

Y/N was so amused that she didn’t even try to reassure her brother that she was not going to be getting married after one date, but she also didn’t mention her second date with Rhett later that evening, deciding to give his heart a rest for a while as she thought about what cowgirl lessons Rhett might teach her that night.

[billythenightguard]

Run Away: Detention (2011) & FNAF Movie Crossover - Chapter Three

Masterlist

Mentions: math

Word Count: 1265

Warnings: fluff, math homework

Older!Clapton/Mike x GN!Reader

You and Mike had been coworkers for two weeks now, always chatting and getting to know each other in the thirty minutes of shift change. You had noticed that the snacks often went out fast, but you never complained, you just brought extra.

“I sort of have a favor I was wondering I could ask of you.” Mike said, looking down sheepishly almost.

“You know you can ask me anything.” You said sweetly to him, setting your things into the locker that was now yours, Mike still sitting in the swivel chair.

“Could you babysit Abby tonight… I… I can’t afford a babysitter and I’m willing to work a double as payment.” He quickly stammered out, it was a big deal to him, asking for help like this. But Max bailed on him, and he didn’t trust anyone else.

“I’ll be glad to watch her, and no worries about that double, okay? I’ll babysit her for the next five years until she’s old enough to be home alone if need be.”

“But what about-”

“Do not worry about paying me.” You interrupted, seeing how the worry in his big brown eyes melted away… almost like how Clapton’s would. “I like Abby, she’s sweet and kind. I’d happily watch her everyday for you okay?”

Mike nodded, trying not to tear up in front of you. Maybe you didn't know who he was yet, but you were still so kind to him. Still the sweetheart neighbor he adored. Once he hit the age of 12, he had tried harder than ever to get over the childhood crush, it wasn’t appropriate. He knew that. But now, he’s 29 and you’re 24, no one would even bat an eye at that. He wished desperately he could have stayed.

“Hey, uh, this’ll sound silly, but did you ever go to prom? Abby heard some kid talking about their big sister going and she’s asking me. But I never went.” He said honestly.

“No,” you spoke softly, looking down, “I was meant to. When I was 14, that best friend I mentioned before, I was gonna go to his senior prom with him. His ex was this annoying skank, she kept wanting him to get into fights for her so he broke it off and asked me, just as friends, but truth be told I felt myself falling for him.”

Mike felt his heart catch in his chest and a lump form in his throat, you were in love with him? All this time, “what would you do, if he ever came back?” He asked, hoping you couldn’t detect the eager nervousness in his voice.

“First, I’d slap him, then I’d kiss him.” You said, smiling with a hint of a blush.

“I’m here for Abby Schmidt.” You said to the car line worker, showing her the piece of paper Mike gave you for pickup, along with the note he had written to inform them that you were meant to grab Abby and for them to please add you to her emergency contact form.

You watched as they turned and went to go get her, music softly humming in your car as you daydreamed slightly about what prom with Clapton would have been like, Mike’s question was innocent but it certainly got your mind thinking. You were interrupted by a squeal of your name and your back door nearly tearing open from excitement.

“Hey there, Abs!” You smiled, turning to her to make sure she was buckled in.

“Are you my babysitter?!” Straight to the point, but happy, you loved her already.

“For only the next five years, sweet girl.” You laughed as she let out an insane amount of giggles, looking forward and driving out of the line. “Alright, so I was thinking we will do some grocery shopping for both of our houses. Will you help me and tell me what you guys usually eat?”

“Spaghetti and pizza!” You laughed and looked l into the rearview mirror to see her.

“Yeah? That’s a good combination, alright we will get spaghetti and pizza, and what else?” You asked, smiling in adoration and making a list of everything Abby rattled off.

You had gotten everything both your home and the Schmidt home needed, as a teenager when you babysat for money, you always would buy your own ingredients to cook with, hating the idea of using other people’s food without knowing if they may already have plans for it. Abby helped you to bring in your own bags and groceries first, it turned out you lived just down the road from them.

“Alright,” you smiled, rubbing your hands to alleviate the slight ache from carrying in heavy bags of groceries, you and Abby just finished putting away the groceries in her home, “spaghetti and pizza for dinner?”

“Yes, please!”

“Okay, go do your homework for me, and I’ll check it when you’re done.” Abby gave a mock salute which made you both giggle, but nonetheless she went to do as she was asked.

You didn’t know exactly how big her appetite was, but you still played it safe by making a smaller portion of spaghetti, you hoped she’d like it, the sauce was homemade versus that of in a jar, call it old habits, you hadn’t bought jarred sauce… well ever.

“Abby!” You called as the timer for the pizza went off just a little after the spaghetti finished, “dinner is ready!” She came out of her room with her homework in hand, “trade.” You said with a smile, taking her homework and giving her a plate of food.

“Oh, no… math.” You groaned a little as you looked it over. You were never one for any sort of mathematics, but Clapton was, he could quickly solve any equation in his head like it was nothing, and he never shamed you for taking a little longer to solve it.

“It’s okay if you’re not good at math, Mike is!” Abby piped up after chewing and swallowing her food.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! He’s like a math genius!”

You smiled and chuckled, you knew this had to be turned in the next day, maybe you should call him and see if he could help you on the ones you didn’t know for sure.

“Hello?” Mike spoke through the phone, hoping he didn’t sound like he had just woken up, although you’d already caught him sleeping a few times.

“Hey, Mike!” He immediately perked up at your voice, “everything is good here, Abby ate dinner and got washed up, I just had a couple questions about her math homework… I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to check it in the morning and I didn’t want her to possibly turn it in wrong. I’ve been told you’re a math genius.” You giggled albeit nervously, hoping he wouldn’t be mad at you.

“Oh, oh, that’s good. I’m glad she’s not giving you trouble.” He said, rubbing his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“Sounds like she got them right, so no need for you to worry.” He smiled, chuckling quietly at the sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.

“Thank god, because I’m not the person to come to for math.” You said, putting her homework neatly into her backpack. “I’m sorry to bother you at work for that.”

“Don’t be, it’s boring here otherwise.” He almost didn’t want you to hang up, well scratch that. He didn’t want you to.

“Goodnight Mike, I’ll see you in the morning.” You said after a few minutes of a blissful silence.

“Goodnight…” click “firecracker.”

Tag List: @na-is-salty @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @mad-die45 @cancelledkaley @mschmidt @dessxoxsworld @earphonejack09

[greasersgyatt]

Hiii <3 can you write an outsiders tickle fic where a female reader is really ticklish but tries her best to hind it from Dally but of course he finds out and takes advantage of her ticklishness? Dally is such a teasing tickler 🙈

{Yesss❗️❗️}

Dally and Y/N have been friends for a good few years now. They were two stereotypical boy - girl bestfriends. They would tease eachother, make fun of eachother just for fun and they would be reslly touching just for shits and giggles. They reslly didnt mind eachother, infact they loved eachothers company. Even if theyre both bitches to eachother 24/7.

Y/N invited Dallas over to her house just like any oher day. They were sitting in her bed while watching a horror movie and eating snacks. They loved having little movie days even if they did it almost everyday. It was always enjoyable for Dally to scare Y/N during the scary parts of movies because she would always give the best reactions.

Today, dally tried something new.

As they watched a new horror movie that came out, dally started to scare her. “You know this movie is based off a true story?” Dally said, glancing at Y/N as he tried to keep a straight face. “Shut up Dally, Its not!” Y/N nervously chuckled, trying her best not to seem scared even though she was literally hiding halfway under the blankets. “Yeah it was. I heard that the killer in the movie was actually real and that hes still out on the run or something” dallas replied, focusing his eyes back onto the tv where the movie was playing. “Cut your shit. I’m not that dumb to believe your shitty lies” Y/N groaned. She knew dally too well to fall for that. “Well, its not gonna be me who is gonna be out with you, protecting you from him” dallas smirked, knowing that Y/N didn’t believe his bullshit. “Ha, you think i need protection? Especially by you? Youre really funny, dallas” Y/N said, laughing lightly in his face. “Im gonna be the one laughing when your ass gets beat and murdered” dallas muttered quietly under his breath. He purposely said it quietly to tick Y/N off. Y/N glared at dallas. “I can protect myself you dumbass” Y/N said,rolling her eyes. “As if” Dallas added on, laughing as he poked her side to mess with her. Suddenly, Y/N squealed. Her face heated up red with embarrassment. Dallas stared at her with the most shocked but evil grin ever. “You ticklish, Y/N?” Dallas asked playfully. The grin never wiped off his face as he waited for an answer. “..no? Just caught me off guard” Y/N replied back but never looked at Dallas. She was too embarrassed to. “You sure, ma’am?” Dallas asked, not believing her for a second. “Yeah,now watch the movie you dork” Y/N muttered, forcing herself to keep her eyes strictly on the tv screen and nowhere else. “Oh yea? Lets see if youre lying, shall we?” Dallas insisted before creeping his hands behind Y/N’s back slowly. Y/N could already feel the tickly feeling creeping on her sides just from how dallas is taking his sweet ass time. She tried to block her sides with her elbows but she was too late.

Dallas suddenly dug his fingers into her sides, wiggling them all around. Y/N’s soft laughter filled up the room pretty quickly. “Dahahallas!!-” she screamed through her laughter. “Stahahawp it yohohou shithehehead!!” She added on. “Thought you werent ticklish?” Dallas whispered into her ear purposely pushing the air out from his lips harshly so that she could feel the tingly feeling on the side of her neck. That worked so well. It had her squirming her neck to the side, giggling aswell as trying to shove dallas’s hands away from her body. Dallas was too smart for that tho. He moved his hands quickly to different spots so that 1) she couldn’t get used to the feeling of tickling in one spot. 2) so she couldnt smack his hand away at any time. “Awh, does it ti- ti- tickle?” Dallas snickered, moving his hand up to Y/N’s ribs, then to her hips. Her hips made her laugh so uncontrollably. “cuhuhut it ohohout!!” She shrieked. dallas couldnt help himself but continue for another few minutes until Y/N was practically begging to be let go. “Im gohonna get yohohou back..” Y/N giggled out though he probably wasnt too serious about it. “Sure you will” dallas smirked.

[fairlyaltheticquails]

give me some tips to forget you (part one)

ford pines x reader

three times you tried to move on, three times he came back

word count: 1061 words that i didnt proofread, sorry im lazy ;P

angsty but there will be eventual fluff! this is part one of a three-part series. part two and three coming soon!

part one: could it be easy this once?

“I'm leaving next week.”

Four words are all it takes to make your heart fall into your stomach. 

Backupsmore wasn't your first decision, but it also wasn't the worst school you could've landed yourself in you suppose. Ford had yet to say much about where he was going, but you saw the scouts. You saw how he lit up as he approached them, shook their hands, and made all the right moves. You knew he would get into some great school, move away, and follow his dreams that were undoubtedly much larger and more promising than yours. But god, you didn't expect it to hurt like this. You stare straight ahead into the blue ocean waves, hear them crashing into the side of the Stan O War, while Ford shifts beside you. Uncomfortable. He doesn't like the silence from your end of the plank.

What were you supposed to say?

‘Wow, Ford! I’m so thrilled that you are leaving me so soon with virtually no warning, and even though we promised to write letters, I know you'll get busier and busier until the letters stop and I never hear from you again. Oh, and by the way, I love you and it's been suffocating me but I wouldn't forgive myself if I held you back.’

“What day?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*☆ ﾟ. ───

His brown head of hair sat tauntingly close in front of you. Too far to get his attention without yelling (even though you wanted to scream at him until your lungs give out) but too close to pretend it wasn't him. That those weren't his glasses, his smile, his stupid sweater. This was all wrong. He was supposed to have big dreams, the kind the papers write about. The kind that changes the world, even for just a little bit.  You were supposed to get your degree from an okay school, live a quiet life filling the void he left you with, and eventually learn to be happy without him. So how did you end up in the same damn orientation, at the same school, in the same musty, damp-smelling auditorium?

Saying goodbye to him just a few short days ago felt so final. He had said nothing to you about his true plans. You had helped him pack up his few boxes, he let you hug him as tightly as you could, and you had said goodbye to your best friend, thinking it would be the last time you'd ever see him in person, knowing he was moving on to bigger things. Bigger things than Jersey, bigger things than the rotting wooden boat on the beach, bigger things than you. He had lied to you to let you maintain your hope for him. You couldn't tell if you felt betrayed or relieved.

 Everyone stood to leave as the presentation ended, and that is when he turned, meeting your eyes. Frozen in your seat, you had nowhere to hide. You watch as his eyes change from something familiar to something akin to sadness and embarrassment. As moments pass, your mind goes elsewhere. From the days spent working alongside him, to the nights quietly discussing theories and the unknowns of the universe. The way he would crack jokes that nobody but him could understand, his delivery making you laugh anyway. How he never made you feel dumb or insignificant, how he valued what you were interested in just as much as he valued his own. The way the fire that burned your heart when you were near him never died, but you were so ready to let it just so he could go on to be great. How saying goodbye was you finally stomping out the flames, just for him to show back up with gasoline.

 You feel like it's been several years before he breaks eye contact and you finally have the strength to stand from your seat. His head disappears into the crowd exiting the room. You crane your head to try and catch another glimpse of the brown curls you know so well. It's in vain, there are simply too many people, and it's too dark in the room to discern him. You rush out of your aisle to catch up, shouldering and squeezing past, until you finally break through the crowd and out the door.  You turn and look amongst the dispersing students, but nothing. You were about to turn when you hit something solid. 

“I am so sor…” You start, and there he is. He wrings his hands nervously, looking everywhere but your face. You go to open your mouth, unsure of what to even say to him.

“Just listen. Please.” He ushers out before you can interrupt. He tests to see if you will do what he asks, waiting in silence for a few moments, before sighing. You watch as he untangles his fingers and his arm lifts,  going to hold the back of his neck instead. “I didn't get in. Something happened, and I didn't get in. I didn't know how to tell you, and to be honest, I didn't know what you would think.I’m sorry, I should have told you instead of leading you on in my deception. I was hoping to find a more appropriate time to find you, but I suppose there is no time like the present, right? Heh...” he trails off with nervous laughter, only egged on by your pointed silence. 

The urge to be pissed off is strong. But, the sadness you've felt since he left sits heavy in your chest. The nerves left from wondering when or if you will ever see your best friend again for the past several days finally fizzle out as he stands before you. His eyes grow more and more anxious as you still have yet to respond to his pleas. Your resolve diminishes.

You take a quick step forward, locking your arms firmly around him. He is slow to reciprocate but he eventually comes out of his shock to hug you back properly. His fingers gently squeeze your shoulder and you relish in the feeling. The moments you spend in each other's embrace stretch on, until you pull away slightly to look him in the face. 

“If you ever lie to my face like that again Stanford Filbrick Pines, I will never forgive you.”

“I believe it.”

[what-gs-watching]

"Why is no one having a good time? I specifically requested it."

Here’s a thing: my husband used to watch a ton of tv, all the time. Always had something on in the background. But then he got sucked into TikTok and his attention span broke, so I’ve been watching most things myself.

He just put together a snack to wind down from his work day, and came back in for a glass of milk. I’m on the couch and as he swished by he said “I just turned on Brooklyn Nine-Nine”, which in and of itself was surprising, only to continue “and remembered he’s dead…” and I let out a wail I’ve been mostly ignoring. 

Andre Braugher, I’m so sad that you’re gone. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is one of my absolute favorite comfort shows, and I’m not sure how I’m going to stand it now, for a while. Captain Holt is iconic, you can’t watch that show and not fall in love with him. 

And now it’s just…sad.

Nine-Nine is another one of those shows I started watching religiously while it was airing on cable, the entirety of the reason being Andy mother-effing Samberg. I have been in love with him (and the Lonely Island, which we should talk about eventually) since that crazy man joined SNL and so nothing was going to tear me away from his randon sitcom. I came for him, obviously, but I stayed for everyone else.

Including, and mostly, Captain Raymond Holt. 

I’m not gonna lie, he might be the most realized, well-defined character on the show. The man has layers. Gay, black cop who finally becomes captain of his own squad. Deadly serious, married to a professor, proud dog dad, lover of rules, hard grudge-holder, extremely literal and blunt, with the weirdest sense of humor. 

Most of the best moments of this show involve Holt. There’s an entire scene wherein the squad is put on the night shift and it’s fucking with everyone’s relationships and someone suggests his bad mood is because he needs to  bone down with his husband. His reaction has me crying every single time.

He has a dance-off with a kid on the street. He goes undercover as a straight person and does it hilariously. He gets incredibly, heavily, disturbingly invested in the Halloween heist game Jake sets up each year. He creates a ridiculous balloon arch for a wedding and gets deeply attached to it, and is infuriated by the fact that everyone thinks it’s weird as hell. He has the most fantastic arch rival relationship with an old partner, to the point where he plans to deliver a scathing eulogy when she unexpectedly dies. He learns the choreography set to Salt ‘N Peppa’s “Push It” and performs it to distract Amy while she’s giving birth. 

It feels like a lot of characters on tv are two-dimensional, but good lord, Holt was in full technicolor, and it’s obvious the reason it works so well is because Andre Braugher was a master of his craft. He WAS Holt, for a lot of people, including me. No one else could have stepped in and created that man. 

Throughout the show, Jake treated him like a surrogate dad because his own father (lol at Bradley Whitford in that role) was a dumpster fire, and it was really sweet. He just wanted validation, and acceptance.

In the finale, he tells Jake, "On my first day here, I asked Jeffords to tell me about everyone, He told me you were a great detective, but the one thing you couldn’t figure out was how to grow up. Well, I think you’ve finally figured it out. Over the years, you’ve sometimes referred to me as something of a father figure, but I want you to know, if I had had a son, and he had turned out like you, I would be very proud of him.”

I have a dad of my own, he’s wonderful and I love him and we have a great relationship, but y’all, Holt can be a surrogate dad for me too. He can be one for everyone. He always had a pearl of wisdom and he supported the entire squad in absolutely everything, and he was just an excellent human. Who was FUNNY and multidimensional and just…dope. 

He’s one of those perfect characters. And they don’t come along that often. So I guess the point is, thank you, Andre Braugher, for bringing him to life, and giving us the gift that is Captain Raymond Holt. I’m glad we still have him, even if we don’t have you.

[wheel-within-a-wheel]

here's a song i made. it took me a couple years

lyrics under the cut

It's been a long million years We've outlived all of our fears Everything wrong Completely gone Left us alone With happiness calling

Hold my hand so tight it hurts Kiss me everywhere it burns All things to fear All things severe All monsters near All thoughts i'm ignoring

Can't speak for you but I feel myself The truest me is someone else Watch out for loose wires Mind the gap Kill all your demons Take a nap

Hey! The Moon's falling down from the sky not even science knows why What went astray? Just yesterday I heard her say she thinks that we're lovely

Hard to believe in this news Never thought that's what she'd choose She never would If she still thought there's good in the people below her she'd stay above, see,

Maybe she felt her hours were wrong Four billion years seems way too long This far below would we even see if somethings wrong in eternity

(Not much hair and not much butter Not much air and too much clutter Not much rhyme and not much rhythm time turns palace into prison)

For somebody today is The happiest day ever lived It could be you If you want it to Say that it's true And you will be gifted

Used cars for sale going cheap Busiest salesman you'll meet You already hold Every product he's sold And when your body's cold He'll sell a new meat Don't care what they say Something is right always Nothing is broken Nothing is left unspoken

Don't care what they say Something is right always Nothing is broken Nothing is left unspoken

(Some here among us want to cry Some here among us want to die Some have been here so long they don't Remember much but this bad joke)

This is the most desperate part you've lost your mind, keep your heart In your top draw Like you've done before Nest it in straw And tell it you'll be back soon

New Moon That was the night I knew that Our souls Were two halves of one whole, the Whole world It seemed to fall away Never Came back after that day

New Moon That was the night I knew that Our souls Were two halves of one whole, the Whole world It seemed to fall away Never Came back after that day

(Up jumps the flag man, standing tall shouts out his slogan over all No one can hear, but he won't care Head in the sky, too high for air) New Moon That was the night I knew that Our souls Were two halves of one whole, the Whole world It seemed to fall away Never Came back after that day

(Some here among us want to cry Some here among us want to die Been here so long I can't recall How to feel anything at all)

(Don't care what they say Something is wrong always Something is broken Something we leave unspoken)

Leaning in close, tell me more Let's skip straight to the encore Things to fear… Things severe… Monsters near…

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 15

Chapter 15 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, everyone’s life seems to be going in the wrong direction as Vecna rolls into town as they all seem to distance themselves from one another. Meanwhile, Robin has developed a crush on a certain cheerleader and it isn’t Steve.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: internalized homophobia, homophobia mention, f-slur, bullying mention, HIV/AIDS crisis mention, racism mention, eating disorder mention

~~~~~~~

Chapter 15: The Arrival of Vecna

After new years, Steve feels like his life has been spiraling further and further out of control. Yet he cannot do anything, but stay. He can only watch and cling on as the roller coaster continues in a way that seems safe enough, but also like it can fall apart at any moment.

It’s just been a compilation of things, honestly. It feels like his fight with Eddie was a turning point and now, in a horrible domino effect, it is all getting worse from there.

Insecurity has been creeping up on him with the words of his father in that stupid clothing boutique and the fight with Eddie that came afterwards. Eddie, who is still ignoring him. Neither of them have said a word to the other since then.

He still feels conflicted about it. He hates what he did to Eddie and he wants to tell him how he didn’t mean it, but Eddie has taken to staying behind and sending the kids ahead, so he won’t have to see Steve’s face.

Steve has stopped getting out of the car. Just watches the school entrance in case he catches a flash of curly hair that he adores so much. His heart aches to make it right, to have dimples and chocolate eyes back in his life. Another part of him thinks it might be easier to be rejected, left in the dust. To be hurt, so he can get over it. To find love elsewhere.

Chrissy fake breaks up with him two weeks into the new year. Ever since then, he has been throwing himself at every girl that has come into Family Video in an attempt to cover up for all the emotions he’s feeling, but can’t put into words.

A few girls have actually taken him up on his offer and Steve has gone through with it, because he doesn’t think a straight boy in his position would refuse. It hasn’t been the most comfortable, but nothing he hasn’t done before and it’s just a task to get through.

Chrissy and Robin both have expressed concern about his behavior, but Steve will not listen to them.

The two have been hanging out quite a bit, since they’re stuck in school together and Steve is glad they’re getting along, but it’s annoying that they now team up together. It can be quite funny when they’re just ribbing each other, but more recently they’re being concerned together, which makes Steve want to walk into the forest never to be seen again. He doesn’t know why.

Right now is such a moment, where he can feel their eyes on his back as he leads a girl through the store, putting on his charm.

Steve is pretty sure she has a boyfriend, so hopefully this won’t end in another disastrous date. And for now he tries to feel validated by how she giggles and twirls her hair. No one will question him if he goes on like this. Next time, there will be more evidence needed than a few slurs, a picture in the year book, or the fact he isn’t married yet. Next time, he’ll be safer.

It’s for the best, so he ignores the stares of Chrissy and Robin as he flirts with the girl, whose name he does not know, pretending to be disappointed but understanding when she tells him about her boyfriend.

He rings her up, having to bump Robin out of the way, before watching her go with smile in place that he drops with a sigh once she’s out the door. Robin takes the moment to pipe up: “You don’t have to keep doing that, you know that, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grits, playing dumb, because he isn’t in the mood for a lecture. He already feels uncomfortable enough in his own skin.

“We’re just worried, Stevie,” Chrissy says with those big eyes of her that Steve has always been a little weak for and she knows it.

Steve sends her a glare and scowls: “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dingus,” Robin huffs, a little annoyed by how he’s avoiding the topic. It hasn’t become a thing yet, Steve could never not show up when she needs him or vise versa, but he knows how much she hates that he’s shutting her out.

And he does feel guilty about it. Her remembers how she once confessed to him how everyone always seems to leave her behind. In the darkness of the night, Steve had promised he never would, but now he’s pushing her away.

The guilt eats at him and he doesn’t want to do a repeat of his behavior of when he fought with Eddie. He doesn’t want to fuck up like that again. So, he takes a deep breath and pleads: “I know, okay, I know. Please, just- just drop it, okay?”

It is the closest he has come to acknowledging it and Chrissy and Robin both share a look before looking back. Robin reacts first, she takes his hand and gives him a crooked smile: “Alright, dingus, okay.”

“We’re here if you want to talk,” Chrissy offers, also smiling.

Steve does not know what he did to deserve friends like this, but he feels incredibly fortunate. He smiles back and softly says: “Thanks.”

He wants to move on from the topic now, but he doesn’t know how. Luckily, Robin can practically read his mind, so she turns to Chrissy and says: “Hey, Chris, how is cheer going? Band is already practicing for the prep rally, you guys too?”

Chrissy lights up and excitedly starts talking about the new routine they’ve been working on. On another day, Steve would immediately get sucked into the topic, however, today he takes a second to recover before going to dive in.

Because he’s taking that moment, he suddenly notices how Robin is looking at Chrissy. Chrissy is smiling brightly as she talks about cheer and Robin is watching her, only following along, because she’s friends with two cheerleaders, thus has learned too much through osmosis, partially against her will. However, she doesn’t seem to mind, she’s smiling along, a little blush covering her freckles, as she stares at Chrissy.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Robin has a crush on Chrissy. It just hits him as he watches her. He hasn’t heard her about Vickie for a while, but he hadn’t realized that was because she likes someone else. Because she likes Chrissy.

He isn’t subtle about his realization either. Well, he is, but not for Robin. He is still holding her hand and squeezes it in surprise when he notices, looking between the two.

She looks at him when he squeezes and sees him glancing between them. Her eyes grow wide and he can see in her eyes that if he even thinks about uttering about saying anything while Chrissy is still in a 1 mile radius of Family Video, she is going to murder him.

Steve knows the feeling, so he quickly nods to let her know he gets it, before jumping into cheer, so that Chrissy won’t notice the hiccup.

Of course he had noticed the two getting closer and retrospectively the first time Robin saw Chrissy was pretty gay with how she spluttered and was rendered quite speechless, but he never really thought about it like that. A part of him still can’t fully fathom that anyone would be attracted to either of them, even if they are objectively attractive.

However, he manages to keep being normal until Chrissy has to go home. She hugs Steve first and he squeezes her back, before he watches her hug Robin, who seemingly explodes. He hadn’t know she could blush like that and has to bite his lip not giggle at her.

Though Steve has to admit, Robin is not the worst, not like he’s seen her with other girls she has liked. She isn’t tripping over herself rambling, instead just does an awkward smile and doesn’t really hug back, as she splutters a goodbye.

They both wave as Chrissy leaves and Steve drops it the moment, she gets into the car and he turns to Robin. Robin, who is blushing and not meeting his eyes. A shit eating grin creeps up on his face and he leans against the counter next to Robin as he drawls: “So… Chrissy.”

“Oh shut up,” she squeaks, pushing him away without looking.

Steve pouts and comes right back into her space and whines: “Oh come on, you bullied me about Eddie, I told you everything. You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

Now Robin looks at him and she doesn’t look like Robin at all. Steve stops and looks at her, frowning as he takes in how she is hunched over, bites her lip anxiously, plays with her fingers, loosing the liveliness he loves about her. Gently he asks: “Hey, you okay?”

“You’re not mad about my crush on Chrissy?” she asks in a small voice that he hates on her. He likes how she cackles and rambles, not this.

“Of course I’m not mad,” he tells her. “Why would I be mad that you like her? She is super nice and a cool girl. Was inevitable, honestly.”

“It was not,” Robin scoffs, before she asks: “Isn’t it, like, against bro code to like someone’s friend?”

“Robin, you are also Chrissy’s friend,” Steve points out.

She has the audacity to look surprised by that statement and to then ask: “I am?”

“Yeah, Robs, you are,” Steve says, unsure how she can’t know that. “You two are always hanging out together, you eat lunch together. She asks me how you’ve been when you have to work while we hang out, because I’ve seen you last.”

“Oh, I thought she only did that to me, because you’re friends and I’m just also always there,” Robin says, scratching the back of her head.

“Gods, I love you, but you’re also an idiot,” Steve informs her.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Robin pouts, but she is also grinning, which is a win.

“You can be offended later, tell me about your crush now,” Steve demands. “You finally developed taste, I have to know more.”

“Screw you, dingus,” Robin exclaims as she pushes him.

Steve wrinkles his nose and replies: “I’d rather you not.”

“Iewww,” Robin shudders, but she’s laughing too. Both of them taking a moment to giggle, before Robin sighs wistfully and says: “She’s just so pretty.” Then Robin groans and boinks her head on the counter. “And painfully straight. I listened to her talk about Tom Cruise for like an hour yesterday. The worst thing? I didn’t even mind, because she looks cute when she’s excited.”

Steve graciously suppresses the urge to laugh at her and just pats her back in a sympathetic manner, because he knows how much that sucks. “You’re gonna be okay, Robs. It sucks to have a crush on a straight person.”

“How would you know?” she asks, coming up from where she has buried her head in her arms to glare at him. “Eddie has taken to parading around with a hanky in his pocket, like I won’t know what that means. You had a chance.”

Had a chance, Steve repeats to himself, feeling a little stab. He could have if he hadn’t been so scared and such a dick. But Robin is lamenting her own crush, so he’s not going to be sad about his love life, especially because that will be an invitation to talk to him about how he’s flirting with girls everywhere and Steve knows what Robin is doing. She hopes he’ll bite and won’t ask more about her new crush that she has been trying to hide.

So, instead he doesn’t bite and just says: “I’ve had crushes on other people, you know. And I didn’t have a chance with them.”

“Who?” Robin demands, now fully dropping the gloom, much to Steve’s relief, he hates seeing her sad.

“Jonathan,” he admits, wanting to jump into a ditch and hide the moment he does.

“What?” Robin exclaims with glee in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that, dingus. That is important to know. You had a crush on the guy that stole your girlfriend.”

“I mean, we fought and it kind of made me realize some things,” Steve shrugs in embarrassment.

“You had a crush on him because he beat you up?” Robin asks, eyes nearly falling out of her sockets as she interrogates him.

“No,” Steve scowls, crossing his arms. “And we were talking about your hopeless crush, remember?”

“We can do that later, I have to hear this,” Robin waves his protest aside. “If not because he beat you up, then why?”

“He just made me realize I didn’t want to keep being King Steve when he beat me up,” Steve explains. “And then when I went to apologize we had to run from the demogorgon and he grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety. And I realized I liked that a little more than I should.”

“Oh my god, that is the best thing I have ever heard,” Robin squeals.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Steve replies, hands over his ears.

“No, come on, this is great,” Robin grins. “I’m never going to let you forget that you had a crush on Jonathan because he held you hand.”

“Fuck off, I also held your hand, didn’t get a crush on you,” Steve pouts.

“Not really the right demographic, now am I?” Robin counters. “Unlike what you want to make everyone think. What happened there? Are you okay?”

“No, we’re not turning it around on me,” Steve snaps. “I meant it. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just talk about your crush and let me forget about it, okay? Please.”

Something in his voice must tell her how serious he is, because she nods seriously, despite obviously not wanting to and collapses back over the counter, lamenting about Chrissy in her cheer uniform and her soft cheeks and adorable giggle.

Despite having been friends with Chrissy for about a year now, Robin mentions things that Steve has never consciously registered about her. It’s odd but interesting to look at his friend through different eyes. Like, he never really noticed Chrissy had dimples, but when he thinks about it, she totally does.

It’s actually really cute how much Robin likes Chrissy, but Steve is also scared for her. He knows Chrissy is cool about the gay thing, though that might not translate to lesbians, since Robin hasn’t come out yet. However, that does not mean, she won’t break Robin’s heart.

Steve cares about both of them very much, but he will probably choose Robin, if this crush blows up in their faces. He might not have known Robin the longest, but they’ve been through so much together. You don’t just forget about that. And, despite how he is partially ignoring it, Robin is also queer, he will always support her and understand her struggles. Even if that means loosing Chrissy in the process.

Fuck, he just hopes Chrissy is at least cool about it, or that Robin’s crush blows over before something can happen.

Over the following weeks, it seems like life hates him more and more, as it continues to get worse and worse. It’s nothing big, but life seems to get lonelier.

Robin, of course, still fills his every moment when she can, but she still has school and finals are coming up as well. So, he sees her primarily when driving her to school, or at work, or when they’re both failing to fall asleep.

Mike has never liked him, so his lessening in appearance doesn’t come as a surprise. While Dustin still comes by, but less often than he used to, swept up into Hellfire club, robotics team and the never ending homework of high school. Meanwhile, Lucas has made varsity team, so he is also busy. Steve is so proud of him, but he just hopes that the basketball team doesn’t chew him up and spit him out while Steve can’t look out for him.

Lucas and Max have also broken up, so he doesn’t hang out with Lucas at the trailer park anymore either. He still has gone by to check on her, but she isn’t around or doesn’t open the door. Whenever he is there, he can feel Eddie’s trailer judging him from behind. So, he stopped.

However, he still trains with Lucas from time to time, teaching him things about basketball that he still remembers from when he was star player on the team. Like today, just the two of them shooting hoops on the Sinclair’s driveway.

It’s Wednesday and Chrissy canceled on Steve. She has been doing that more often and Steve doesn’t know what to do about it. Whenever they do hang out, she is still herself and Robin doesn’t note much out of the ordinary if the amount of times she waxes poetry about Chrissy’s smile is anything to go off.

For now, he tries to put it out of his mind and focus on Lucas. He yells: “Don’t dribble too hard, just above the knee. Stay in control.”

Lucas switches up his dribble slightly and Steve immediately has a harder time taking the ball from him. He can see in Lucas’ grin that he notices it too. They twirl around each other for a little longer, before Lucas can make a shot.

Both of them turn to watch as the ball arcs through the air, before bouncing on the rim once, twice, before falling next to it and rolling away with a slight bounce. Steve grimaces and forces a cheer in his voice as he says: “You’ll get it next time.”

He goes to get the ball, leaving Lucas a second the wallow in private, before turning back. In that time, Lucas has slumped on the steps of the house in a way that suggest that he isn’t getting up again. He seems done for the day, but the defeated pose doesn’t sit right with Steve.

So, he sits down next to Lucas and lets the quiet hang over them for a second. Then he asks: “You doing okay?”

The boy next to him sighs in a way that makes him seem way older than he should be. He shrugs, then pauses, before shaking his head. “Not really, no.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve offers. He might not be the best at comforting, but he at least knows what Lucas has been through, what he has seen. Sometimes it’s enough to be understood.

“Max has been distant lately,” Lucas says. “She barely talks to us in the hallways of school and we never see her anywhere else. It’s like she’s a ghost sometimes. I don’t know what’s happening. She seemed fine a few weeks ago.”

Steve has noticed the same thing, but he doesn’t want to worry Lucas more when it’s obviously eating at him. So he takes a moment to think. Then he replies: “Max is a tough cookie. She just needs a little bit. Billy’s birthday is coming up, I’m sure that must mess with her a little. She’ll reach out again when she’s ready.”

“You really think so?” Lucas asks, finally looking up from where he’d hung his head. It’s a little like he’s perking up with the glimmer of hope.

In all honesty, Steve isn’t sure. He likes to think she will, but he could be wrong. However, he doesn’t want to rip away the hope he has given Lucas, so he just smiles: “Yeah, I do.”

Lucas smiles back and Steve feels a little guilty, but also glad to see him smile like that. Lucas has already been through much, much more than he should. He wants Lucas to be happy. He still remembers how terrified he looked as Billy had him pinned. It still appears in his nightmares, the what if he hadn’t been on time plaguing him.

So, he pushes away the guilt and moves the topic to something more fun. “You’re becoming really good at avoiding my blocks. A little more and I won’t stand a chance against you.”

“Thanks,” Lucas huffs with a small laugh. “Now if only coach saw that and I could be on the court next game instead of being a bench warmer.”

“Don’t be to hard on yourself, man,” Steve tells him. “You already made varsity in your freshman year, that’s huge. Most don’t make it until the second semester sophomore and then they’re still bench warmers, because coach wants to give the older players scouting chances. Trust me, next year you’re going to be star player.”

“You think so?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah, I do,” Steve says, this time not lying. Lucas is a talent. He adds as a joke: “I might not have been on the team in a while, but I still remember Jason’s try outs for varsity when I was star player in junior year. All his talk is a recent development.”

Lucas is smiling at the start of the sentence, but as he goes on, he sees something dim in how he holds himself. Steve doesn’t think he said anything to get that reaction and frowns: “Hey, where is your mind going off to?”

“The team,” Lucas says, sounding a little hesitant.

Steve still remembers what dicks the team used to be, both when he was on it and when he got bullied away. His heart stops beating as a fear seizes him. “Are they being assholes to you?” he asks immediately. “Because I still have the nail bat and I can have a talk with them.”

“No, no, not that,” Lucas quickly says, which is good to hear, but there is something in his tone that makes Steve suspicious.

“But…” he prompts when Lucas keeps his lips together as if he is keeping something in.

Lucas looks away and rubs the back of his head. He lets out a deep breath, hyping himself up, before looking back at Steve and admitting: “They’re just saying really messed up things about you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh,” Steve says out loud, he didn’t expect that. Well, he did. He had just hoped the shine would have worn off by the time the kids got Hawkins High, but apparently it’s still bad enough that it got to Lucas. Though Chrissy mentioned how Jason seemingly still has it out for him ever since she rejected him for Steve.

A flash of embarrassment goes through him as he imagines what the others on the basketball team might have said about him. He is well aware of what rumors those boys spread. About how he’s a fag, and a whore fag at that. That he’ll get on his knees for anyone willing to give him the time of day. That he was a filthy queer that stared in the locker rooms. That he was a pussy that hid behind a group of girls. How easily he goes down after a punch. How easily he takes it.

He has heard it all when he still walked those halls. He learned to ignore it and he learned to lie about it to the kids, because he didn’t want them to ever hear that about him. To have the image he held with them be tainted. But they had.

At least Lucas had, because if Max had heard Billy didn’t keep his promise, she would have been upset with Steve and come to him. And Dustin obviously wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut about it.

Fuck, Lucas knows those rumors.

Lucas has heard how Steve might be gay, something he has kept away from all the kids except Will, because Will needed to know it. And now he is still in that limbo, where he knows it about himself, but is working so hard to keep others from seeing.

What if Lucas is looking closer? What if he has guessed? What if all of them know? What if they’re all disgusted by it and that’s why they’ve gotten too busy to hang around Steve anymore?

He doesn’t know what Lucas sees in his face, but he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. Yet, he tries to comfort Steve with: “It’s not too bad.”

An involuntary laugh escapes Steve at the placating lie, the disbelief obvious. There is no way it’s not still terrible, but the fact that Lucas is trying to comfort him, eases his nerves a bit.

“Okay, so it is quite bad,” Lucas winces, wringing his hands. “Why didn’t you ever tell us what was happening at school?”

Steve scoffs, can’t help the reaction, and says: “Lucas, I would never drop my shit on a bunch of kids. You all had enough to deal with. I was doing fine anyway. It wasn’t that bad.”

“They’re calling you all sorts of slurs and saying that you’re going to die of AIDS, how is that okay, Steve?” Lucas exclaims, startling Steve with the volume of the outburst.

“Well, it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter,” Steve snaps back.

He doesn’t want to think about how he knows exactly what slurs Lucas is talking about, how they have always clung to him, adding weight to all that drags him down, because he knows they’re true, how he’s been scared shitless of AIDS ever since he last saw his father, even though he has been extra safe when he does fuck, and how those are girls, which make him uncomfortable, a thing he also doesn’t want to think about.

Lucas reels back again by how forcefully Steve says them and Steve internally cringes at how that probably doesn’t help his point, though he keeps a poker face despite it.

He studies Steve for a second and Steve practically holds his breath as he keeps it up, he hopes that Lucas will drop it. He doesn’t, instead, Lucas gets a little quieter. He looks at the ground, then glances back up at Steve and softly says: “But it still hurts, doesn’t it?”

The comment goes deeper than this conversation. It is a cry for recognition. A plea to be heard. To be seen in a pain. A pain that Lucas thinks they might share.

Steve might not be the smartest, but he’s also not an idiot. He knows why Billy went after Lucas but not Dustin for hanging around his sister, knows that fag isn’t the only slur the basketball team throws around, knows that Lucas will hear that too, even if they don’t target him directly and how that can still hurt.

And while he doesn’t want to say anything that might be suspicious, Lucas is one of his kids and he needs to not be alone right now, so he matches Lucas’ quiet tone and admits: “Yeah, it does hurt, a lot. And it fucking sucks.”

Lucas looks relieved by the admission, though an air of sadness still hangs around them. Neither of them can fully know what the other is going through, but for a moment they aren’t alone in their misery and sometimes that can be enough. Lucas huffs out a small laugh and agreed: “It does fucking suck.”

“Don’t tell your mom I used that word,” Steve jokingly threatens. He is glad he was able to help Lucas feel better, but he needs this conversation to be over now. To not have Lucas go poking further than this.

“I won’t,” Lucas laughs. “Besides, she’s heard worse from Dustin.”

“Dustin got some of that from me, I have to be honest there,” Steve comments with a grin, making Lucas laugh more.

Steve wants to move on to other things, however, something is still gnawing on him. He is not there to protect these kids and he cares so much about them, so he needs to be assured that Lucas will be okay on his own in the basketball team. “The others aren’t targeting you, right?”

“No,” Lucas assures him. “Patrick has taken me under his wing a bit, which is nice. He’s also black and good friends with Jason, so they mostly leave us be.” He’s quiet for a second, then adds: “It’s some of the other kids that get targeted. I never really do anything and I feel like I’m the worst because of it.”

“Don’t,” Steve immediately says and Lucas looks surprised, as if he expected Steve to say something different. After all the times Steve threw himself between them and danger that is pretty valid, but that is so much different than this. That isn’t a permanent slight in the eyes of the town, Steve knows how that feels. It is very much not the same.

“Don’t?” Lucas repeats with a confused frown.

“It’s not worth it, trust me,” Steve tells him. “The next time they rag on a poor kid, who also doesn’t deserve it or talk shit about me, you stay quiet, you hear me? You keep your mouth shut. Me and some random kid, aren’t worth being an outcast over. I know it sucks, but it’s how to survive high school. Promise me?”

“Okay, yeah, I promise,” Lucas says, unsettled by the intensity.

Steve isn’t under the illusion that he is the first to say this to Lucas. His parents must be worried sick about him as well, but Lucas might be more willing to listen to Steve than his uncool parents, especially since Steve has a hero status in Lucas’ mind. So, he says it anyway.

“Good, just keep your head down and stick to Patrick,” Steve nods. “Patrick cool?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says with a small smile. “He’s a little withdrawn, but he has this sick fade away long shot that he’s been teaching me.”

“Sounds great. Show me?” Steve asks, getting up and holding the ball out to Lucas. It’s a way to get out of their heads again, away from the heavy conversation, something Steve thinks they both need right now.

Fortunately, Lucas takes the ball with a grin, both of them getting back in position, so that Lucas can show off the shot. It’s a fun way to forget about all the bad and Steve sees himself in Lucas, how he used sports to get out of his head for a bit. That afternoon, he vows to go to all of his games, even if he’s on the bench every time.

Over the following weeks, Steve is there at all Lucas’ games as the team slowly climbs their way up through the championships. Steve has to admit they’re good, they might stand a chance at winning this year.

Meanwhile, life goes on in other places as well, in its own rickety way.

Chrissy cancels more and more, it’s been weeks since they stunted together, even if they finally got their handstand stunt. Steve misses it more than he wants to admits. Misses Chrissy even more, only glimpsing at her during Lucas’ games, her smiles looking fake and her cheer uniform loose.

Steve worries about her, but knows it isn’t his place to talk about her struggles with Robin. So, he just gives Robin a little too many snacks and hopes she knows how to share. However, Chrissy is no longer sitting with Robin during lunch, another worrying development that has other consequences as well.

“She totally knows!” Case in point. Robin is hanging over the counter, looking defeated. She has been the only person not falling apart around Steve and he needs her to be okay. He hates to see her sad like this. Especially when he can’t fix it.

“How would she know?” he counters, knowing it’s not enough, but having to try anyway.

Robin glares at him, before throwing her hands about: “I don’t know, dingus. Maybe I stared at her too long or said something embarrassing and weird, because I keep on humiliating myself around her and she caught on and now she hates me.”

“Chrissy doesn’t hate you,” Steve insists. He is 99% sure of that, despite the lack of contact between them now. There is something else going on with her, he just doesn’t know what and that bothers him to all hell.

“Did she tell you that?” Robin counters.

“You know she didn’t,” Steve glares at her, before taking a deep calming breath. They both have been on edge and the last thing he wants to do, is snap at her and have yet another friendship fall apart.

Robin is observing him and when he looks at her again, normally this time, she says: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s okay,” he sighs. “It’s not like you’re in control of her pulling away.”

“And what if I am? What if I’m right and she did notice my crush on her and now she’s disgusted and pulling away? What then?” Robin rambles anxiously.

“Then she’s a dick and we don’t want to be friends with her,” Steve states, because that is obvious in his brain. “But that’s not the reason, she’s too nice for that.”

“You sure?” Robin asks.

“I’m sure,” Steve confirms.

They’re both quiet for a second, then Robin speaks up, her voice an odd mix of disbelief, awe and skepticism, as she asks: “You would really drop her if she wasn’t okay with my crush?”

It’s an echo of when Steve figured her out, when she was unsure if Steve would be okay with it and it still amazes him that she doesn’t know that he would do anything for her. “Yeah, I would. Of course, I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Robin shrugs, not meeting his eyes. “You two have been friends longer than we have. I wouldn't hold it against you.”

“Robs, 1) if she is homophobic, I don’t want to be friends with her and 2) you’re my platonic soulmate, I’m always going to put you first,” he says, putting as much intent and genuineness in his voice as he can in the hope she’ll believe him.

“Platonic soulmates, eh?” she grins, not fully acknowledging it, but tentatively daring to believe by not countering it or questioning him.

“With a capital P,” Steve grins back. “You’re stuck with me now, Buckley.”

“I’m holding you to that, Stevie,” she replies, knowing he doesn’t like his last name.

The next day are the championships. Steve is in Family Video alone, waiting until he can go clock out and get the girl he’s bringing for show. He’s a little self aware around the basketball team since his talk with Lucas, so it will be good to be seen with a girl on his arm.

He’s bored out of his mind, so glad when the phone rings. He picks up: “You’ve reached Family Video, this is Steve. How-”

“Yeah, Steve,” Dustin cuts of his standard greeting. “I need you to play DnD with me and the rest of Hellfire tonight.”

“What? Why?” Steve replies, unsure why they would be playing tonight.

“Because it’s the ending of the campaign and we need someone else,” Dustin says. “Eddie is on our ass to find someone, please.”

At the mention of Eddie’s name, a shiver goes through his body. He cannot face Eddie. Not like that. The need to hide away comes over him and he throws out: “No, I can’t, I have a date.”

“Just move your date this one time,” Dustin demands. “Come on.”

Usually Steve is a pushover and would easily bend to that demand, but he can’t. Lucas is playing tonight, it’s the championship. And it’s Eddie. Eddie, who hates him. Eddie, who makes him feel things. And he just can’t.

His brain goes to a patented method and a little meanly he says: “What? To hang out with you and Eddie “The Freak” Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass.”

The moment he says it, he hates himself. He vowed not to do this anymore and now he is. Fuck, why is he like that?

Dustin doesn’t notice, luckily, and just says: “You’re just jealous because I have another older male friend.”

And a part of Steve is jealous. Jealous that Dustin gets to hang out with Eddie without feeling like he wants to explode, either from horniness, fear or embarrassing mushy feelings. Feelings that also make him want to hide away.

He knows he has them, that they won’t go away, but every time he thinks he can accept that, another voice speaks up and crushes it. It’s a constant battle and at this point, he isn’t even sure what team he’s on.

But he doesn’t tell Dustin that, instead he says: “Iew. Ugh. Whatever,” before making up some story about really digging this girl, whose name he has already forgotten, before pretending a customer comes in, so he can hang up on Dustin.

It’s not until, he’s getting ready to go for the game, that he is centered enough to realize that Dustin was looking for a replacement for Lucas. That Eddie isn’t postponing the session so Lucas can be there and make the championship.

If they were still friends, he would’ve said something about it to Eddie. Then he realizes that this might be Eddie outing his anger at Steve and all his jockiness that he showed Eddie when he stomped all over him. And he feels a little sicks with it.

Fuck, hopefully spring break will be what they all need to get off this roller coaster again. A little bit of a break away from it all will be good for them.

~~

A/N:

Robin being surprised that Steve wants to be her friend, that she is also friends with Chrissy, that they want her around, it’s breaking my heart </3

Also Lucas deserves so much more and the Duffers keep doing him dirty, I’m so mad about that actually >:(

(Disclaimer: I am white and probably not the best to write about this, but it wanted to note the fact that Lucas is dealing with other shit too in there as well. Hopefully that came across okay and if I said anything offensive, please let me know)