#people are like 'shes two hours away from being 18 how is that fair??' AND WHAT ABOUT IT LET HER TORNADO KICK THAT 14 YEAR OLD ITS LEGAL

[blusandbirds]

i think miguel or robby or tory should get to win the sekai taikai but then to fulfull eli and sam's little line about "maybe next time both of us will win" they should give sam a summer birthday and canonize eli's 6/9 (nice) birthday so they're still under 18 for the all valley in may, thus allowing them to steadily crush the competition while devon and kenny stand there like damnit, next year i guess

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | four

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: after a conference in new york, you and j miller phd take things a step further. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, i think i describe reader as having sweaty palms about 1500 times so it deserves a warning, alcohol consumption, the plight of being a woman in academia, oral [f receiving], unprotected piv sex [IN A BED ??? GASP] for you filthy animals, prone bone, a little roughness and then not much at all, uhhh pet names during sex.... uhhmm intimacy errrrrr.... soft!joel... feelings... okay bye word count: 9.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: hey folks, thank you so much for all your patience as i took my sweet sweet time writing this. we get to know our prof a little better in this one so a fair amount of dialogue for you but yeah anyways i hope you enjoy it, and i'd love to hear what you think! [and if i Fell Off because of the depression, don't tell me lol] A WORD ABOUT THE TAG LIST: i will continue the taglist for this part and for part five, and after that i will rely solely on my notifications account @hier--soirupdates so pls follow that and turn on notifs to be told when i post writing x this is part four of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three.

Saturday.

The conference centre is vast.

A large space that protects you from the threatening clouds that loom over New York City, and exposes you to countless dense conversations.

An NYU teacher’s assistant is glued to your hip, parading you through the centre with a wayward index finger that points out the bar, the room where the keynote speech will be given [large, with an imposing stage], and the room where you will give your presentation [less large, with a far less imposing stage].

Your presentation.  

You fight the urge to pull up the email for the thousandth time while she explains how there will be fifteen minutes to set up beforehand, and advises on when the doors will open for guests, and reminds you that you have a strict allotted time of 20-minutes, do you understand?

But the email is branded on the inside of your eyelids after this morning’s flight was spent reading and rereading and rereading the words. So you nod and smile and placate her on the tour of the centre, as you run through it in your mind.

We look forward to welcoming you to NYU’s Annual Classics and Ancient History Conference. Our team was intrigued by the presentation devised around your translation study in Athens…

“Did you hear me?”

You wish she wasn’t dressed so casually.

Loose balls of lint are collected on the back of her cardigan like trinkets, weighty and threatening to fall off in a sort of bread crumb trail behind her every movement. It makes your dress feel all the more serious, all the more formal. Navy blue and a little tight, with sleeves that slant across the middle of your bicep and a hem that cuts modestly across your lower thigh. Professional, smart, sexy, but not too sexy. You and Nora spent two hours at the mall picking it out last weekend. And you can see people in suits, in blazers, in dresses, everywhere you turn, but your eyes keep returning to the TA’s cardigan. Little pills, sad morsels of broken fabric.

She says your name sharply.

“Yes,” you snap to attention, and clock her poor attempt not to roll her eyes. “You were saying?”

“It’s an open bar,” she continues from a few steps ahead, slowly back away while raising her voice to be heard over the countless others sprouting across the room. “And food is served after the Keynote.”

Finally free of her and her cardigan, you scale the edge of the hall, curious eyes glancing across faces familiar and not. You notice some other postgrads from UNE, and some professors from your alma mater. But it isn’t until three hours into the conference that you notice him.

You’re in a painfully long conversation with Professor Carmichael, an ancient history department head from Boston, when you notice them.

“Well you see,” he’s saying, slowly. “The First Roman Triumvirate was very unique. Surely you agree with me there, my dear?”

“Of course,” you nod amiably. A waiter floats past you holding a tray of glasses. You grasp one with a grateful smile, and turn back to face him with a sip of cold white wine moving down your throat. “The Big Three, it’s all very interesting. Although I must say, I am personally more interested in the second triumvirat—”

“Oh they all say that,” he waves his hand. “Everyone is so taken by Antony and Octavian that they forget about Crassus! So tragic.”

“A very tragic death,” you offer an exaggerated frown. “I agree.”

Carmichael hums, eyes narrowing as if you’ve said something wrong. Sipping your wine, your eyes float over his shoulder, determinedly trying to spot any sign of food, gaze spilling across countless faces and tables and waiters and professors until one set of people makes you pause.  Wild dark hair atop a floral dress floats in your vision, her pale hand hovering over the sleeve of a tall man in a suit. You watch the backs of their heads; the way the woman tilts her chin upward to speak to the man and laughs at what he says in return. That laugh. You frown, and feel yourself take a step forward, a step in their direction.

“Is something the matter?” Carmichael asks and you halt, flash him a sweet smile and shake your head.

“No,” you rush, practically tasting the opportunity to escape the conversation. “I’m sorry, Professor, I thought I saw someone waving me over. If you don’t min—”

“Always so many people to talk to at these things,” he says in a sing-song tone of voice, smiling obliviously. “All in due course, dear. You’ll find them later I’m sure.”

It’s not until fifteen minutes later that the tap comes on your shoulder. You turn and feel relief wash over you as you come face to face with Rachel, with her tangle of curls and bright orange dress. But then a jolt shudders through your frame, for you spot the man accompanying her; the man you watched her traipse around the room with, the man in the sleek black suit—Joel, hovering a step behind her.

“Rachel,” you blink. “Joel. Hi—”

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Rachel says. Her eyes are wide, lips pulled back into a crooked grin that immediately sets you at ease. Joel, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable to say the least. You watch him tuck his hands in his pockets and then take them out again quickly, lips pursed together in a tight line as he glances between you and Professor Carmichael.

“Joel,” she grips the sleeve of his blazer and tugs him forward to stand beside her. You watch where her hand grazes him - the ease with which she jostles him around. “Did you know?”

“No.” He stares for a moment, lips parted and eyes darting across your face, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I’m giving a presentation,” you explain quickly, eyes darting between the two of them, fingers tightening around your glass every time your eyes settle on him. He trimmed his beard again; the hairs are shorter, neater—almost too short and too neat for your liking. His shirt is pressed and crisp, shock white beneath the midnight black of his jacket. He’s wearing different glasses. Tortoise shell glasses. Someone clears their throat to your right, snapping you out of your reverie. You apologise quickly, “This is Professor Carmichael.”

“Of course,” Joel nods, stepping forward to grip the older man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Professor.”

“And you, Professor Miller,” Carmichael chuckles, patting a shaky hand against Joel’s shoulder. “When was the last time we crossed paths? A year ago?”

“Must’ve been a year,” Joel smiles easily. His eyes slip to look at you every few seconds. “The conference in Ottawa.”

“The conference in Ottawa!” Carmichael cheers, nodding away. A weight sinks in your stomach like a cinder block as you watch the Professor gear up to wrangle Joel and Rachel into another conversation about Crassus’ untimely demise. But then Rachel slips away, called out to by someone across the room. And before Carmichael can open his mouth, Joel is speaking again, that honeyed drawl like music to your ears.

“Excuse me, Professor Carmichael,” he smiles again. Two of his fingers grip your elbow, tugging you a step backward. “Do you mind if I steal my star student for a few moments?”

Joel tilts your body to the left, and then the two of you are veering off into the crowd, wandering through throngs of people, his warm fingers pressed against the soft flesh above your elbow.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say under your breath, glancing around warily, trying to spy any curious eyes that might notice the two of you.   

“Could say the same thing,” he murmurs, dragging you to a stop at the edge of the hall with his eyebrows raised. “When’s your talk?”

“At one. Overlaps with the Keynote, which I’m a little relieved about,” you smile, a pinched, tense thing. “Hopefully everyone will go to that, and I’ll have a smaller crowd.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. You think you notice his shoulders stiffen. “S’that right?”

A persistent pang of hunger stabs through your stomach, you rub a hand over the front of your dress and nod. Curious brown eyes follow the movement.

“Here,” Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. His fingers graze your skin as he tucks the shiny rectangle of foil into your palm. “They don’t put out any food until after the Keynote.”

It’s a granola bar. Peanut butter and banana. You stare at it for a moment, almost dumbfounded by the kindness of the gesture. By how attentive he is; how much he notices without you even having to speak.

“Thanks,” you say. Nestle it into your purse and give him an appreciative smile.

“Sure,” he nods jerkily. Adjusts the glasses on his nose. “I’m disappointed to miss it.”

“Oh?” you blink. Your eyes focus then, flitting downward to focus on the badge hanging from his lanyard.

Joel Miller, Ph.D.

University of New England.

Keynote Speaker.

“Oh, shit.”

“Mhm,” Joel squints at you. “Sorry if I don’t share the sentiment that everyone comes to watch me instead of you.”   

“Why didn’t you…” you gape. “You didn’t say you were giving a talk?” 

“You didn’t ask.”

“The Keynote speech is a big deal,” you say, as if he wouldn’t know.

“I was their third choice,” he shrugs you off with practiced ease. “First two weren’t interested.”

“Third time lucky then,” you smile, and he chuckles. Someone calls Joel’s name then, and you both spin to see Rachel across the room with a group of people, all eagerly waving him over. Something nasty curls in your chest – something bitter and unwarranted and cruel. You smother it with a mouthful of wine and a soft smile of farewell to him as he turns and walks in her direction.

A hand clasps down on your shoulder and you flinch, turning to see Professor Carmichael beaming.

“Where were we then, my dear?”

You eat Joel’s granola bar at the back of the hall five minutes before your talk and walk onstage with the taste of peanut and banana on your lips, brushing crumbs of dried oats off your fingers.

Fifteen people attend, spotted miscellaneously across the amassed rows of chairs. The slide clicker is damp in your palm, and your thumb hovers trembling over the button, awaiting each moment you need to press down.

“Working alongside some fantastic translators,” you tell them. “We focused on studying the disparities between how Greek texts are translated by men and women. Particularly, we aimed to delve into the way emotive language has been downgraded or elevated depending on the lens through which a text is being viewed.”

Professor Carmichael sits in the front row, those sun-spot covered hands clasped in his lap, offering an encouraging smile as you shift upon the stage. Rachel is a few rows back, and she nods intently whenever you glance in her direction.

“One of our main points of focus,” you continue. “Was to understand points of difficulty in translating while accounting for cultural nuances, and how the context of differing authors can impact upon this. In my next slide—”

It’s as you turn to glance at the display that you notice them for the first time. Three rows from the front, where a group of men sit. Two of them young, maybe around your age. You change your slide and watch them whisper in each other’s ears. One of them points at you. Or not you, rather—your legs.

And you yearn for it to be meaningless. A meaningless gesture between colleagues. Meaningless legs, meaningless dress, meaningless curves and slopes and dips and spins. But as you continue, you know it can’t be. The way they talk through your presentation, as if they aren’t bothered to be heard. The way they leer at you over Carmichael’s shoulder, grinning to each other. Your words in one ear and out the other—simply a talking point for them, a blue dress, something to stare at. Your dress feels hot, tight, and your chest feels hotter, tighter under the lights as those eyes glaze over you. You glance back towards Rachel. She gives you a thumbs up that doesn’t serve to cool your nerves.

“When translating word for word in our field, it’s uncommon,” you stutter to a stop, eyes flashing warily. “Sorry, it is not uncommon to find that narratological creativity dwindles.”

You hear a chuckle to your right and swallow down the urge to shoot daggers in the direction of the sound. “Translators struggle to maintain the in-depth imaginative expression that the original Greek text inspires. But through my discussions with Professor Samaras, we found that…”

It’s in the final minutes that you notice him. Tucked away in a back row of the room, arms folded across his chest. You pause for a moment, words caught in your throat. But Joel merely gives you a short nod. The faintest hint of a smile, of the corner of his eyes slanting upward, and it’s as if a cool breeze washes over you. Hands steady, knees lock, and you push through. You don’t look at any of their faces until it’s over.

And when it is, and scattered applause decorates the air, you can’t help but cast a smile in Joel’s direction. A smile that slips and wavers when you spot the broad expanse of his back, that sharp black blazer, as he slips out the doors without wasting a second.

The rest of your audience follows suit, a slim line that wanders out the doors without a second glance—spare Carmichael, who tells you he was quite taken with how you presented yourself, my dear.

You hear your own name and turn to see Rachel approaching, a burst of floral frock and swinging earrings. Her smile is wide and crooked, and you can’t help but smile back.

“That was wonderful,” she cheers, squeezing your shoulder. “I was so taken by how you spoke about the importance of linguistic quality assurance when translating emotive texts. Brilliant!”

Your face warms. “Thank you,” you shake your head quickly. “It was… thank you. That’s very kind.”

You glance over her shoulder, wondering if he’ll reappear – perhaps share her sentiments, maybe shower you with praise. He doesn’t.

She catches you looking. “Joel was in a rush,” she offers easily. “Lots of people wanting to talk to the man of the evening.”

“Of course,” you swallow thickly. Another smile.

Rachel stares at you curiously. “He’s very impressed by you, you know.” Her voice is warm, gentle—soft spoken like a mother who can sense the slightest flash of insecurity. You cringe immediately, feel your arms cross protectively across your chest. Don’t give the game away now. “Honestly, I think he read your comparative paper on the katabasis three times. Practically raved about it when I asked what it was.”

“Oh,” you blink, shifting uneasily under her gaze. “That’s… wow, I’m flattered.”

“He sees a lot of potential in you,” she says.

“Right,” you nod. “Well, he’s a grea—you’re both great teachers. I’m very lucky to be learning from the two of you.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, and you fear your face grows warmer in the silence. Can feel the slick on your palms returning, the flash of heat in your chest, the longer you sit in it. You make a quick and tumbling excuse to flee the scene, spitting a mess of thank you so much and just need some fresh air, before you’re stumbling out of the hall and wandering outside on newborn deer legs. You snag a flute of something bubbly off the bar on your way, and find yourself on a secluded bench in the breezeway behind the conference centre.

You sit there alone and watch the grass, the way the light from inside shines out across the green. Feel the chill of the wind slip past you, rustling your hair and raising goosebumps on your bare legs. Sip dry Cava and contemplate how many more of these things you can feasibly imagine attending in your career. There’s a single text from Nora on your phone, asking how the presentation went. You tuck it into your purse, leaving the message unanswered.

By the time you hear the door hinges creak, the glass is near empty. You spy a shadowy form snaking its way down the path, headed in your direction.

“Mr Keynote Speaker,” you hum. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Funny,” Joel mutters dryly, knees cracking as he falls onto the bench beside you. A heavy sigh slips from between his lips, fingers lacing together in his lap as he gazes across the breezeway. You down the last of your drink and place it on the concrete by your feet. “Needed some god damn peace and quiet. All that chit chat drives me insane.”

You murmur in agreement and stare at the side of his face – the neatened beard, the thick frame of his glasses. Purposeful or not, the side of his body is pressed against yours. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder – he’s sat directly in the centre of the bench. Heat radiates off his body and it’s almost too warm, and yet you find yourself relaxing against him.

“First time at one of these?” Joel asks gruffly. He’s still not looking at you, his eyes trained on a pigeon pecking at a discarded foil wrapper on the grass.

“Is it that obvious?” you grimace.

“Only because I’ve been to twenty of the damn things,” he says. “Y’learn how to smell the nervous energy comin’ off the first timers.”

“Twenty?” you mutter. Feel your stomach curl and twist at the idea of doing this day nineteen more times.

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Went to a lot during my second degree. Had to get good at talkin’, fast.”

“Ahh,” you say. “So, you weren’t always such a sweet talker then?”

He lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the thought. “Sweet talker, huh? That what I am?”

You shrug, suddenly emboldened by him following you outside, by how close he is, by how open he seems.

“I suppose,” you say slowly.

“And what gave you that idea?”

“You here alone?” you offer a poor imitation of him, voice low and breathy with your awful take on a Southern twang. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You wink, quietly delighted by the way his lips have tightened into a flat line.

“Funny,” he says again, entirely unamused now.

Something warm shifts in your lower stomach. Something wet—a vivid memory of him on the ground behind you in the bathroom of a bar, of hands spreading you open, of his tongue pressing inside you, of The Eagles playing faintly in the background.

“You do that kind of thing often?” you ask.  

“Do what?”

“Approach young women at bars,” you wiggle your eyebrows, smirking. “Rob them of their virtue in the bathroom and then hope you never see them again.”

“You? Virtuous?” Joel rolls his eyes. You can see the corner of his lip curling upward. “Must be gettin’ yourself confused with somebody else.”  

“Maybe,” you smile.

“Sometimes,” he casts you a look, after a moment. “Not… often. And not young.”

“Younger,” you counter quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to be…” he trails off and shakes his head. “It’s not a thing I do, alright?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t date then?”

He tilts his head at you curiously, eyes planted firmly on your face now. “Not for a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Been busy,” he grunts, clearly growing impatient by the line of questioning.  “Spent a lot of time studying. Working.”

“Where did you study?” you press.

“This twenty fuckin’ questions?” he snaps, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Came out here for—”

“You came out here,” you interrupt. “Because I came out here.”

He glowers at you, but doesn’t try to deny it.

“Night classes at Texas A&M for my undergrad,” he grits out. You smile sickly sweet, pleased. “Did my postgrads part time at UT Austin,” Joel says.

Your eyebrows kick up again, the teasing pretence all but forgotten. “Sounds… unconventional?” you offer softly.

“That’s one word for it,” he agrees vaguely. “Spent the better half of a decade at school just to end up teaching at one. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“And before that?” you press.  

“Before that,” he continues with a wry grin, one full of distaste and frustration and resentment. “Was a contractor for a long time. Houses, buildings.” He rests a hand against his shoulder, fingers pressing against the muscle there, as if working out a decade old knot.

And for a moment you can see it. Can almost taste it. Collared shirts and glasses replaced with hard hats and hammers and dirt in the lines of his palms. Joel carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder, wearing a toolbelt. Joel on his knees, sweat shining on his forehead while he wields an electric drill.

Your dress feels too tight suddenly. Too warm.

“A contractor,” you say distractedly, and hope he doesn’t notice how your thighs press together.

“Mhm,” Joel nods. “With my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

He ignores that. “Where did you study?”

“San Diego State,” you flash him a grin. “Go Aztecs.”

“Good school,” he hums. “You’re a long way from California.”

Only a little further than Texas, you think.

“You did good up there,” Joel adds.  

Your smile dips and wanes into a scowl, uninterested in the change of subject.

“What?”

“It was…” you shake your head slowly, face warming as you glance down to your lap.

“What?”

“It just wasn’t what I expected.” You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your dress. “That’s all.”

“And what did you expect?”

“To be listened to,” you grunt. “Not gawked at by some ancient jerkoffs that were only there to stare at my ass when I turned to change a slide.”

Joel nods, quiet.

“I wanted it to matter,” you mutter. “Wanted to… fuck, I wanted to impress them.”

“I was impressed.”

“Oh yeah?” you snort, finally looking up. “You hightailed it out of there pretty quickly.”

Joel shakes his head and stares back at you, gaze heavy. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs, knuckles lightening to white as he squeezes. You shuffle on the seat—ignore the flare of heat that erupts where your shoulder nudges firmer against his. 

“I guess you could say,” he speaks slowly. “I’m tryin’ to keep my distance.”

You arch an eyebrow and attempt to swallow the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” you smirk.

Joel laughs and your smile falters, mouth going slack at the sound. How rare it is, and how much rarer to have it all to yourself like this. For all of his sharp angles, his sweet talking, his harsh words, and harsher touch—that laugh is the cruellest part.  

He jostles his shoulder against yours a little. An acknowledgement; perhaps a glimpse inside. Something that says, I know, I see it, I feel it, I can’t stop either.

“You make it hard,” he says then, and his voice is soft—almost a whisper.

“How’s that?” You match his tone, as if you’re two little kids who’ve snuck outside to share secrets where no one else can hear them.

“You bein’ here,” he murmurs, eyes searching. “Startin’ to feel like you’re everywhere I turn.”

A breeze swims past and you shiver, locks of hair floating in a mess around your face until you pat them down. Joel moves almost imperceptibly, curling his side tighter against yours to shield you from the onslaught.

“I know the feeling,” you admit.

The muscle in his jaw ticks and he clears his throat, looking out across the green again. For a moment the pair of you sit in silence. Not as professor and student, but simply a man and a woman on a bench. Breathing the same air, soaking in a shared silence that only the two of you could understand. And there are so many more questions you want to ask him, so much more you feel compelled to know, but instead you settle for this—sitting on a bench together, shoulders and thighs and chests pressed side to side, two frames moulded around the welcoming shape of one another. For now.

“It gets easier,” Joel says then, jaw tense as he spares a glance back in your direction. “This stuff, these people, all the talkin’.”

You acknowledge him with a small smile, just the slightest twitch of your lip. Don’t bother saying, maybe for you. Maybe for a man.

“You know,” you suck in a breath and give him a lazy smile instead. “I think this might be the longest conversation we’ve had without ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“Mm.” He leans his head back to rest on the wall, eyes focusing up towards the sky.

“I like it,” you say quietly. Hear how vulnerability chimes in your voice – a wobble that begs to be ignored and understood all at once. “It’s nice… talking like this.”

Joel’s head tilts towards you, dark eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that wariness in his eyes. The same wariness that poured out in flecks of brown and amber and gold in the light of your bedroom a week ago, when he told you he was fifty. A hesitant curiosity, an incessant suspicion, a bark of disbelief. You feel the desire to pluck the feeling out of him and swallow it whole. To lock it safely inside yourself and make it so he never has to feel it again.

So you lean in a press your lips against his. Painfully soft, just a whisper of two mouths slotting together. Chapped and dry from the wind, he tastes like bitter sparkling wine. You sigh into him, uncaring. Hook your ankle around his, place your hand on his thigh, and sink closer, deeper.

He pulls back an inch, mouth still hovering over yours, the tip of his nose pressed into your cheek.

“Shouldn’t do this here,” he warns quietly, eyes still closed. His breath is hot against your face, and you inhale the taste of mint and Cava and Joel.

“I know.” You grip the lapel of his blazer and kiss him again. Firmer this time, grazing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he welcomes you inside to taste behind his teeth. The frame of his glasses presses into your nose, your cheeks, and you smile into his mouth. Rough palms and lazy fingertips graze the skin of your bicep, your neck, until they find a home at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses against the hinge of your jaw, hot wet tongue working your mouth open until you’re whining, teeth nipping at his bottom lip and fingernails digging into the meat of his thigh.

Only when you move to press a hand beneath the collar of his shirt does Joel pull back again, this time to stand and take a step away from the bench. A tinge of scarlet creeps its way from the hollow of his throat to the apple of his cheeks. He clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, towards the door. When he looks back, there’s something new there. Some dangerous that flashes in his eyes and lingers when his gaze dances down the curve of your body against the seat.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, breathless.

For a minute he doesn’t answer. Simply stares, contemplating, broad chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The lenses of his glasses are fogged, and you watch them slowly clear.  

Then— “The Pendry.”

Joel reaches into his pocket and retrieves something small and laminated. You take it from his outstretched palm carefully. “Fifth floor.”

You stare at it for a moment. Turn it over in your palm once, twice. Read the room number printed on the key card before tucking it safely into your purse. When you look up again, Joel is already walking back inside.

It’s nearing midnight by the time you arrive at the Pendry – a high rise in Manhattan West, the kind with a fancy lobby and a doorman in a neat black suit. The polar opposite of the hotel where your suitcase lies unopened across the city. You feel out of place in an instant, but you’re still in your dress, and the staff don’t bat an eye at your presence. The key card he gave you is hot where your fingers curl around it, plastic damp and foggy with the sweat from your palms. By the time you reach his door you have to wipe it on your dress before the sensor will recognise it.

A hollow beep echoes through the hall, and his door presses open with a soft hiss.

The room is enveloped in darkness. Moonlight shines in through a slim gap in the curtains, highlighting vague edges of the space. A desk against the wall, a large bed on the left of the room. For a moment you consider that he isn’t here—that he got caught up at the conference, sweet talking into the midnight hour with other professors and alums. You can hear sounds from the street, music and car horns blaring, even from the fifth floor. But nothing else. No Joel.

Tentatively, you take a step inside the room. And then another. Kick your heels off and feel rough carpet hairs sift between your toes. Holding your hands out into the darkness, fingertips ghosting the wall for support, you venture further into the room, only pausing when your shin thumps against the corner of something sharp and sturdy.

You spit a surprised curse and stumble into the wall, hands falling to grip your leg where it throbs and smarts.

“Jesus fuck,” you hiss, smoothing your fingers against the already forming lump.

A lamp flicks on, and the room lurches into view, tinged in a soft yellow light. You jump, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. Bed sheets rumple and shift, and Joel is frowning at you from his place amongst the pillows, a hand raising to drowsily scratch his chin.  

“The hell are you doin’?” he rasps.

Heat flares in your face as you straighten up, mirroring his frown. He moves slow, a sluggish stretch out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and he looks almost concerned. It gives you pause for a moment, eyes unsure of where to settle, as you note just how much of his body you’ve never seen before. The soft muscles in his legs, the dark hair over tan skin. You can see the slight round of his stomach through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Were you asleep?” you accuse.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” Joel mutters, and the sound is a fractured medley of words and yawns. You feel a dull pang of disappointment in your chest as you watch him rub sleep from the corner of his left eye.

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You gave me a key.”   

“I know,” he sighs.

“Of course I was going to come.”

He nods. Yawns again, hand snaking upward to cover his open mouth.

You turn your back on him slowly. Take a glass from the little kitchenette and let the faucet run a cool burst of water into it. Little specks of water splash up, dotting against your hand. Your feet ache from wearing those damn heels all day, but you wilfully ignore the pain, gulping down half the glass while staring at your reflection in the splashback. Blue dress, hair tucked behind your ears, charcoal smudged around the curve of your eyes.

Joel’s fingers wind around yours, peeling the glass from your clutch so he can steal the final few sips. He discards it on the counter and leans against it. You try to make out his expression in the shadowy light, wiping your water-dotted arm against your side.

“S’a good dress.” He looks more alert suddenly, eyes sharp and focused, wide shoulders squared.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Didn’t say anything about it earlier.”

“Was tryin’ not to think about it,” he says plainly. “And how badly I wanted to take it off.”

Your hand stills. That misplaced disappointment slips out of the room, an unwelcome third party, and you grin at him. A sleazy, sleepy smile, and walk backwards in the direction of the bed without taking your eyes off of him.

“So take it off,” you challenge.

Your heartbeat is a steady thrum against your breastbone as he crosses the room. Badoom, badoom, no less than three strides and he’s there, gripping your waist to turn you so his chest is against your back.

Your zip is a low whir in the air, spinning downward slowly, slowly, from the nape of your neck to the sloping base of your spine. Deft hands trace skin, grazing every mark, every freckle as they are revealed to him, until the material of your dress is a gaping smile across your back. You shiver as the air rushes to meet your bare flesh, and then careful—cautious—you feel a pair of lips press against the top of your spine, soft pink against steely vertebrae. You say his name, low and surprised, and he doesn’t say anything. Those hands push the dress down your arms, and you watch it tremble and fall, a mess of blue at your feet.

You can hear his breathing; the way it stutters and jumps as he traces the clasp of your bra, the arch of your spine beneath it.

“Take it off,” you say again, and feel a sharp scratch of desperation that perhaps this time he won’t deny you this. This something that you’ve not experienced even once, and yet you find yourself missing.

The idea of his skin against yours is something prophetic, something inevitable, something divine—something determined far before the two of you met in that bar. It’s out of your control or his, irrevocable—a beast bred from desire that claws and snaps at the bars of its cage, calling you kicking and screaming into each other’s arms.

His fingers pluck at the clasp, and you smile. Sigh in relief as your bra hits the floor and the weight of your breasts are borne to the increasingly warm air. Joel is still behind you, still not seeing you. But broad palms splay across your back, massaging and flexing into your skin as they roam your sides, your stomach, up your front to cup your breasts. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as he squeezes softly, palms warm and solid against the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Fuck.” Joel’s nose buries itself in your hair, his forehead against the back of your head. Your legs shake, and you lean back into his chest, your body a soft and tremulous thing that would surely float away if he weren’t here to hold you up.  

His hands are on your breasts, sweet and tender and finally, and you wonder how long this wanting will feel like burning. Like nicks of flame that gloss over you and spit embers at anyone who dares to get too close—at him, sparking and sputtering as they collide in a spitfire symphony. This man who lives set ablaze in his own right. This man who welcomes your flame every time—swallows it whole, and lays kisses against the back of your neck with lips still warm.

Calloused fingers roll and circle your nipples, playing gently, listening for every gasp, every sigh, before diligently repeating whatever it was that called the sound forward. Your underwear is all but ruined, already damp and clinging to the slick skin between your thighs. And you can feel him against your lower back, albeit unmoving—not grinding against you, not pushing you down onto the bed, but waiting – for what, you can’t be sure.

You turn around faster than he can stop you. Hook fingers into the band of your panties and drag them down in a swift movement before straightening, holding his gaze all the while. And Joel—

He looks in pain. Dark eyes lock onto on your face and don’t stray. Don’t dip downward, don’t glance around the room. His hands hang by his sides, palms facing upward in a dejected fashion, jaw slack as he just—waits.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you whisper.

“You don’t….” he shakes his head. “If I look, I won’t be able to forget. And I—I can’t—”

There’s a flash of that memory again. Sweating in the dark bathroom of a bar in Portland. Joel wiping stained lipstick from your chin. The words I’m gonna remember this dripping from his swollen lips.

You take a step forward. Feel your nipples graze the soft material of his shirt. “And what if I don’t want you to forget?”

He says your name quietly, shoulders tense. But when you grip the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t stop you. Rather, he lifts his arms and lets you drag the fabric over his head. You marvel at the bare skin, eyes dancing across jutting collarbones and the soft swell of his stomach. Watch the way his chest rises and falls as stilted breaths flurry inside him before spilling into the air between you. Admire the trail of dark hair that rests between his bellybutton and the soft band of his underwear. His eyes don’t leave your face as you push the boxers down his legs.

“So handsome,” you say and Joel exhales, hands hovering a hairsbreadth from your waist. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you. This moment of more. To be with him like this feels like more. To be naked feels like more.

You grip his hand and raise it to your breast again. Squeeze your fingers over his. His thumb flicks across your nipple and you gasp. His eyes darken, nostrils flaring as he fights to restrain himself.  

“Joel,” you whisper. “Look at me.”

Finally, he does. Those brown eyes flickering downward to rake in the sight of your body.

He’s on you in a second, mouth slanting desperately against yours while his hands drift aimlessly across skin, untethered in their access. Fingers pinching and grabbing and squeezing, teeth searing at your lips, and you gasp as his cock presses against your stomach. The long, thick weight of him, drooling and needy. Your fingers slip around him, rub softly over the underside of his head, the vein on the underside of him. Joel grips your wrist and pushes you backward a step, his lips leaving yours with a wet smack.

“Sit on the bed,” he orders firmly.

You wander backward, stumbling onto the edge of the bed when your calves collide with the heavy wooden base. He watches you, hand drifting to wrap around the base of his cock. He strokes himself gently, black eyes tracing vigilantly over every inch of your body. And you expect him to push you down, to crawl on top of you. Instead, you watch with bated breath as Joel drops to his knees in front of you. His knees crack as they bend but he ignores it, nudging your thighs apart so his broad frame can fit between them. Hooded eyes gaze between your thighs, roaming across all of the bare skin on show. Slowly, he lifts a hand and rests it gently on your mound. Calloused fingers stroke over the dark hair there, stroking through the short curls. You sigh and cant your hips up, but Joel only grunts, his free hand squeezing your thigh to hold you against the mattress.

Before you can process it, he’s leaning forward, nose nestling in your hair as his warm tongue parts your folds. You groan in unison, your fingers carding through his curls to hold him against you. He murmurs something that you don’t quite catch over the roaring in your ears, but you don’t care. Too caught up in a smooth slide of his mouth slotting against you. The flat of his tongue glides up and down your sex, smearing a mess of slick and saliva in his wake. You gasp as it flicks sharply across your clit, your jaw tensing at the harsh sensation. Joel notices—pulls back.

“Tell me,” he urges.    

“Slower,” you say quickly, voice feeble and desperate.

“Slower,” Joel repeats with a nod, and he massages your thighs as he licks into you, fingernails scraping your skin as his grip tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He traces slow circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue that have you gasping and bucking against his face. And when his tongue presses inside of you, you moan, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.

“Fuck,” he growls into you, and he likes that. You do it again and his eyes flick open, pupils blown, gaze darting wildly across your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your face – watching, admiring, taking in every detail of the offering that you’ve laid so generously at his altar. The tip of a finger curls inside you and he grins when your thighs tense around him. He rears his head back to watch how you welcome him inside, eyes locked on the way your weeping cunt clenches and drips around one of his fingers, and then another.

“Yeah,” you sigh, nose scrunching at the slight stretch. “Yeah, like that, fuck.” 

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Christ.” And then the cut of his wet red mouth is back on you, lips parting to suck against your clit until you’re crying out, voice a hoarse shout as you speed rapidly towards your end.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. One of your legs kicks out straight and his hand drops from your thigh, one set of fingers working you open while the other comes up to part your lips, giving himself more access. As he lathes wet kisses against you, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping your inner thighs, you can feel it. That liquid heat that coils and stirs in the base of your stomach.

“Joel, I—ohh—I think I’m gonna come,” you whimper, hand shooting out to grip his shoulder. Your nails dig into the tense muscle there, using the leverage to rut your hips against his face.

He groans into your sex, fingers moving faster, unforgiving against that spongy spot deep inside that sets you alight. His teeth graze against your clit, the lightest brush, and your stomach is tensing, every muscle in your body locking up.

“Give it t’me,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, come on, baby.”

A choked gasp falls from your lips and then you’re coming, twitching against his face, pussy bearing down on thick fingers that stoke you through the high. Your hand leaves his shoulder to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against where you’re aching for him still. Joel moans, a low sound from deep in his chest, dragging his fingers away so he can drink down every heady drop of your orgasm.

Baby.

The word rings in your head, bouncing inside your skull, a fierce ricochet. Baby.

Trembling fingers feather across the cowlick at the crown of his head, twisting and petting soft wayward curls as his mouth pulls back, a wet drag across the skin of your hip. You catch a glimpse of his cock, heavy and throbbing between his thighs.

Joel’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh, a sharp pinch that makes you flinch. Tired muscles tensing, face twisting up as he sucks and licks, hot tongue soothing over the stinging red mark. He breathes your name, mouthing the sound into your flesh once, twice.

“I’ve been tryna remember this,” he murmurs. “Only ever had it for a second.”

You whimper as he licks into you again, slowly. And you’re so sensitive, and maybe—maybe—it’s too much, too soon, but he doesn’t care. He grips your calf and tucks it over his shoulder. Holds it there in a vice grip.

“Wasn’t enough,” he says. Dark eyes look up and you’re rapt in them—bound and boneless simply from having those eyes on you you you nothing but you all he sees is you and he loves it, you can tell. Thrives on the way you melt beneath his rough fingertips, the wet drag of his tongue. “Remember that first day in my office?

Remember, remember, remember, how could you forget? I’m gonna remember this this this.

“Yes.” Your leg trembles against the side of face, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching your skin. The tip of his tongue lathes slow circles around your clit. A cruel, leisurely slip of flesh on flesh that has you gasping and twitching beneath his hands.

“I wanted this that day,” Joel rasps. “Needed it. But you were gone so soon, ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself.”

“What—oh fuck—” He flicks his tongue faster, hot swipes from side to side that have your thigh clamping down against the muscles in his neck. Your mind is a blur, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of his words.

“Fucked my fist the second you left,” he growls. “My fingers in my mouth, the taste of you—Christ, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Joel,” you gasp, impatient. “I—get up here. Please, just—”

Strong hands push you up, push you back, further onto the bed until your head hits the pillows. His hair is a wild fray around his head, knotted and mussed from your fingers raking through it.

“I don’t have anything,” he says.

“I don’t care,” you say.

His knees press onto the mattress on either side of you and his eyes glance down your chest before he grips your waist and he’s turning you. Your stomach meets the sheets and you move to arch your back, to tilt your hips up towards him, but a firm hand rests on the small of your back, and keeps you down.

“Like this,” you hear him say. “Trust me.”

His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel him there, knuckles brushing the flesh of your ass, spreading you apart so his cock can press inside. The pillow swallows your wet gasp, and your eyes pinch shut against the stretch as he sinks deeper and deeper. Every delicious inch splits you open wider, further, carving out that space that’s just for him, and it’s more. Your vision blurs and you clutch at the sheets, fingers tangling in linen as Joel’s breathy groans fill the air.

“God,” he grunts. “Always so fuckin’—tight.”

You cry out as he begins to move, pressing you further into the mattress. The stretch of him is so broad—so deep—it has hot tears pricking in your eyes. Your legs are straight, almost clamped together, leaving the smallest gap for him to break through. His chest melts against your back, sweet sweat sliding from skin to skin. And his stomach is soft against the base of your spine, but his teeth are sharp where they nip and smart against the skin of your shoulder, your neck. He sets a pace that has you biting down into the pillow to muffle your groans. It’s almost overbearing how good it feels, how he surrounds you. Flat against the mattress, there’s nowhere to hide from the pleasure, no way to twist or curl your body away from how good it feels. A choked moan is muffled by the pillow.

And then his fingers are in your hair, dragging your head up.

“What are you fuckin’ doin’?” he grunts. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar as you take take take. He pulls your hair harder when you don’t respond, presses his chin against your shoulder, lips curling against the skin of your neck as he speaks. “Don’t do that, not here. No more hidin’, I wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

He grips your hips and drags you upward so you’re on your knees, bracing against your forearms, and then his hand snakes around the front of your body, fingers dragging between your thighs as he begins moving again.

“Oh fuck,” your eyes widen in surprise, jaw hanging slack as he rolls his finger in expert circles over your clit. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Fuck,” you repeat, mewling every time one of his thrusts sends your face forward into the pillows. “Yes, oh god.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “That’s it, lemme hear it.”

“Joel,” you cry out, voice cracked and broken. “So good.”

“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”

“You’re so—deep,” you gasp.

“I know,” he soothes.

“I missed this,” you babble, mouth moving faster than your mind. “Missed you.”

“Christ,” he spits, pulling you up until you’re leaning against his chest. His fingers are a blur against your clit, cock a fast wet shift in and out in and out.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder, mouth hanging open as you press your ass back into him.

“Missed me?” Joel says, and his cheek is warm against yours. Wet. Your face is wet. “Gonna show me how much?”

“Yes,” you moan. His free hand grips your breast, squeezing and pinching.

“Need to get my fuckin’ mouth on you,” he growls.

“No,” you beg. “Joel, don’t—fuuuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Wanted to,” his hips stutter against you, losing momentum for a second. “Jesus, wanted to take my fuckin’ time.” You snake a hand behind his head to grip his hair again, to press his face into your neck. His mouth latches onto your skin, spit mixing with sweat where his teeth and tongue trace your roaring pulse. Your thighs are trembling, knees weak and wobbling against the mattress as he pistons into you, unrelenting, unforgiving.

“I’m—” your eyes start to roll back. You can feel your back arch and twist against him, toes curling into the sheets. “Oh my God.”

He says your name in a panicked hiss and pulls out.

You gasp at the loss, eyes flying open in alarm. He moves your body, not wasting a second as he lowers you down onto your back presses inside again, hands gripping the underside of your knees, holding them against your chest. Practically bent in half, you tremble in his grasp, eyes blurred and wet as you sob his name.

“Lemme have it,” he goads you, voice a dull vibration against your chest. “Bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, yeah, just like that.”

And it feels like something splinters within you as heat floods your senses, vision whiting out until all you can see is the soft edges of his curls against your chest, the wet smear of his tongue over your nipple. All you can hear is the words he speaks against your skin.

I’m close, he warns, and you say yes, say please, say I want it, because you do.

“Where?” You call the shots.

And you say, Inside, say, I want it, because you do.

Because you want everything. Everything he has and whatever dark matter is left after that. And everything is a naked thought, a stark realisation, a frighteningly bare streak of madness that zips down your spine and melts in your belly, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with the enormity of it. Can feel your body squeezing and sucking and holding it holding it holding it and with black eyes, spheres of a night sky’s pitch, he stares at you. Unruly eyebrows pinched tight. Mouth slick and swollen and snarling, white teeth grit like prison bars, keeping everything contained inside himself, just out of your reach.  

“Fuck,” Joel spits, pleading, desperate. “Don’t—”

But his hips are bruising against yours and you relish in the ache. The jut of bone amidst the softness of his skin, a reminder of the coldness in him, the determination, the impatience. And you know that you can only have so much softness until there is stone. But you cannot understand don’t, you never have with him, so you grind upward. Meet him thrust for thrust, and shiver in delight as a tortured expression passes over his face. And when you come again he curses, broad palms bearing down on you, holding your frame into the mattress as he pushes you through it, prolonging that naked thought, that fearsome idea. You only hope that he cannot see how your own everything spills. How it cools and congeals around him with its palms spread open, longing to receive as much in return.

Joel comes with a shout, hips dragging backwards so his spend can spill across your stomach and the puffy lips of your sex. He grips his cock, milking himself for all he’s worth until wet ropes of his come are smeared across your thighs too. You gasp and writhe against the bed, trying in vain to keep your heavy eyelids open, not wanting to miss a second. The shine of your slick on his thighs and lower stomach is clear in the dim lighting, and you smile at the sight of it – your claim on him. Chest heaving, he follows your gaze, fingers swiping across his skin before sinking into his mouth. He groans around his fingers and you stomach lurches as he lowers his chest to the bed, mouth drifting between your splayed thighs.

You cup his jaw and hold him still.  

“I can’t,” you murmur, and your voice is cracked and broken. “S’too much.”

And he agrees, tracing the marks on the inside of your thighs with his mouth until your eyes drift closed.

Time passes slowly after that. You don’t open your eyes for a while. Too fucked out, too tired, too tender.

There’s a warm glide of something soft and wet over your stomach, your thighs, between your legs—Joel cleaning up his mess. You almost wish he wouldn’t.

“Sorry,” you mumble a few minutes later. “I’ll go in a second.” But your eyes are closed, and the sheets smell like him.

You feel the mattress dip beside you. Hear a soft click as he turns off the lamp, and darkness swells around you once more.

“S’okay,” he says, and his voice is so close, as if he were whispering against the shell of your ear, breathing the words into you. “Don’t have to go.”

And it makes sense not to go. To stay, to stay, to stay. To sink deeper into the hotel mattress, and let the sounds of his heavy exhales lull you further to sleep. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t come any closer. But you can smell him. Can feel his warmth, a radiating sun that shines across the side of your body closest, and you sink deeper still.

You think of the katabasis - the hero’s journey spiralling down into the underworld. Of Orpheus seeking the safe return of Eurydice, his love lost too soon. Of Odysseus, guided by Circe to discover Teiresias on his quest for homecoming. Of Aeneid, venturing downward to meet his father and hear his true destiny. This descent into the afterlife, into the realm of the dead, wherein upon return our hero is irrevocably changed. But to stay, to stay, to stay. So warm it is here, you think, so lovely and warm to descend wholly into this wanting, this burning, this everything.   

“Is this a good idea?” you murmur, voice a drowsy call into the darkness. “For me to stay?”

Joel doesn’t respond.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @bbyanarchist @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida @mendessi @love-the-abyss @myrealmofchaos @a-roving-woman @punkshort @gracie7209 @whichwitchwanda @fellinfromthetop @bitchwitch1981 @suzmagine @@lmariephoto37 @harriedandharassed @cumberpegg @tonysttank @ourautumn86 @my-tearsricochet @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 @psychedelic-ink @what-is-your-wish @sugadolly @elissaaa @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul

thank you for reading! x

[screaminglygay]

Warm welcome

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)

summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?

warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)

word count: 5.5k

an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!

an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.

an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!

!MDNI!

After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.

And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.

As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"

"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.

As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.

And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.

"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.

You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.

"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.

"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.

"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.

"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.

"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.

She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.

"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.

The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.

You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.

You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.

You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.

"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.

"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"

"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.

"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.

"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.

"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.

"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.

Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"

"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.

"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.

"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.

"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."

...

After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.

"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.

"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.

"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.

"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.

"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."

"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.

...

"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.

"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.

"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.

"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.

"Fury!" You smile.

He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."

"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.

"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.

"Yes, sir?"

"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.

You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."

Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".

You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.

It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.

...

Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.

"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.

"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.

"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.

"I hate you."

"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.

"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.

"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.

"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"

"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.

"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.

Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."

"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.

"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.

"Arrows?" You cut him off.

"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.

"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.

Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."

"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.

"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.

Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.

"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.

"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.

"Pietro..." you look at him.

"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.

"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.

You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.

"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.

"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.

"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.

"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.

"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.

"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.

"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.

All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.

After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.

After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"

"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.

"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"

Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"

You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.

Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."

"Oh please..."

"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.

"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.

"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."

"No problem." She smiles back.

"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.

"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.

"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time

"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.

Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.

"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.

"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.

She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"

That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.

"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.

"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.

"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.

"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."

"That´s harsh." She chuckles.

"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."

"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.

"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.

"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.

"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.

"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.

"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."

"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.

"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.

"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.

"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.

"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.

It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.

"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.

"You think?"

"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.

"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.

"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.

"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.

"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.

You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."

Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.

She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.

"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.

"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.

"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."

Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."

You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."

She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."

Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."

The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.

"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"

"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.

"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.

"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.

"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.

"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.

"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.

"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.

"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.

Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.

"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.

"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.

"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.

Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.

"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.

The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.

…

As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.

...

"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.

"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.

"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.

"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.

"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.

"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.

"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.

"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.

"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.

"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.

"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.

"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.

"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.

"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.

"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.

"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.

"And that will be?"

"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.

"Easy." You smirk.

Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."

"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.

...

When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.

"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.

"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.

"Copy that. So... see you later?"

"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.

As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.

"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.

"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.

Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.

"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.

"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.

"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.

He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.

"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.

"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."

Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."

"I see." She smiles.

"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.

"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.

"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.

"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.

...

Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.

Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.

Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.

Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.

thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞

[pedrospatch]

we need you

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SET IN JACKSON. takes place during Kin. arguing, angst. helpful to know reader was not present when Joel and Tommy talked in the garage. NO mentions of age, reader has no physical description.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: welllllp i don't know about you guys, but i am DEAD inside after tonight so to cope i am going to write a little drabble. already put it in the warning/tags section, but once again, just to be on the safe side of things: potential spoilers, proceed with caution if you do not want the newest episode spoiled!

“Just what in the motherfucking hell was that, Joel?” You nearly growled, bursting through the door of the bedroom that he’d chosen to occupy for the night. Having heard the way he’d spoken to Ellie—not to mention, all that he had said to her even after her heartbreaking confession to him, her unspoken cry for him not to abandon her, all you could see in your mind was the color red. Sure, you and Joel had been through your fair share of bullshit over the years, disagreements that caused friction between the two of you weren’t all that uncommon seeing as the two of you shared similar personality traits to each other, stubbornness being one of them. But you could not, for the life of you, remember an occasion where you’d been this angry with him, this fucking livid. As you watched him sink down onto the bed without a word, your hands curled into fists at your sides. You knew it would only make matters worse, losing your temper, but you weren’t all too sure that you could contain it this time around.

The blood in your veins was bubbling, boiling hot underneath your skin.

“Are you going to fucking answer me or what?” You prompted, a cool edge to your tone despite the heat radiating throughout your body. “You’re really trying to hand her off to Tommy?”

Joel sighed, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“Find what out, Joel? That you went off and made a decision, and a really fucking dumb one at that, without even talking to me about it first?” You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Despite how incredibly furious you were, the sadness was heavy inside of your chest. Tt was as if Joel had forgotten the fact that for the last few months, Ellie had been under your care too, and you had every right to be a part of any decision that he made regarding her and her well-being. It hurt you to your very core that he’d done this without talking to you first, and it hurt you even deeper to know that Ellie had known about this and she’d kept it all to herself all evening.

She’d come home from the movies and when you offered her dinner, she refused to eat and stomped upstairs, locking herself in the bedroom. You’d chalked it up to nothing more than a typical teenaged girl simply having a mood swing. After all, it hadn’t exactly been the best day for Ellie. She’d arrived in Jackson and the first thing she noticed was how everyone in the colony looked at her, especially the children. She was different. She didn’t fit in, she stuck out like a sore thumb and you knew that had to have been hard for her. Not wanting to push her, you’d figured that she would come out of the room eventually and talk you about it when she was good and ready. But now that you knew the real reason why she had come home so upset, you couldn’t help but to feel guilty.

For hours, Ellie had been upstairs in that room knowing that Joel planned on dumping her on Tommy and you didn’t have the slightest fucking clue about what was going on until you’d overheard Joel and Ellie’s shouting match just moments ago.

“Joel.” You said his name in a tone neither of you recognized.

Low, venomous, borderline dangerous.

You were like a ticking bomb, seconds away from going off.

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “She’s better off with Tommy, alright? And we both fuckin’ know that,” he said. “It’s the best thing to do for her. I’m doin’ it because I know damn good and well that if she stays with me, all I’m gonna do is have her fall into the wrong fuckin’ hands or killed.”

“You’re wrong!” You countered, dropping your arms away from your chest and back down to your sides. “Joel, don’t you dare fucking do this. Ellie doesn’t want Tommy, she wants you. She all but fucking said it right to your face just a minute ago!” You cried, pointing a finger towards the door of the room as if pointing to Ellie herself. “She admitted to you that she wouldn’t feel safe with anyone else, Joel. So don’t you fucking do this to her.”

He gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles going ghost white. “She’ll be better off with Tommy,” he repeated himself. He paused for a brief moment, just long enough to avert his tortured gaze from yours as he said, “And so would you.”

Your mouth parted slightly in shock. “Fucking excuse me?”

“I can’t keep her safe. Hell, I can barely keep you safe! How many fuckin’ times have I almost lost you? ‘Cause I don’t move fast enough? ‘Cause I’ve made the wrong decisions? ‘Cause I’ve asked you to do somethin’ for me and turns out that I unknowingly sent you into the fuckin’ lion’s den?” He inhaled a sharp breath, and you could hear his voice breaking with each and every word that fell from his lips. “I’ve almost cost you your life how many fuckin’ times now?”

“Joel—”

“Tess died ‘cause of me.” He saw you open your mouth to protest and he quickly added, “You can sit there and tell me over and over that it wasn’t my fault ‘til you’re blue in the face, but let’s just fuckin’ be honest and tell it how it is, alright? I couldn’t get to her quick enough and now she’s dead. I won’t let you meet the same fate.” Joel reached up, raking a hand tiredly through his hair, mentally bracing himself for your reaction to what he was about to say next. “I think you should go with Tommy and get Ellie to where she needs to be. After that, you should—you should think about stayin’ here with him in Jackson. I probably don’t belong here, but you do.”

You let out a small, shaky breath of air.

“Who the hell are you to make that kind of decision for me?” You asked, willing yourself to keep yourself from crumbling into tears. “I’m sorry Joel, but you can’t make that kind of a choice for me. And do you want to know what else?” You didn’t even wait for him to respond. “You can’t make it for Ellie, either.”

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen years old—”

You took a step forward as you challenged him. “Do you really think that girl isn’t smart enough to know deep down inside what’s best for her? Tell me, do you really think that Ellie pulled everything she said out of her ass? Do you honestly think that she could ever trust Tommy the way that she trusts you?” You felt a warm tear slide down your cheek and quickly wiped it away before he could see it. “Ellie is young, but she’s not a baby, Joel. I get that sometimes we need to guide her through shit, but let’s be real. She is old enough to make decisions for herself. Maybe not all of them, but the decision that you’re trying to make for her right here, right now—it isn’t yours to make.” Another tear made its way down the side of your face as you whispered, “And the one you’re trying to make for me isn’t either.”

Joel hung his head, seemingly defeated. “Why can’t you see it’s for the best? Why are you makin’ this so hard?”

Willing your trembling legs to move, you slowly walked over to him and sank to your knees in front of him; although you tried to meet his eyes, he refused. “You care about Ellie. I know it, I can see it and I can feel it. For as much shit as you give her all the time, I know that she’s become so important to you.”

“‘Course she is,” he mumbled. “You’re both important to me.”

You reached for his hands, pulling them forward onto his lap. You placed your own hands on top of his, lacing your fingers together. “Then don’t fucking do this to us, Joel. Please. I’m already down on my knees and I will fucking beg and plead if that’s what it’s going to take.” You crouched down a little further, enough so that you could look up into his dark brown eyes. “Ellie wants to be with you, Joel. And I do too.”

Joel’s gaze glistened with tears that he tried, but failed, to keep from falling in front of you. “I’ll fail you, just like I’ve fuckin’ failed everybody else.”

“Joel, please listen to me. Hear what I am saying, for the love of Christ. We have come so far,” You said, firmly squeezing his hands in yours as if somehow that would snap him out of it. “Whether you choose to believe or not, we’ve only come this far because of you. You have done so much for us. It’s why we trust you, why we feel safe with you. Me and Ellie, we belong with you, Joel—not with Tommy, not with anyone else. We need you, okay? We fucking need you. Do you understand me, Joel?”

Joel exhaled the breath he’d been holding shakily, leaning down to be closer to you. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against yours as he tried to even out his breathing.

Rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs in soothing circles, you lifted your head and lightly pressed your lips against his forehead.

“We’re going to finish what we started,” You murmured quietly against his skin, feeling a slight shudder rack his body as a single whimper escaped him. You squeezed his hands again. “Together, Joel.”

[xcherryerim]

Roommates Conflict

Mike Schmidt x afab fem!reader

word count: 3919.

warning: NSFW 18+, sexual tension, roommates to ???, stuck fetishism (the reader is stuck on the couch), consensual sex, porn with a plot, SoftDom Mike (little hints of submissiveness tho), pet names (princess, and baby), no use of y/n, in the middle of sex apology / love confession, a bit of fingering.

This is my first time writing smut so please let me know how it was so I can improve. If there are spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. My first language is Spanish.

summary: After fighting with your roommate for a month, you decide to discuss your issues with Mike but, your plans don't go accordingly, and then...Mike finds you stuck on the couch.

credits: @/kithsune for the separator

Mike has been your roommate for seven months now. At first, you thought sharing an apartment with a grown man and his little sister was about to be hell. Surprisingly, everything worked out. Mike was responsible and clean, and his sister was easy to care for. When you finally thought Mike was the best roommate imaginable, things quickly shifted.

You’re not sure if it is the long hours Mike must work or his lack of sleep making him grumpier and prone to irritation, but for the past month, the routine has been this: When you wake up after Abby is off to school and it’s just the two of you, Mike snaps, scolding you for forgetting to clean a few dishes, not finishing drying your laundry, not taking the trash out the week you were supposed to, etc.

You barely opened your eyes, and he was already being a bitch. Then, around 6 a.m., you waited for him to get home after his shift and pointed out that he was a hypocrite since he hadn’t done any major chores himself. Sometimes he pretends you aren’t there, he hisses, or he just accepts the truth and does the chores half-assed.

Today, however, you have a break from your usual responsibilities. And luckily, Abby is with her aunt for the day. Abby’s birthday was a few days ago, and Jane forgot. To keep up the façade of being a perfect aunt, she promised to take Abby to Disneyland, aka the fair down the street. How sweet.

You don’t mind, Abby. She is quiet, but a well-mannered kid. However, you wanted alone time with Mike to discuss the heated tension between the two. You decided to clean the apartment and do his chores for the day, like the dishes, sweeping the floor, throwing the trash, and even going grocery shopping so he didn’t have to go tomorrow. You knew he needed a break, too.

You finished the chores ten minutes before Mike would get to the apartment. When you sat on the old, washed-out couch, you felt a pointy object poke your lower back. The item slides down, going to the inside of the couch. A light sigh escapes from your lips as you turn, placing your knees on top of the sofa seat. You let both of your arms inside the couch, trying to find the mysterious gadget. After a few minutes of struggling, you catch it. You can tell it’s Abby’s gaming controller. She lost it a long time ago, so you know she’ll be happy to play on her console once again.

When you try to free your arms, it does nothing. You used your body force to pull away, but there was no use. You were stuck. You still insisted on doing anything to let you escape this embarrassment, and the thought of Mike seeing you like this sent shivers down your spine. You knew he would make fun of you until one of you moved out. With your strength running out, you pulled once more. No use. Loud steps filled the room, and you feared that your worst nightmare had just come true.

“What the fuck?” His eyes were wide open, a blush running across Mike’s unevenly shaved face. He tried to act as usual, but his mind was running wild. It didn’t help that he had a small crush on you that he tried to avoid and that he started to develop a new fetish. People being stuck.

“I’m stuck.” You answered, rolling your eyes at Mike. Is he always this annoying?

He stood there, not doing anything, but his eyes glimmered at you like he was admiring some piece of erotic art.

“Help me!” You demanded, but Mike just seemed overwhelmed. He walked toward his room. His knees are wobbly as he takes each step. You could hear noises like he was desperately looking for something. After a minute, the noises were gone, and the only thing you could hear was your heart beating like you had never felt before.

“Mike, help me! Mike?!” You were losing your patience. After some hesitation, Mike walks awkwardly towards the living room, his eyes never meeting yours fully.

“What?” He stuttered. Mike tried to use his usual monotone, but it came off as anxious.

“What do you mean, what?! Help me!”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

He got next to you, wrapping his rough hands around your wrist, slightly pulling.

“I’ve tried that. Is there no use?”

“Then what else do I do?” He sighs, his hot, heavy breath melting into the thin skin of your neck. You felt your body starting to shake like it had some sort of anticipation for him to just...

You let out an aggravated groan and shake your head like it will remove those naughty thoughts of you and your roommate. This whole situation is getting worse by the second.

“Well,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “I think... I might have an idea.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, a warm smile appearing on his face, which felt unusual. You swore you had never seen him smile like that before.

You look at him suspiciously. Why did he ask if you trusted him? You weren't stupid. He always tried to mess with people in some way. But the longer you stayed like this, the more uncomfortable it became. 

"Fine. Do what you want. Just make it quick, please. This is humiliating as it is."

Mike swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "Okay," he said, nodding once. "Hold on tight," Mike whispered before getting behind you, his fingertips shaky as he slid his hands on your hips.

You let out a small gasp as your body prickles at Mike’s touch. He pressed himself against you, his body heat enveloping yours. As he tried to pull, his hardened member hit your ass multiple times. You could feel Mike’s heart racing against your back.

You didn't want him this close, but you couldn't deny that it felt nice in a weird, twisted way. As Mike grips your hips harder, using more force than before, your brain stops functioning for a second, unable to stop you from letting out a soft moan that you were desperately trying to avoid vocalizing out loud.

Mike froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't expect you to react this way. The moan sent waves of pleasure through his body, making him even harder against your ass. He tried to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t want to imagine himself pounding you as you were stuck, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second.

“I’m sorry!” Both said it at uneven times.

“Let’s just ignore what happened and help me get off.” At this moment, you wish you could crawl under a rock and die, but you’ll probably get stuck there too.

Mike chuckled lightly, then nodded at your words, trying to clear his thoughts. He took a deep breath before sliding his hands back onto your hips. This time, he pulled with all his force, grunting as he tried to free you from the couch. The pressure building inside him couldn’t be denied, and it was clear that he was struggling to contain himself. With that, as his bulge caresses your ass, he lets a loud, desperate groan out of his dry lips. You gasped as one hand was finally free.

“It’s working…” As much as you want to hate this feeling, it’s making you feel some way. You wish you guys could forget about this so he can fuck you hard against the couch. Unintentionally, you let your ass follow the rhythm of his pulls.

Mike's mind was a mess of lust and confusion. He couldn't believe the legs in front of him were shaking in need. He was so focused on freeing you from the couch that he didn't even notice how his hips were moving in a pattern.

"Almost there." His voice was a mix of care and exhaustion. As you feel your hand slowly get loose, you decide to speak.

"Look, we clearly are... avoiding the fact that we’re really turned on right now.”

Mike’s attention suddenly went to the words being spoken, his breath catching in his throat, trying to process them. You're right, he thought. They were both so turned on by this, and they couldn't deny it any longer. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke.

"I know," he whispered. "But we have to stop."

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he continued, trying to sound calm and collected. "Once we're out of here, we can... we can do whatever you want."

“No.” The simple answer made him still. “Once I get out, we will be too embarrassed to even look at each other. You can’t see my face right now; I can’t see yours, so... let’s do it now.” You suggested. It felt humiliating; you hated that you sounded so needy, but for some reason, Mike had that effect on you now.

Mike was terrified and excited. He had never been so high on lust by someone before, and the thought of finally having you beg him to fuck you right here, in this awkward position, with your face buried in the cushions, was driving him crazy. It is like his darkest fantasy is finally going to come true. Without any thought, he removed his pants rapidly and slid a condom down his shaft.

Mike takes his hands up to your sides, gently caressing your skin as he slowly pulls you back towards him. His cock rubbed against the thin fabric of your shorts, which slightly hugged your soaking folds, eliciting a moan from both of you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

Mike nodded slowly, his breath coming in short, unsure gasps. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against your ear. "Then let me show you how much I want you." He removed your shorts slowly and steadily. As soon as your underwear was removed, he licked his fingers before settling them in your folds. 

Mike’s hands were always something you stared at in secret when he wouldn’t notice, and now his rough, manly hand is wrapped around your most sensitive areas. The heat building up inside of you from just his touch alone was hunting.

"Please," you managed to croak out as he teased you mercilessly. Mike chuckled lightly before finally giving in and sliding his long fingers into you. You moaned loudly as he started moving them in and out, hitting all the right spots that made you feel pleased. His free hand reached down to roughly fondle your breasts through your shirt. You arched your back into his touch, begging for more. But instead of giving you what you craved, Mike pulled away suddenly, leaving you panting heavily.

Before you could ask why he stopped so suddenly, you felt his firm grasp forcing you to spread your legs. Your entrance was wet and inviting to him. Mike gently pushed his hips forward. His cockhead pressed against your tight cunt, and you could feel him throbbing with need. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, before slowly pushing forward. It wasn't long before you started to whimper harder. The smell of the combined arousal filled the small room, fueling him even more.

Mike moaned loudly, feeling you give in to him. He thrust his hips forward, burying deep inside with one swift motion. Your warmth engulfed him, and he couldn't believe how good it felt. 

"Fuck,” he whispered in your ear. "You feel so good." His raspy voice and uneven breaths made a high-pitched whine escape from your lips. As a response, Mike leaned closer, making his member fully inside you as he nibbled your ear.

“Was this your plan all along? Is that why you started to wear those slutty shorts more often?”

You tried to choke some words out, but the feeling of him inside you like this was so ecstatic and addictive that the only thing you could do was take him as he placed.

He started to move, his hips rolling back and forth in a steady rhythm. “You didn’t answer me.” His hot, sweaty body overpowered yours. “Use your words for me, would you?” he asked, his voice as delicate as his touch. Mike’s hand found the freed hand of yours, intertwining his fingers like he had to hold on for dear life. Every time he pulled out, only to push back in, he could feel you clenching around him. It was the most intense feeling he'd ever experienced. His breath came in ragged gasps as he lost himself by being inside you while you were helplessly stuck. 

The only thing you could do was shake your head side to side at his question, but the real answer was more complicated than that. The first time you wore shorts, it wasn’t intentional, but when he saw you with them, he seemed to listen to you with more attention as you scolded him for not doing his chores that day, so you started to use them in your favor from time to time.

Mike chuckled at your clear lie, and he started to speed up, your body pressing against the couch more intensely as he pounded you harder.

You didn’t imagine Mike being so good with his dick. It is not like you know his sexual life, but in your eyes, he seemed the type to not go around sleeping with people. His life is too stressful for him to even care for his own needs. Maybe it's all pent-up horniness.

Mike's eyes were closed, his face twisted in pleasure as he took you with long, deep strokes. He couldn't believe how good it felt to finally have you like this. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but he couldn't help himself. He was lost in the moment, completely consumed by his desires.

His hand started to smack your behind. His slaps weren’t too strong to hurt you, but enough to make you gasp. As he increased the speed and started to smack harder, you let out sounds of pain and pleasure. “You can take it, baby, it’s okay,” Mike said, his calm voice contrasting his vile actions before slapping your ass one last time.

As he continued to thrust, he leaned down, biting your shoulder, almost like he wanted to hide his whiny moans. "Shit," he groaned again, pulling out of you slightly before pushing back in with a rougher force. "You're so tight."

“You need to stop pulling out... it’s cruel.” You said in between cries, his length making you feel lightheaded as if you could almost see stars.

Mike's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you. Without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty. You could feel him throbbing against your ass, aching to be inside you again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he leaned over, his chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I can't help myself."

“What?!” You stuttered; the sudden emptiness felt like hell.

“Do you always have to be an asshole?!”

Mike's heart broke at your words. He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't help himself. He needed you too much.

"No," he replied softly. "I don't."

His hands travel slowly from your hips to your chest. Cupping your breasts through your oversized shirt. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he lost control again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice quiet. "I know I've been an asshole this past month. There is no excuse for my behavior but—fuck!" Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the back of your neck. His tip pressed against your entrance again, and he whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

"Please forgive me," he said as he kissed your neck desperately. "Let me repay you for my bad behavior."

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you squeal. Your knees felt weak, and the air seemed to be overwhelmingly steamy. The only thought you have in your head is Mike pleasuring you and driving you to your limits.

With no response from you, his hands let go of your chest and quickly went to your shoulder. The sudden movement made you completely free from the couch edges. You immediately look down. The realization of what you guys were doing just settled in.

“Just look at me, please.” With a light force, he pulled you to face him, his body above yours. He is a mess. Red face with anxious teary eyes, sweat coming out of his forehead and traveling to his neck. He was a complete utter mess because of you, but you couldn’t deny the sight of him like this was so dreamy.

“Please, just forgive me.” Mike’s knees quickly touched the ground as his puppy eyes looked up at you. “I've been an asshole to you because I like you, and I know it’s wrong because we’re roommates, but... damn it. “His eyes shifted to your thighs, shaking in need, but the only thought in his mind was him being wrapped in them. He coughs, trying to regain composure.

After several moments of silence, Mike finally found the strength to speak, his heart racing faster than ever before. "I... I apologize for everything," he managed to croak out. "I'm sorry, but please, please let me feel you again." His voice cracked slightly as he reached out tentatively towards you, wrapping his arms around your leg in an embrace.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept his apology or leave him there alone. But then something changed inside you. Maybe it was just seeing how vulnerable he truly was, but you decided to relent. Reaching over to gently place your hand on his cheek, he pulled closer until your bodies finally connected once again. "It's alright," you whispered, giving him a small smile. “I sort of like you to-" Mike didn’t hear your confession. As soon as you said it’s alright, his arms picked you up with ease, making his way into his room.

He placed your body in his bed. “There you go.” He had an ear-to-ear smile. Mike turned on his nightstand lamp. The room was lit up slightly as the sunrise was shining through the windows, but the lamp brought more clarity to his room, which was tidied up nicely. If he was so obsessed with keeping his room clean, why couldn’t he do that with the apartment?

You find him scattering for something desperately. Lube. Once the lube is finally in his hand, he crawls into the bed with you, placing his swollen lips from all the biting he had to do to remain quiet into yours.

From the corners of your eyes, you can see him placing some lube on his palm and lightly spreading it across his cock, lightly stroking himself. A light whimper was vocalized as he kissed you. With one final stroke, he gets on top of you, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face as the thought of finally getting to see you lose your mind while his cock is inside you sends him waves of pleasure. Mike then looked at you with pleading eyes, asking for permission to continue, which you allowed.

This time, he didn’t hold back as he buried himself into your tight walls. The sudden coldness of the lube makes you shake. The combination of the lubricant and Mike’s hot member is driving you wild with desire. Making your hands dig into his back and your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer to you.

At your action, Mike picks up the pace, his hips moving faster and harder, his cock slamming into you with each powerful thrust. His cockhead contracts and releases, sending pleasure through your sensitive spot repeatedly. He groans louder, his breathing becoming heavier as he loses himself in the rhythm of their passionate lovemaking.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.,” Mike said it under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself.

“Mi- Mike.” His confession made your heartbeat follow the same speedy rhythm as his thrust. Your eyes were wide shut as your fingertips dug into his back.

Mike whines, and his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks that would likely turn into bruises later. You were not going to be the only one marking him. Mike wanted you to remember this. He then increased the speed of his thrusts, his hips moving faster than ever before as if he needed this release just as much as you did.

His rhythmical motion created a wet slapping sound that echoed around them, filling the room with the sounds of your lovemaking. His breath was raw against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of saliva along your collarbone. His tongue traced your jawline, nibbling and teasing your earlobes before returning to your mouth for a deep, passionate kiss.

He moaned again, his voice hoarse with desire. "Oh god, you feel so fucking good, baby." As Mike said this, he picked up the pace even more, his hips slamming against yours in a relentless rhythm. His cockhead rubbed against your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“I’m close.” You announced it with hesitation.

Bucking his hips harder, pushing his member deeper into you again and again with no mercy. "Cum for me, princess," Mike murmured. "Let me make you feel good. "Let me please you.” 

Mike’s words were like magic, his cock hitting your G-spot in perfect rhythm, driving you over the edge. With a loud, primal cry, your body convulsed around him, and you felt yourself climaxing intensely. Your tight walls contracted powerfully around his thick member, milking him dry as he continued to thrust inside of you.

As your orgasm subsided, Mike followed suit, his climax hitting him like a freight train. His cock twitched violently inside of you as he whined. His hold on your waist loosened slightly, but he didn't pull out just yet. Instead, he rested heavily on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“So…” You said it awkwardly as you patted Mike’s head. 

“About the chores...”

Mike chuckled lightly, his lips forming a dumb smile as he looked up to you. 

“Yes, I’ll do them now. I promise.” Mike rolled his eyes and then placed his hand on your cheek. Caressing it with his thumb. “And… I’ll be a better roommate for you.” 

You nodded. “Thanks, Mike.” 

“I noticed you cleaned the apartment... So let me get you cleaned up.” Mike stood up and walked to his bathroom. You could hear the water hitting the bathtub. As you peeked to get a better glance, Mike turned his head to meet your gaze. 

“Let’s have a bath together.” He said this as he disappeared from view to grab a foaming bubble bottle.

“And who knows, maybe we could do round two.” Mike’s tone was cheeky and playful. He leaned into the door, looking at you up and down. Proud of how messy he made you. 

“Come on.” Mike smiled as he went to reach your hand, walking you into the bathtub.

FIN. Hope you guys liked it. Help me choose my next smut here!

Thank you so much for reading.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Should have told her

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Synopsis: While being secretely in love with you since joining Jujutsu High, Nanami never admitted his feelings to you. Only after you nearly die in a fight and are on the brink of death, he begins to realize how much you really mean to him

Warnings: injury, death, language

This is not fair. You are such a talented jujutsu sorcerer, your abilities even surpass his own. But apparently, not even your skills were enough to save you from getting severely injured.

They said it would be a grade 1, a curse you could eat for breakfast. Maybe a few hours and you’d be back. Yes, absolutely no problem for a grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer like yourself, Nanami knew that all too well and trusted you when you smiled with nothing but determination and confidence at him before leaving.

But it wasn’t a grade 1. A special grade curse appeared. You fought back with all your abilities, ready to die on the battlefield in order to exorcise it and safe over a hundred people from certain death. But that was too much for you. Satoru came just in time before you got punctured and ultimately killed. Yes, he saved your usually so efficient ass from certain death. And now you’re laying here, unconscious since exactly 7 days, 3 hours and 18 seconds. Unconscious and severely injured, on the brink of death.

“You need some sleep, Nanami. (y/n) won’t be helped if you collapse next to her bed”, Shoko suggests, her very own tired eyes filled with concern when looking at your lifeless frame.

She thought you’ll die the second she laid eyes on the severe wounds that almost pierced your abdomen in half. You were lucky that Satoru brought you here so fast. One minute more and you’d be dead by now. God, the look on Nanami’s face when he caught a glimpse of you, covered in your own blood and hanging from Satoru’s arms like you already took your last breath. It broke her heart seeing him like this, completely shattered by sighting the woman who everyone knows he secretly loves since joining Jujutsu High like that.

“It was a special curse. How is that possible, Shoko?”, he groans, head hanging in his nape.

“I should have just gone with her.”

“No one but Satoru would have been able to help her out. You know that”, Shoko reminds him.

“It’s like back then. I can only watch and stare in awe”, he mutters through the towel that covers his face.

Shoko’s heart skips a beat. She knows exactly what he’s referring to. They always knew the incident from a few years ago still haunts him. How devastating it must be for him to go through all of this again, to see you in the same situation, not sure if you’ll make it.

“Unlike then, we can save (y/n) now. I’ll do anything to make her survive.”

Back then, Nanami had no chance to protect Haibara from certain death. You were so devastated when you found out your classmate didn’t make it, the two of you were like siblings. Always confident, constantly optimistic and cheerful. And even though Nanami would never admit it, he constantly admired both of you for the ability to stay positive in a world this cruel and unforgiving. Fuck, he should have told you how he felt, that your smile makes his world stand still and that he adores the way you embrace his left arm when walking next to him, the touch sending shivers down his spine since more than 10 years. He should have told you way earlier that he can’t get you out of his head, not even after he ran away in an office job to escape his feelings. You are the light in his life, one of the striking reasons why he returned to be a jujutsu sorcerer. But right now, this light seems to slowly fade away, without him telling you a single word about his true feelings towards you.

“I should have told her!”, he cries out, jumps out of his chair and throws it across the room.

Maybe it’s too late now. Even when you wake up, you may not be able to recognize him. Or maybe you don’t want to see him anymore.

“Let’s eat some cookies when I return, yeah?”

“(y/n), I certainly won’t waste my day eating cookies with you.”

“Too bad, but more for me. See ya!”

Oh, how badly he wants to eat cookies by your side right now. Nanami would give everything to sit with you on an abandoned bench away from the hustle and bustle of Jujutsu High, hold you in his arms and watch you eat, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. And you loved sunsets, the ones that paint the sky blood-colored.

“Looks like apocalypse”, you always commented, completely mesmerized by the play of colors above your head.

What he would give to hear your voice calling his name once again, nobody pronounces it like you do.

“Nanami, there you are!”

Woah, Nanami, that suit makes you look like a snack!”

“Ohh, don’t look at me with those eyes Nanami, I know you are thrilled to see me!”

If you only knew how thrilled he was.  If you only knew how your words make his knees go weak and the tips of his ears heat up in an instant. If you only knew how your sight alone makes his day better, your warm smile following him into his dreams and chasing away his nightmares.

“I bet she already knew for a long time. And that she feels the same”, Shoko rudely interrupts the train of thoughts that rolled over him.

Impossible. How would you know? After all, he did his best to push you away in order to hide his feelings so well that it seemed like he has none. Surely she only says that because she wants to comfort him. Pathetic. Nothing could comfort him expect that you finally open your eyes again.

“She even looks cute when she’s unconscious.”

Satoru’s appearance in the doorframe catches Nanami off guard. What the hell is he doing here? Oh right, he saved you. And you two know each other as long as Nanami knows Gojo himself. Apparently even Satoru cares enough about you to check on you.

“How’s she doin’?”

“Not much changed. Her heartbeat is stable and her wounds are taken care of. It is up to her if and when she wakes up again”, Shoko briefly explains.

“If? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s (y/n) were talking about! She’s always been a pain in the ass with her determination and unshakable confidence!”

“How are you able to joke around when she’s laying right there, fighting for her life? Don’t you care about her at all?”, Nanami snaps at him.

Pure anger crawls up his veins. How can he? How can he come here and tear stupid sayings when you possibly won’t make it? Even Satoru should be sad about what happened. After all, he knows you since more than 10 years, the two of you were always joking around.

“I know (y/n) well enough to be aware of the fact that she won’t let herself die from something like that and you should too, Nanami. Trust her with this one.”

“I already trusted her with this fucking mission and that’s how it turned out”, Nanami barks back.

Gojo positions himself next to the puny figure of Nanami, a small smile creeping up his face. Kento must have thought he hid his feelings from the world when in reality, everyone at Jujutsu High knows that he adores you. Even if this incident was tragic, there is perhaps something good about it. Maybe he’s finally realizing how much he cares about you.

“(y/n) would never die without bugging you one last time. After all, she loves you too much for that.”

Nanami’s eyes widen at the sound of Gojo’s words in his ears. You? Loving him? You have always been the sweetest woman around Jujutsu High, the students of the past years constantly falling for your charm, beauty and brain. Fuck, sure you could even have Satoru if you wanted. So, why him?

“Stop making fun of me and get your ass out, Satoru.”

“Grr, so rude! But okay, I’ll leave you alone with your sweetheart. Tell me when she’s awake. See ya!”

And with that, Satoru disappears behind the door as fast as he came, alongside Shoko. Nanami signs and slaps the rag on his face away without heeding it. His gaze falls upon your peaceful face, chest rising and falling at steady pace. Gojo is right, you really do look cute. Like you’re sleeping and throwing your tired eyes at him any moment, revealing your most striking smile when realizing that it’s him even though he doesn’t deserve it. But you won’t wake up. And probably your pain is too much to smirk over it.

He can’t help but rest his head on the soft mattress beside your body and grab your cold hand. You simply can’t die on him. Not now, not when he didn’t tell you about his true feelings yet. God, he is so dumb for gatekeeping this shit since 10 whole years. Why did he always shut himself up when his happiness was right under his nose? Maybe because he firmly believes that you don’t feel the same way. How could you, though? He is the complete opposite of you, quiet when you are loud, serious when you are goofy, negative when you are positive. Yes, the two of you are the definition of contraries. And apart from that, a simple man like him doesn’t deserve a striking woman like you.

His grip around your hand tightens, tears start to pool his eyes. Why did all of this happen? You promised everything would be fine, he even bought you a pack of your favorite double chocolate chip cookies. And now you’re laying here, holding onto for dear life. Nanami is no man of tears or sadness, but when it comes to you…You truly hold the most special place in his soul. If you leave, a part of his heart will die too. Maybe he should quit being a jujutsu sorcerer. Working in an office might suck, but at least he won’t have to go through pain like this.

“Where are my cookies?”

He is immediately pulled back to earth, heart beating out of his chest while gazing at you wide-eyed. You are awake. You just said something. Your beautiful but tired orbs are directed towards him, a small grin creeping up your face.

It’s like Nanami forgets how to breathe for a moment when reality kicks in.

“(y/n)?”, he breathes out.

“I told you you’d eat cookies with me. Knew you couldn’t resist a date night with me”, you mumble with unusual weak voice.

There it is. His name out of your sweet mouth, just like usual. As if nothing ever happened.

He can no longer hold back. Before his head tells him to back up, his hands cup your face and his lips crush into yours. Fuck his thoughts, fuck the others. He will never forgive himself if he never did that, never got to taste the sweetness of your mouth, never held your face like that. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering shut while sparks fly around you. God, how often you whished he did that. For years you loved him in silence, accepted the fact that he might not be interested in you romantically. But even though pain seems to eat you alive and your weak senses are still trying to process that you are awake, you are probably the happiest woman on earth right now.

“Don’t ever do something like that to me again”, he hisses into your lips.

“Not planning to.”

“But if it makes you do this…maybe it’s worth another shot.”

God, your breathtaking smile. Nanami can’t remember a single moment in his life that made him happier than this one, tears rolling down his face carelessly. You are awake. You didn’t forget him. You’ll survive. And you want him too. A striking woman like you really wants a man like Nanami.

“Wish you did this sooner. Or maybe when I don’t feel like dying, y’know?”

“Could have done a move yourself”, he mutters into your neck, arms embracing you gently.

“Oh no, I’m way too shy.”

You melt into his touch. It feels so good to finally feel his arms around you and his body against you apart from rough training sessions. Even though you have no idea why exactly your frame feels like it’s on fire or how you’ve ended up in Shoko’s hospital room in the first place, you aren’t able to question it at the moment. You loved Nanami since meeting him all these years ago, attracted by his abilities, brain, sense of humor and looks.

“How are you feeling? The pain must be really bad”, he comments, eyes scanning your body like a professional.

“Can’t say I ever felt worse. My tummy feels like it’s falling apart”, you reply, a hiss escaping your mouth when he pulls the blanket that covers your body down a little.

“Well, it literally almost fell apart. You were sent to a mission, should have been a grade 1. It was a special, though. Satoru came just in time to safe you. If he had come just a minute later, then…”

A closer look at his face reveals that he hasn’t slept for days. Your heart sinks into your chest. He shouldn’t feel this bad because of you.

“Hey, look at me.”

You lift your weak fingers to caress his face gently, tired eyes gazing over you.

“I feel like shit but I’m fine.”

“I thought you’d die. I-I thought that I’ll…never get to tell you that I love you.”

“I would never die without telling you that I love you too. And without another kiss.”

Nanami can’t help but smile down at you. Down to the woman he loves, the woman who never loses her optimism, to the woman who is so fucking strong that she seems to survive anything. He admires and adores you more than his heart can take. And the fact that you love him too…Is this real? Is he dreaming again? He just has to lean down, lips only inches apart from yours. He needs to taste you again, to make sure that this is real.

“You cryin’, Nanami?”

Both pairs of eyes dart up immediately, your eyes light up when realizing Satoru is standing in the doorframe.

“I’ll kill you, Gojo”, Nanami hisses threatening, cheeks redder than ever.

“Hey shawty”, you greet him, completely mesmerized by the pack of cookies he carries under his arm.

“Please tell me those are for me.”

“Shoko actually forbid me to feed this to you. Something about a hole in your stomach or so. Why are you so irritated, Nanami? Did I steal you the show? He’s your boyfriend now, (y/n)? It really took you 10 years to finally kiss the girl you love, Nanami?”

“He’s my husband”, you explain proudly.

“Get your ass out Satoru”, Nanami moans.

You grab his hand and press it mildly, gazing at the man above you with stars in your eyes. Yes, he is yours now. And you’ll do the devil to let him go again.

[robinhobiii]

only you | mafia! y. jh

summery : every one wants him. But he only wants one person.

He sighed for the millionth time today. He just wanted to leave. Too many people were trying to talk to him and it’s draining him. His eyes were slightly droopy but unbeknownst to him, it made him look more sultry like. Making more and more people attracted to him. His mysterious and slightly cold aura captures anyone coming his way.

“Jeonghan! There you are!” Another one of the socialites said as she waltz over to him. His face remained indifferent as she pushed up against him slightly.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” She whispered seductively.

God, he was really going to kill Seungcheol.

“Can’t, have work tomorrow.” He said courtly, trying to move away.

“Come on, hannie. It’ll only be for a little bit.” She pouted. He cringed at the name that disgraced her lips.

He pushed her slightly for her to land back on the other chairs and made his way out.

There’s only one woman that could call him hannie.

Y/n.

As he drove home, he remembers the memories with her. How brilliant her smile was and how shy she used to get at his flirty remarks. Her soft hands that would caress his face after a long day and how she would nurse him back to health after working for hours on end.

Oh, how much he misses her and how he longs for her warmth again.

Everything went well until she found out his real occupation. She gave him an ultimatum of leaving the mafia family or her. He obviously couldn’t choose. These were the things that made him happy. How could he only pick one? But in the end, she left. There was radio silence from her end.

Nothing.

She even moved work places and her apartment. If Jeonghan wasn’t in the mafia with a lot of connections, he would’ve never found her.

Her face remains engraved in his head. He wants to be in her arms again and hear her sweet nothings after a long day. It’s been harder these days to forget everything. It’s like the universe was taunting him with everything that reminds him of their time together.

. . .

To be fair, he didn’t want to be in the mafia family. He just wanted to make sure him and his sister didn’t die. His parents borrowed money from a different mafia family and they couldn’t pay it back. So his family was always on the run and wanted to essentially survive.

One day when Jeonghan was picking up his sister from school, his parents were brutally murdered. In that short 15 minutes of him picking up his sister, they died and couldn’t even plea to spare them. He received a phone call from the neighbor saying they heard loud screaming from his house. Sensing it could be bad, he dropped his sister at her friends house for the time being. He made his was home and saw the devastating sight. On the wall, written his parent’s blood, states that they need to get the remaining 50 million won by next Friday. He shuddered as he sat down on the couch. Although he was sad to see his parents like this, he couldn’t even shed a tear. At the ripe age of 18, he was now the sole guardian of his sister.

He needed to get out and get out fast. Where was he going to find that much money in a short amount of time? So, he knew what he had to do. And so he walked to the house at the very end of the street and knocked in strategic way to alert them. The door swung open and revealed a tall man with glasses.

“Wonwoo…”

“I’ve heard the gunshots.”

Jeonghan said nothing. “I’ll join.”

“What?” Wonwoo said, taken aback. “B-but, I thought you-“

“I have no choice. Me and my sister can’t keep running. We need him to protect us. He can avenge me and sister.”

He was the big boss, Choi Seunghyun, formally known as T.O.P. He was running the harshest and ever growing mafia family, Big Bang. The name Big Bang comes from the people that go out with a bang when nothing is paid back to them.

“Hyung, think it through. You’ll never be able to leave. I’ve been there for two years already and I made the biggest mistake.”

“I have to. For me and my sister.”

And so, Yoon Jeonghan was secretly sworn into the family and to build trust and a bond, TOP ordered his men to kill that mafia family that harassed Jeonghan and his family. Even he says it’s to build trust, it’s just something to emotionally blackmail Jeonghan to not leave.

By the time he was 20, a riot within the family was started. An internal war was far worse that the ones with someone else. “The family is not going to last any longer. We’re all going to die.” Joshua said.

“We need to leave and leave now. So many people already left.” Jihoon said.

“No.” Seungcheol said.

Everyone looked at him.

“We’ll start our own clan and be better than them. Most of us have no one waiting for us at home. For some of us, this is the only family we have.”

“But hyung-“

“There’s no buts. Trust me. I’ve been by Seunghyun’s side for the last 5 years, I know what to do. Just trust me.

And they did trust him. They became Seventeen, one of the most wanted group across world. With each members unique ability, the group prospered and because much bigger than imagined.

. . .

Because of the his charming looking and his ability to finesse anything in a conversation, Seungcheol made him one of their main undercover says to find informations.

That is how he met the beautiful woman that is Y/n. She worked as a journalist and would often spend her time at the cafe, across the street from her work place.

By fate, they met. They were there at the same place and at the same time. She caught his eye the moment his eyes landed on her. How focused she was on the paper she was writing and how she didn’t even look up. Everyone was flocking to get a glimpse of him, while her eyes remained on her laptop.

He smirked. How interesting.

He sat right in front of her and said, “Is this seat taken?”

Again she didn’t look up and mumbled out a no.

As he sipped his coffee, he looked at her. Everything about her was perfect to him. Is this what love at first sight was?

“You know staring is rude, right?” She finally said.

He was surprised for a second before that infamous smirk made its way to his face.

“I can’t help that a beautiful lady is sitting right in front of me.”

She blushed slightly.

“You’re weird.” She laughed.

God, he could hear that for the rest of his. Her laugh rang in his ears in the most beautiful way possible.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“I need to leave.” She said with a smile as she picked up her stuff.

“You won’t tell me how I’m weird?”

“Maybe next time.”

Jeonghan smile widen as he hear that.

Next time. He couldn’t wait for it.

. . .

Soon enough, they were chatting at the cafe almost everyday. Jealous eyes scanned them as they were lost in their own world. She actually talked to him! He was starstruck by her and day by day he was falling deeper. Her small little habits never left out in Jeonghan’s mind.

After three months of talking, he knew he needed to make this official. She needed to be his. He took her to country side and showed her around the beautiful mountain village. She didn’t know this, but this was where Jeonghan grew up. But she loved every second of it. He finally took her to one of the nicer restaurant and asked her.

“Y/n. . I know that we’ve known each other for a short three months, but I feel like, I’ve known you my whole life. I just can’t imagine my life without you in my future. So, will you be my girlfriend?”

She smiled and leaped into his arms. “Of course! Don’t even have to ask.”

Soon enough, three years passed and Jeonghan was the happiest he has ever been. He never told her in those three years that he was in the mafia. He wanted to maintain her sweet innocence and not scare her away.

But that came to an end, when she was cleaning their shared home. She went to throw away the trash when she saw some files with Jeonghan’s name one them. So, she went to his office to put them on his desk, but she was shocked to his a gun and knives on his desk. She doesn’t know how long she was there, but she there for a while for Jeonghan to find her there. He couldn’t even come up with an explantation as to why there was a gun on his desk. He could’ve made an excuse for the knives but he knew he has to come clean about it to her.

“Hannie, what’s this?”

“Baby, let’s talk about this tomorrow”

“No! We’re talking about this right now. What is this?!”

“Angel. . . come with me.”

He took her to the other side of the room and sat her down on the couch. He sighed. “I’m . . . In the mafia. . and I know you’re confused but believe me when I say that I was going to tell you eventually when the time was right.” He was lying. He would’ve never ever told her. “I. . .wha-what?” She said.

He couldn’t read her face and was getting anxious. “Talk to me baby.”

“I. . . I’m heading to bed.”

She slept in the guest bed that night. Jeonghan couldn’t sleep as the bed felt too cold without her. Little did he know that this would be the last time she was ever be in the same house as him. The next morning rolled around and she was silent. But he had work to attend to. “I’m leaving, baby.” He leaned down to kiss her but she moved her head. He moved back in shock.

Later that night, when he came home, he noticed that she was thinking. He was nervous for what she’ll eventually say.

“Jeonghan.”

That sent shivered down his spine. In those three years, she only called him Jeonghan a handful amount of time. And each time he disliked it. “Yes.”

“I’m going to give you a choice. And you need to pick one.” She sighed. “Either you leave the mafia or . . leave me.”

There was silence after she said that.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Angel, you have to understand I can’t just pick o-“

“You have to! I can’t live with a man that kills for a living.”

“Listen to me-“

“JEONGHAN! JUST PICK ONE!”

It was silent again. Never does she ever raise her voice at anyone but she couldn’t help herself.

“Baby. . .” He started.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at her apologetically before he answered. It was Seungcheol.

“I need you to come to the office now!”

“Why? What’s wrong?!”

“Just come, it’s too long to explain but unit three is injured. We can’t get a hold of Soonyoung. That last response we got was from Chan at 10:56 pm. Come now.”

He rushed up but paused and look at her again.

“We’ll finish this when I get back.”

The door shut close and she got her answer. She scoffed slightly, “when I get back.”

She packed her things and called friends for help. They came and loaded somethings in their car and she packed some in her car well. She turned off her phone and made her way to her friends house.

By the time he came home, it was 6:42 am. She was no where to be seen. He called her phone and it went straight to voicemail. He was hysterical as he slipped to his knees. Yesterday night would mark the last day he sees her.

. . .

That was almost six months ago. It haunts him everyday. Oh how he regrets going out, but the other part would regret breaking the brotherhood that they created. Day by day, he yearns for her. His other members noticed him and tried to comfort him but he didn’t want comfort, he wanted . . no he needed her. Everyday passed by in a blur and he wanted that clarity again. When he met her, it felt as the all the problems in his world disappeared. He didn’t know how he lived without her before.

“Meeting in 5.” Jihoon reminded everyone in the common room. Slowly Jeonghan made his way to the conference room.

“The next month will be very busy, so pay attention, especially you Jeonghan.” Seungcheol started. Jeonghan just started tune everything out. He wanted to only live in his memories. Wanting to live in his make believe so that the harsh reality won’t make him cry more. Joshua got a glimpse of him slipping, so he elbowed him and that got Jeonghan out his daydream. He silently sighed.

“And Jeonghan will be there ahead of time to listen to everything.”

“Ugh, again.” He whined out, annoyed.

“Everyone sessionally wants a piece of you, so you’ll be going in.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at that. Not everyone wanted him.

. . .

His hooded eyes scanned the room to look make sure the target left so he could finally leave. Once he was sure, he made his way out. He stopped at a bar on his way home. Everyone’s eyes were on him. One drink turned into two drinks turned into three. Before he knew it, he was extremely drunk. He then heard a familiar laugh. He whipped his head to look for that comforting sound.

There she sat with all her beauty. Her beautiful lips up in a smile as she drank with her co-workers.

God, he wanted to leave before he did something stupid. As he made his way out, Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It hurt so bad seeing him get so drunk and she didn’t even help him. Although she tried to forget him, and hate him, she couldn’t. She did too much with him to forget that man. His love still linger through her.

She missed him so much. She wanted to run back into his arms, but she knew that if she did, she would invite the bad into her life. His karma will come to collect his debt and she doesn’t want to be in the middle of it.

“Go” Her supervisor said.

Y/n looked up at her and shook her head. “I can’t.” She said as a few tears escaped. “You clearly still love him and want him. You should try to work it out.” They knew she broke up him but not for him being in the mafia. No. She told them that it just didn’t work out anymore. They were obviously shocked and didn’t believe her but didn’t pry as she was in a bad state. “I think I’m going to head home.” Y/n said as she paid for her share.

. . .

He woke up with a pounding headache and almost had no memory from last night. He did remember seeing her. He could never forget her. Jeonghan was having regrets. Maybe he should’ve talk to her? No. That could’ve gotten ugly.

He went on with day as normal but he was thinking about her more than usual. He wanted to talk to her again. He knew that it’ll never happen and it’s only a distant memory. He made it to work and Seungcheol made his way to his office. “Jeonghan, tonight is the night, be ready.” He said.

That night came faster than expected. And all 13 boys made their way to the club. There was a set plan and by tonight there should be one less person on this earth. He made his way to bar and ordered a whiskey. And made his way to one of the sofas. Many girls tried their ways with him with no success. He was only there as an extra pair of eyes, so seducing these women for information was not needed. As some girl was kissing his jaw, he saw her. She was wearing a black dress that was beautifully complementing her body. Her shy eyes scanned through crowds of people, looking for someone. The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to next to her.

He pushed the girl softly and made his way to Y/n. She was facing away from him and he was a few feet from her. His hands naturally found their way to her waist. She was slightly startled and tried to push the hands away before he said, “It’s me, angel.” She was frozen and said nothing. He took this as a sign to continue. One of his hand came up and brushed her hair out of the way to get access to her neck. He placed gentle kisses along there and she let him. Soon her hands were placed on top of his.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” He whispered in her ears as he placed some kisses there as well. And they left the club and Jeonghan was driving them to his apartment. The car ride was silent but he didn’t mind. Just being in her presence was enough for him.

. . .

He opened the door for her and let her in. He then got a glass of water for her and him to drink. Once they were done, they only looked at each other. They both longed for this moment again. “Maybe this was a mistake. I should leave. ” She softly said.

“N-no! S-stay.”

He sighed and said, “Angel, I owe you an explanation. That night I left, I had an emergency. The boys were in trouble and I needed to ensure their safety. I know in that moment you must’ve felt unimportant. I should’ve sat you down and talked throughly that morning. I should’ve set it straight when I saw you that morning. And to answer your question. . . I can’t leave them. It’s a bond we built on hardship and trust. We are each other’s family. We can’t ever be apart. But I also didn’t want to leave you. When I came back, you were gone. I wanted to come to a compromise because you are the light in my life. I only want you to look at me. I just want you.”

She looked at him and didn’t know what to think. “I don’t want to live my life in fear that I’ll be killed. I want to live normally.” She said.

“You can. No one in the mafia world knows I’m even affiliated with seventeen. We can work it out.” He said as he held her hands.

“I . . I want it to work too but I’m too scared.”

“We can take it slow and figure everything out, like old time.”

She smiled at that. “Yeah, like old times.”

“Let’s head to bed and plan out everything tomorrow, hmm? How does that sound?” He said as he brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Sound perfect.”

. . .

He gave her some of his clothes for pajamas and boy did he miss that sight. She softly smiled at him and made her way to bed. When she was comfortable, Jeonghan joined after turning off all the lights. He hugged her and placed a kiss on her head.

“We’ll be okay.” He whispered.

[geralts-yenn]

Fairy tale

Modern AU Melot (Tristan&Isolde) x OFC x Mike (Hellraiser)

summary: Mike, Mel and Nina celebrate their first anniversary

warnings: 18+, minors dni! polyamorous relationship; bisexual partners; vaginal sex; maybe voyeurism/exhibitionism, but I don't know if this is really a thing that needs a warning within a polyamorous relationship; masturbation, vaginal fingering; use of a butt plug, anal sex (m/m)

word count: 4,2k

A/N: I feel like those three have been living in my head for decades already but exactly one year ago, I published Hearts Too Big

So, happy anniversary!

There's a tiny quote from a story in there that isn't my own, but I think the original author doesn't mind ;)

Inspo board

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My heart won’t stop racing in my chest, no matter how calming the surroundings should be that are flying past me. I steer my bike around the corners of that gorgeous mountain road, but neither the stunning views we get to see nor the clean air that smells like forest can distract me from my rambling thoughts.

My gaze falls onto the mirror, focusing on the bike behind me. I can’t see much of them. Their helmets hide their beautiful faces. But still my heart constricts as I realize once again that those wonderful two people are mine. Something I will never get my head around.

Exactly one year ago, they had put me through hell and then showed me heaven. I will never forget that first kiss I shared with Mel at that beach, and how Nina kissed me only seconds after. It changed my life in the best way possible. I never even dared to hope that I would get to be that happy in my life.

So that’s why it is so important to me that everything this weekend is going to be perfect. I still can’t believe they trusted me to organize our anniversary trip completely alone. They really must love me. Or they are insane. But the latter is probably mandatory for the first to happen.

As soon as I killed the engine and put the bike on its stand, I cross the few feet between me and Mel’s bike and when Mel pulls his helmet from his head, I press my mouth on his. I don’t care if he needs air because I need him so much more. My fingers lace through his curls, and I all but devour him. Mel answers my desperation with a strangled moan into my mouth. God, I love this man. 

Finally, I pull away, searching for Nina to get a taste of her, too, but she is already gone. Mel and I both chuckle when we hear her excited screams. 

“Oh my god, babe! There’s a hot tub. And a fire pit. And the view over the lake is so beautiful!”

Mel gets off his bike and walks up to Nina, pulling her to his chest. I follow him and hug both of them from behind, pressing my lips on their necks one after the other.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mike! How did you find this?” Nina turns her head, her eyes full of love as they find mine.

I only grin and shrug. I don’t want to tell them right away. We have the whole weekend to talk. And do other things.

And that’s why I rather grab Nina’s jaw and kiss her hard, like I wanted to do in the first place.

After I have my fair share of kisses that I needed after hours of being alone on my bike, I finally go and grab our stuff and unlock the door of the cabin. 

“Try not to get naked for another thirty minutes, peanuts! I’m still waiting for some groceries to be delivered.”

Mel presses a kiss on my cheek and pulls one of the bags from my shoulder. 

“As if you’d care if anyone saw us naked,” he teases. And yeah, he is right. I don’t care at all.  I know they are mine.

I lean against the wooden walls of the cabin, the guitar I found in the living room in my lap. It’s a beautiful instrument, and it is tuned perfectly. The whole cabin is like it was made for us. It is so cozy, but not in a tacky way. I have to admit, I am impressed with Mikey. He’s done a good job planning our weekend.

My fingers brush over the strings as I play some chords without even thinking about it. My whole focus is on my two lovers, who are giggling and kissing in the hot tub, a few feet from me. They asked me to join them, but right now, I am happy sitting here in the sun with the guitar and just watching them. 

Maybe that’s a little creepy, but sometimes I like being an observer. I can’t get enough of seeing them so happy together. It makes my heart sing. 

Mike pulls Nina on his lap, and now they are making out like there’s no tomorrow. I can see they are about to lose control any moment. Nina is moaning and Mike's hands are everywhere.

Like I predicted, Mike gets impatient and manhandles Nina to get on her knees. Leaning on her elbows on the deck, I have a perfect view of her tits. But what’s even better is the way her face changes when Mike presses into her. It’s a perfect mixture of desire and love, and I am totally aware that her eyes are fixed on me.

There’s no way I can focus on the guitar any longer while I watch Mikey thrusting into Nina with increasing intensity. He leans down over her, his hand on her throat. I wish I could hear the words he whispers into her ear through gritted teeth. 

I put the guitar down and, instead, my hand slips beneath the waistband of my shorts. I free my cock and start to stroke myself. Adjusting my rhythm with Mike’s, I’m going slow at first, but then I increase my pace when he starts to pound into our girlfriend faster and harder.

They are both loud, and their moans and grunts only fuel my own lust. I can barely hold back my release, but I don’t want to come just yet. So I ease my grip a little and try to focus on Nina, her half-lidded eyes, her teeth digging into her plump lip. She’s so beautiful like this. Mike raises his head and flashes a big smile at me. The asshole winks and doesn’t turn his eyes away from me as he talks to Nina, this time loud enough for me to hear.

“Show him how you look when you come around my cock, baby!” 

Mike slams into Nina’s pussy like a madman, his grip on her hips so tight, I know she’s going to show some marks later. Nina’s screaming, rolling her eyes, her whole body shaking. This is it. My own orgasm rushes through me so hard, my vision blurs as I shoot all over my hand and chest. 

When my breathing is back to normal, and I open my eyes again, I see the two of them are back to kissing. I get up, letting my shorts and boxers fall to the floor. Looking down at my sweaty, sticky chest, I decide I need to cool down. So I walk down the stairs to the small wooden dock. After checking the waters, I jump into the lake. It’s cold, but not freezing. Nina is going to hate it, but that doesn’t stop me from calling her and Mike to join me.

I take the plate that Mel holds out to me and dry it, then put it back into the cabinet. Mel grabs my towel to dry his hands, so I guess we’re done with the dishes. Mel and I gladly offered to do them after Mikey had spoiled us with the most delicious dinner we had in a while. 

I round the kitchen island and sit down on the floor, where Mike just finished preparing our board game on the small coffee table. I take my cards, but the moment I want to check them, Mel drops next to me and leans in for a kiss. 

“Hey, no cheating!” I tell him as I push him away, and he has the audacity to look fucking cute as he pouts at me. I move a few feet away from him, hiding my cards, because I don’t intend to let him win tonight. Mel’s a sore looser and I enjoy kicking his ass very much. Mike grins at me as if he could read my thoughts. Which he probably can, he knows us both so well. 

To prove my point, he asks: “Ready to make Mel cry, Nina?” 

His signature smirk is plastered on his handsome face. I hold my hand up for a high five as an answer. 

Mel shakes his head playfully. Then he gets up again and pulls his shirt over his head, suspiciously slowly. Mike and I both groan in unison. 

“You are playing unfair here, Mel, and we haven’t even started yet.” Mike complains. But Mel tuts at him and points to the flames flickering in the fireplace.

“I wouldn’t have to strip down if someone…” he uses the strategic pause to turn his gaze to me, “...wouldn’t be that cold all the time. But as long as we have to put up a fire in the middle of July, you two have to endure the pain of seeing my naked chest. I’m deeply sorry.”

Two hours and three wins over a very grumpy Mel later, we move to the bedroom. The bed in here is nowhere as big as the custom-made bed in our apartment, but I don’t mind. I’m sleepy and don’t care if I have to sprawl over my two boyfriends in here. They’ll live. 

Mike is already snuggled up inside the covers. He looks cute as a button as he tries to hide the yawn that slips him when I crawl into his arms. 

I’m already half asleep when Mel joins us, but his efforts to fit into the bed wake me up again. He apologizes, even though it’s not his fault. Mike lets out some adorable sleepy noises and then tells his boyfriend that he should read fairy tales to us to make up for the disturbance. I’m pretty sure he’s just joking, but nevertheless, Mel picks up my book from the nightstand and opens it. 

He scans over the lines and lets out a small chuckle. I remember where I stopped reading earlier and have to admit it puts a little heat on my cheeks. Mel clears his throat and starts to read in a voice, even deeper and more gravelly than usual:

“He drags your panties to the side and two fingers slip into your pussy with embarrassing ease. “God, kitten, you’re so wet already,” he groans. “You’re such a perfect little slut for Daddy.” All you can do is moan while he pulls his fingers out and moves them to your clit. The tight circles he draws around the swollen little pearl make you writhe your hips, leaning into his touch as he keeps rhythm and pressure steady at an intensity that’s just shy of enough to make you come.” *

Mike is groaning next to me and whispers into my ear: “That’s the fairy tales you read all day, baby? With a straight face? You’re killing me!”  

And while Mel continues to read, I feel Mike’s cock growing harder against my ass. All of this has just as much effect on me, so I arch my back to press into him. Gladly, Mike takes the invitation. He turns me to lay on my back and presses my knees apart. The same way as Mel had read moments ago, he drags my panties to the side and brushes his fingers along my slit. 

Soon, I'm a withering mess, Mikey’s finger pumping into me, his mouth hungry on mine. But then Mel’s voice stops abruptly, and the next moment Mikey is gone, and instead I have Mel’s tongue exploring my mouth. He bites into my lip, then pulls back so he can look both at Mikey and me.

“I thought you two were tired? I'm trying to make you fall asleep, but that doesn't look like you are about to doze off anytime soon!” Despite the scolding words, Mel's tone is amused. 

Mike chuckles. “Babe, if you wanted us to fall asleep, you should have chosen a different book.”

Mel turns to Mike with a devious grin on his face. 

“Well, so if you’re both awake again, you two could pay some attention to me now. I already let you have some time for yourself in the hot tub.”

The memory of what we did out on the deck earlier makes my pussy clench. Mike feels it around his fingers and moans in response. But his eyes are locked with Mel’s.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had joined us,” he tells him, and Mel’s grin gets wider.

“Yeah? You need some dick?” he asks, his voice raspy.

I rather feel than hear Mikey’s breath hitch before he answers:

“I do!”

Mel gets up on his knees and pulls down his boxers. His erection slaps against his abs.

“Then help yourself!” he says, his smirk now going from ear to ear.

Mikey lets out a needy whine. He licks his lips as he moves his mouth to Mel’s middle. A gentle lick from the base to the tip lets Mel shiver.

“I think someone is done with the solo action for today,” I tease. My fingers circle my swollen bud as I watch them.

Mel’s look falls on me and he groans. I don't know if it's a reaction to what he sees or to Mike’s hollowed cheeks around his cock. I don't care. It's hot.

Mel lets us play for another few moments, but then he pulls Mikey up to him for a hot kiss. They whisper into each other's ears, and then they both turn to me. Oh, I think I’m up for a good time.

Mel crawls up to my side and pulls my top over my head. The moment the girls are free, his mouth is on one nipple, sucking hard. His fingers take care of the other one and I gasp when he pinches and rolls it.

To add to the sensations, at the same time, Mike drags my panties down my legs. In seconds, he's between my widespread legs and runs his length through my folds.

I whimper and moan. They are teasing me, Mel with his mouth and hands, Mike with his dick. He drags the tip slowly around my entrance, up to my clit and back again.

I lift my hips impatiently, but Mike doesn't give in. It takes Mel to interfere. He turns his head to watch for a moment, before ordering:

“Get into her already so I can give you what you wanted in the first place, Mike.”

That does the trick. Mike slams into me and I let out a cry of pleasure. While Mike starts to move inside me, Mel gets up to stand behind him.

“Wow, Mikey, you really planned every aspect of this trip,” he says, chuckling. I can imagine what he's talking about, and when a butt plug lands on the bed, I get my confirmation.

“Are you ready to take me?” I hear Mel and the answer is groaning from both of my boys.

Mike stills his hips and I hear the telltale sound of lube getting squished out of the bottle.

Then it's the increased tension in Mike’s body and the twitching dick inside me that let me know what's going on. All three of us moan in unison as Mel pushes inside.

Some rustling wakes me, and I blink a few times sleepily to adjust to the brightness. It must be early morning because the room is filled with golden light. When my sight gets more focused, I start to smile. I am greeted by the view of a very sexy tattooed chest, rippling muscles accentuated by beams of orange falling through the curtains. What a pleasant way to wake up. Almost as nice as the way I fell asleep last night.

For a moment, I think about greeting Mikey, but then I decide against it, watching silently as he pulls his shirt over his head. Yeah, creepy, I know. But I can’t help it. I don't want to ruin this peaceful scene. 

Mike apparently hasn’t noticed I’m awake because he turns and tries to step down the stairs as noiselessly as possible. Which isn’t very noiseless - because it’s Mikey. 

Yet, when I turn to the other side, I see that Nina is still fast asleep. I kiss her on her temple and then try to get up without making noise, myself, with more success than Mike. I wander into the bathroom, take a quick shower and brush my teeth.

When I go downstairs, I find Mikey leaning against the open patio door. I step behind him and wrap my arm around his waist, resting my hand on his chest. He feels warm and firm and my heart expands at the sensation of it. Mike nuzzles into me as my lips brush over the light stubble of his throat, while I breathe in his scent.

“Hey!” he greets, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Hey yourself!” I press another kiss on his neck. Then I raise my eyes to look over Mike's shoulder. The sun is rising over the lake, painting the surroundings in warm colors.

“It’s so beautiful. Perfect. I don’t know what you had to do to get this cabin, but thank you.”

Mike turns his head to me, one eyebrow raised.

“Do you imply I prostituted myself for this?” 

I can’t tell if he’s amused or offended, probably a little bit of both, but anyway, I need to apologize because this wasn’t in any way what I meant to say.

“No! Never! Sorry! It’s just - this must have been expensive. You didn’t have to do this. You don’t have to spend your savings on us.”

Before Mike can answer me, we hear footsteps and then Nina is next to us. She wriggles in between us and brushes kisses over Mike’s and my chest.

“Hey, is there a possibility to get some coffee?”

Mike takes the invitation to run off without answering me and pours three cups of coffee. Running around the kitchen, adding sugar and cream for Nina and a disgusting amount of sugar for himself, he seems to be fidgety, noticeably so, even for Mikey. 

I fear I actually hurt him with the stupid remark and open my mouth to apologize once more, but Mikey grabs the mug handles and steps out onto the deck with our coffee.

“Come on, peanuts, let’s get down to the shore.” 

Nina and I exchange a look, but then we follow him down the stairs to the lake. There’s a wooden patio set and Mike drops the mugs on the table, only spilling a little bit of coffee. Nina and I sit down, waiting for Mike to join us, but he’s not interested. Instead, he walks up and down along the dock.

“Mike!” Nina calls. “For the love of god, would you sit?”

I don’t even know why I’m freaking out again. There’s nothing that should get me that nervous. Those two people who are watching me right now like I’m nuts, they love me. I don’t know why, but they do. I don’t have to worry about anything. If I learned anything in the last year, then it’s that I can open up to Mel and Nina. So I finally do what Nina ordered me to do and sit down next to them.

“Sorry!” I grab my coffee and drag out the moment a little longer by taking a huge sip. Of the coffee that is still fucking hot. They both watch me incredulously as I swear.

“I need to tell you something!” 

Nina’s eyes go wide and Mel jerks back. Yeah, great start, dickhead! Now they think I cheated on them or some stupid shit.

“Don’t panic, it’s nothing bad - I think.” They both visibly relax, though they still look confused, so I go on.

“A few weeks ago, Tom called me.”

“Your brother?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t take the call at first. But he didn’t stop calling and texting. So I thought it must be something important.” 

Mel interrupts once more, more concern on his face than should be, ever. “Everything okay with your parents?”

I let out a sad laugh. “Like I would care?” 

It’s harsh, but it’s the truth. And honestly, I’m glad I’m at a place now where I don’t care anymore. 

I must have been quiet for too long because Nina flaps with her hands in the air, a quizzical look on her face.

“Sooo?” 

“Yeah, uhm, he wanted to meet me. And I said okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nina again, of course. She’s always mad that Mel and I don’t communicate enough, and she’s right about it.

“You were both working hard that day, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just thought I’d go meet him, listen to his bullshit, then go home to throw myself into your arms in the evening.”

”But?...” 

I shouldn’t make pauses long enough for them to interrupt me.

“There was no bullshit coming from him,” I laugh. “He apologized, honestly. I mean, he was crying! For fucks sake! My super manly, super stoic, very hetero brother sat in a café with his very bi brother, showing emotions openly for everyone to see. It was wild!” I grin like an idiot, I know, but that experience was something I didn’t see coming, ever. In my family, we don't do feelings. Except for me, of course, I do plenty of feelings, all the time. But I don't count, my parents would agree. 

Nina and Mike both don’t smile back, Nina even frowns. 

“Still - why haven’t you told us, Mikey?” She sounds hurt. And Mel nods in agreement. Shit, I'm fucking this up again.

“Because, my brother brought me a gift. Well, not exactly a gift, but anyway. I decided to make it a surprise for you.”

I take another sip of coffee. Gladly, it isn’t hot like the seven hells anymore. 

“Come on, Mike, get to the point!” Mel rolls his eyes at me.

“Sorry! So, my brother got into a fight with my parents because of me. He told them that they should support me, that I deserve to be part of the family. Shocking, I know, but apparently he must have found out he has a heart.

But of course, my parents wouldn’t listen. Then Tom said to them that they at least owe me my part of the family assets. They bought Tom a house when he got married and he also got some shares, I don’t know much about that stuff…  

Anyway, Tom told them they should at least give me money to make my life easier. Which was just as successful as his first plea. My father only kicked him out and told him he wouldn’t want to hear about it anymore. But Tom felt bad for me, so he wrote them a letter threatening to take them to court on my behalf.”

Both Nina and Mel look shocked.

“You wouldn’t do this, and he can’t do it without your agreement, right?”

I nod. They know me way better than anyone in my family. I would never want that.

“Yeah, but just the threat was enough. My parents would never want to get anything about this shit go public, which would be the case if there was a lawsuit. That’s why they wrote a big check with my name on it, and they signed over one of their properties to me.”

I give them a big grin, but they still both look quite puzzled.

“My first instinct was to reject it. So I wouldn’t have to be thankful or some shit. But then I thought fuck it! Why should I punish myself by not taking what is mine? It’s not like they would care either way. And I kind of like this cabin…”

I look into their faces, and I’m glad I don’t find any negative emotions there. I was a little scared that they would judge me for taking the money. Exhibit A: my reaction to Mel’s comment earlier.

“Well, yeah, so, that cabin is mine! That's what I wanted to say. Surprise!” I shrug awkwardly. 

When no one says a word, I go back to rambling.

“I spent the last few weeks remodeling it so it doesn’t look that much like ‘filthy rich assholes with a stick up their asses’ anymore and more like ‘us’.”

This finally gives me some laughs and I feel more comfortable immediately. 

“Oh Mikey!” Nina jumps into my lap and presses a kiss onto the corner of my mouth.

“This means we can spend a lot more time fooling around here! Oh my god! This is going to be some fun.” 

I laugh, that’s the perfect reaction.

“We can start right away, if you want,” I tell her.

Mel chuckles and gets up from his chair. He leans down to me and kisses me hungrily.  Then he pulls away and cocks his head.

“One thing: can we please have a bigger bed? Nina kicked me in my ribs all night.“

I snicker.

“Yeah, I earned some nasty elbow checks, too. I thought maybe we could build a new bed like the one in our apartment together.“

“Then there's no more objections from my side,” Mel tells me before his lips are back on mine.

*) source: Under orders - part 4 by @raccoon-eyed-rebel

[usetheeauthor]

I Still Get Jealous (MDNI +18)

• Possessive!Boyfriend!Arisu Ryohei x Sub!Reader

Summary: Arisu doesn’t like the idea of you spending time with mentor and friend, Chishiya, who’s assisting you on your PhD dissertation. He develops a possessive attitude which prompts you to prove your loyalty to him.

A/N: Thank you again, @amortentiaz for the request! I’m so glad Arisu’s getting some love! This is a spicy one with a fluffy, happy ending. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: jealous!Arisu, angst, fluff, smut, sub/dom dynamics, daddy kink, graphic language, slight!tipsy/drunk Arisu, traffic light bdsm system, spanking, hair pulling, biting, markings/hickies, finger sucking, light degradation kink, brief nipple play, creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, orgasm denial/delay, p in v (unprotected), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, sex positions (full nelson, doggystyle, reverse cowgirl), lots of pet names (sugar, prince, baby and so on), fluffy aftercare/happy ending

They say there is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy. Arisu’s love for you results in the consequence that he loathes seeing you with any other man aside from him.

It’s not like he’s unreasonable. He’s fine if you have guys friends…just not guys like Chishiya. It just wasn’t a fair fight. Chishiya’s really smart, a doctor, AND—the kicker— he was handsome.

And, sure, Arisu felt as if he had ‘2 out of 3’ of those things listed but what he felt really set himself apart from Chishiya was how cool Chishiya was. He didn’t have to try. Women and even men are naturally drawn to him just based on first impressions alone. Meanwhile, Arisu was an unsociable loser who would rather play video games for hours on end than strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Why did you have to choose Chishiya of all people to help you with your dissertation? And now you’re in a residency program working in close quarters with him, too?!

Arisu could see it now. He paces back and forth in the apartment the two of you shared creating hypothetical scenarios.

What if….One day, you and Chishiya are working in a room together when the two of you ‘accidentally’ touch hands. Next thing you know, the two of you are making out and ripping each other’s clothes off in a room meant for a patient needing heart surgery!

He shakes off that silly imagination. No! You wouldn’t possibly do something like that to him. You love him. You wouldn’t just cheat on him but what if….you broke up with him instead?! That way you wouldn’t feel guilty for being with Chishiya instead.

Arisu bangs his head against the island table in the kitchen when he decides to call his friends over for some drinks and very much needed advice.

“You should just tell her how you feel,” Chota begins. “You’d be surprised to recognize what you discover about yourself when you speak about your feelings with her. Shibuki and I are going strong because she taught me how to be more open.”

“No offense, Chota, but that’s pussy advice,” Karube remarks. “Whenever my girl does something I don’t like, I lay down the law. I put my foot down,” He slams his beer on the table for dramatic effect. “Works every time.”

“Is that so? Because last time I checked, she made you cry that one time she threatened to leave you. Didn’t see any laws being laid down.” Chota chuckles.

“Up yours, man.” Karube bites.

“You guys aren’t helping me feel any better,” Arisu groans. “The girl of my dreams is slipping away as we speak. For all we know, Chishiya’s already asking for her hand in marriage.”

“You could always try rebounding if she does dump you. What about Usagi?”

“No way! She’s only a friend. Y/n’s all I ever wanted. I’ve imagined my future and she’s always in it. I won’t let her go.” Arisu says, determinedly.

Chota pats his back. “Then you’ve gotta fight for that future, brother.”

Arisu nods, a lot more confident in his decision. With another shot of hard liquor, he plans out exactly how he’ll approach the situation with you soon as you step through the door.

—————

You turn the key in the door of your apartment and the first thing you’re met with is empty bottles of liquor. Arisu is sprawled out on the couch, asleep.

You smile, shaking your head, knowing that he probably was hanging out with his best friends. Removing your heels, you tiptoe over to him. Crouching down on your knees beside him, you place kisses all over his face until his eyes flutter open.

You soothe his hair, whispering a greeting. “Hello, my sleeping prince.”

Instead of being met with a smile, you were given a blank expression. “Hey.” He says, dryly, speech slurred.

“I’m sorry? Did I do something wrong?”

He sits up. “Where have you been? It’s late.”

“It’s 6:00 noon,” You giggle. “And you know I’m getting some help from Chishiya with my paper. It’s like 300 pages. I’m dying.”

“Chishiya, Chishiya. Seems like he’s all you ever talk about now,” Arisu chides. “Does he even know we’re together?”

“Where is this coming from, love?” You say, rubbing his arms with your soft, patient hands.

“You’re mine! Okay? You belong to me. We’re supposed to be happy and in love. I know I’m not this lady killer like Chishiya but I know that I can love you better.”

“Ryohei…baby,” You say, shaking your head in disappointment. “I am yours. You don’t have to compare yourself in any way to Chishiya. I don’t see him at all in the way I see you. You tilt my world off its axis whenever I’m near you. Even after two years together, I still get butterflies.”

“So you won’t leave me for him?”

“Never! You’re my sweet prince,” Still on your knees before him, you pry his legs apart to place yourself in between them. Leaning over his clothed cock, you lick a long stripe on the crotch area of his pants. “I love and serve you and you alone.”

He strokes your hair. “I wanna mark all over your body. That way when he sees them, he’ll know I’m the one responsible.”

“Please do, my prince.” You moan out.

He leans forward, capturing your lips and slips his tongue down your throat. Your fingers entangle in his dark locs, tugging him down to you when you felt like he was trying to pull away.

His hand collects your hair in a ponytail, pulling your lips away from his. “You don’t think I’ll let you off that easily, do you? I’ve been planning a punishment for you.”

“But I’ve been good.” You pout.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t liking the attention from him? Like you weren’t trying to make me jealous,” He yanks at your hair again causing you to whine. “You like when I get like this, don’t you?”

You whine out again, squeezing your thighs together to suppress the throbbing between them.

He yanks your hair once more, growling. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, I fucking love it when you punish me. Please fuck me.” You sounded absolutely wrecked and he hadn’t even begun yet.

“It’s gonna take a lot more begging than that to get what you want, sugar,” He lets go of your hair, patting his thighs. “Lay yourself across my thigh.”

You comply, lifting off your feet to crawl into his lap. Your plump ass perched up high enough for his hands to indulge.

“You remember your colors in case we need to stop, do you?” He asks while kneading your plush globes in his hands, marveling at its perfection.

You nod. “Green is a ‘yes’, yellow for ‘slow down’, and red is ‘stop’.”

“Good girl.” He purrs. Then, he pulls your panties to the side just enough to dip his longest finger into your sopping pussy.

You moan, clutching the couch cushion. “Fuck! That’s so good.”

“I don’t want to hear you.” He pulls out the glistening finger, shoving it into your mouth for you to suck on. With his other free hand, he slips two longer fingers into your core and pumps away.

You swirl your tongue around his finger, tasting yourself on it. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as his fingers deliciously flicked against a soft trigger within you. Your muffled moans get louder.

“You’re so loud. Quiet!” Pulling the finger from your mouth, he slaps the hand over your mouth. It’s clamped tight enough to assure your sounds aren’t heard. Of course, the action would also affect your breathing but somehow the lack of oxygen heightened pleasure to the point of euphoria.

You could hear your wet pussy squelch around his fingers, juices trickling down your inner thighs, onto the couch, and his khaki pants.

His erection pokes against your belly and, with you fucking back against his fingers, it begins to increase in its size. He licks his lips, lust splayed on his features while he watches you rut desperately against his fingers.

“You look like you want to cum, sugar?” He asks, mockingly.

You nod frantically, bouncing back against his fingers with rigorous intent. He’d long removed his hand from your mouth, you could’ve spoken up but with his skillful fingers buried so deep into you that was too much a challenge.

“That’s it, love. Use my fingers to get yourself off. So pathetic and desperate for it. Bet, you’re wishing it was my cock instead.”

His fingers do the famous ‘come hither’ motion within you and your legs begin to shake. You were on the edge, a stream of drool pouring from your tongue as you pant out like a dog. Your eyes cross and just as you’re within reach of the big one, he slips out of you.

You sob and scream your frustrations into the couch cushion, biting down on the fabric to keep from hurting yourself or him.

He sucks your arousal off his fingers, looking at you from the corner of his eyes while you glare at him. When he finishes them clean off, he smirks at you. “Sorry. But that was punishment #1.”

“#1? As in…there’s more?” Your voice trembling in fear.

“Uh-huh. And we’re going straight into your next punishment,” He strikes your asscheeks hard enough for you to feel it ripple. You hiss at the sting. “You’ve got 4 more of that to go, sugar. Count for me, please.”

Smack after smack, you’d count and your hungry cunt would throb in need in anticipation of his assault. You needed to be fucked badly. You’ll remain obedient. Anything to get him to finally give in.

He lands the final smack, the hardest of bunch. Your ass is as red as he hoped for. He soothes it, massaging each globe carefully.

“For your last punishment, I want you to suck me off. If you’re good for it, I’ll make you cum on my cock right after.”

You love how filthy Arisu’s mouth gets whenever he’s in the act with you. It’s a complete parallel to his usual shy and reserved demeanor. You slide off his lap enough so that you’re laying on your stomach over the couch seat, your hands in his lap. You fondled with the buckle of his belt then his zipper.

With your hand down his pants, you carefully pull him free. The thick two-toned length was hard to wrap your whole hand around the base. You flick a tongue against the pink head, collecting the salty precum on your tongue.

He moans, moving your hair out of the way so he can watch you take himself in your eager mouth. You lower your mouth over him, swallowing around him while he hits the back of your throat. Whatever your mouth couldn’t get to, your free hand would make up for it.

His head is thrown back against the couch overhead, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. You slurp up the excess saliva from his cock, spitting it back onto the base again and jerking him off.

“Ohh, babygirl,” Arisu groans. “Your mouth feels like heaven. I almost feel bad for the bastard never getting the chance to have you.”

You moan, sending the vibrations straight to his cock. You could suck his dick all day and never get tired. You’ve actually done that before while he played his video games.

“Shiiit! I’m gonna cum down your little throat.” He whines, thrusting forcefully with his hand cupping the back of your head. Then, he stills, cock rested deep enough to cut off your air supply as his warm essence shoots down your throat. You play with his heavy balls in the process, prolonging his orgasm.

“Fuckk yess.” He groans, feeling the way the muscles in your throat flex around him, swallowing every drop.

When you remove your mouth from his twitching member, he immediately places his lips on yours not caring to taste himself on your tongue as he sucked at it. You straddle him and sit directly over his stirring cock, drenched clothed core rubbing against the hardness.

He stands on his feet and carries you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. It surprises you every day the strength he possesses in such a slender body.

“We’re taking this to the bedroom so I can fuck what’s mine properly.” He says.

“Please, daddy.” You plead, head rolling back when he sucks at your neck as he leads you to the bedroom.

He throws you onto the mattress. “Take those clothes off. Then, stay on your hands and knees.”

You follow his orders, pulling off your clothes so fast you nearly tore at them in impatience. You are on your hands and knees, back facing away from the headboard.

His clothes are off and you’re given a moment to admire his physique. He does the same, circling around you as if to decide what else he planned on doing to you.

Arisu disappears from your vision and you feel the mattress dip behind you. You feel the back of his knees resting against your calves, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. Arisu was laid on his back, your ass just inches from his jutting hard cock.

“I want you to fuck back into me like this. Show me how badly you want me.” He said it in a way that he’d hoped to sound authoritative but instead it came out sounding like a whine. He couldn’t help his desperation for you, especially when you were this dripping wet for him.

Shimmying back so that your glistening pussy rested over his cock, you rubbed yourself back and forth on it. You reach a hand down beneath you, grabbing his cock to tease your entrance before you let it slip in.

The two of you groan simultaneously at the feeling of you stretching around him. “Oh, fuck! Ryohei…daddy please.”

“Go on,” He smacks your ass. “Ride me.”

You mewl, taking him in all the way so that your ass rests on his pelvic area. You start off rocking slowly against him. You can hear the familiar squish of his cock penetrating you deeper and deeper with each in and out.

Gripping the sheets beneath you, you use the leverage to slam down harder against him. He lets out a strangled cry that cuts abruptly and you look over your shoulder to see that he’s biting his lips.

“Please let me hear you, daddy. I want to know that I’m doing good for you.” You moan, sounding already so fucked out.

“You’re doing amazing, sugar. Love seeing your ass from this view. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He praises.

“Only yours.” You added, going fucking back into his even harder and the sounds of your plump ass colliding into him is thunderous.

“Shit, I can’t take it anymore.” He says. You barely register what he said until he sits up and brings your back to his chest, ass in his lap in reverse cowgirl.

Arisu takes your ankles in his hands, spreading your legs wide open. He plants both his feet against the mattress, jackhammering into your greedy wet hole.

“Oh, god!” You squeak, bringing your hand back to cup the back of his neck.

He takes this as a sign to litter your neck with hickies and you scream and writhe against him. He was too good. Expert level as if it were an actual game and the objective was to make you dumb on his cock.

Letting one ankle go, he tweaks a hardened nipple between his fingers as he fucks up into you. You begin to feel the familiar pressure build within you again and he senses this with how hard you clenched around him.

He drops his hand down between your legs rubbing your sensitive nub back and forth. “You’re getting so tight,” He whispers in your ear, teasingly. “You gonna cum?”

You felt a sense of panic rush through you. The mocking tone in his voice can’t be good. Was he really thinking of pulling away again? You began to cry real tears, nodding your head. “I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum, daddy. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’ll be yours forever. Don’t punish me!”

“Aww, sugar, I wasn’t going to take this away from you,” He pounds harder and rubs tight circles on your clit. “You… deserve it.”

Arisu punctuates the end of the sentence with two hard thrusts that hit against your g-spot. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes widening as you squirt your juices all over.

This surprises him as well, a guttural groan escaping his lips. He throws you onto your stomach and pummels away from above you. “Gonna fill up your tight little pussy. I’m gonna get you pregnant and full so everyone knows I did that to you.”

You both knew you were on birth control because neither of you could afford to have a child at the moment. Nonetheless, you begged him to fill you with his seed and scream out to the top of your lungs how you’ll carry his babies.

A few dizzying thrusts has you biting into the sheets and without you even expecting it, you cum for the second time that night. Arisu cums a split second after you, moaning shakily as if he’s on the verge of sobbing. He trembles from above you, jerky thrusts into your core to give you all of his cum. He stills then collapses, weight on top of you and cock still buried deep as you shook against each other.

“Ryohei?” You pant softly.

“Mhm.” He says, unable to form a sentence.

“How are you this good?” You giggle in a euphoric state.

“I’d say it’s the liquid courage. I am still a little tipsy.” He admits with a chuckle.

“No, baby…that was all you. I fucking love you.”

“I love you more.” He retorts, breathlessly.

“Not as much as me.”

“Not possible,” He laughs, kissing your shoulder before pulling off and out of you. You whine at the loss, feeling cold without his warmth. You try reaching for him. “I’ll be back, love. Just gotta get a washcloth to clean you up…and some fresh sheets.” He says looking down at the wet puddle.

Arisu returns with a washcloth and fresh sheets as promised. He carefully cleans the sticky mess between your legs, planting a kiss on your thigh when he’s complete. While he lays down the new sheet, you find one of his hoodies to dress yourself in taking in his scent around you.

Curling into his naked body as the big spoon, you littered kisses on his shoulders. Then, a realization hit you to address your feelings, too. “I get kind of jealous, too, ya know.”

“You do? He asks, dumbfounded, turning on his side to look you in your eyes

“Yeah. I mean, whenever I see you with any other girl like Usagi, Heiya, or Kuina…I feel so petty. They’re my friends, too, and I know they wouldn’t hurt me that way. But they’re all so beautiful and—“

He cuts you off, kissing you passionately. “I belong to you just as much as the other way around. Remember that. No one gets me like you.”

You rest your foreheads against one another, cradling each other’s hands. You stare into each other’s eyes and listen to the sound of the rainfall pitter-patter against your window in time with the beating of your hearts.

Arisu has his friends to thank for giving such great advice.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

A little medieval au thought I had a while ago and wrote this.

Roger and Rouge are King & Queen of a little Kingdom with both Shanks and Buggy as their adopted son while Ace is the heir to the Kingdom as neither Shanks or Buggy wished to be next King.

However when Ace was but a babe he was kidnapped from his cot in the middle of the night to be held for ransom but while escaping across the boarders into the another Kingdom, the kidnapper was attacked and during that Ace was lost in the forest, crying loudly.

He was eventually found by a young Makino, who took him with herself up the mountain to where Dadan lived. She agreed to look after Ace till his parents could be found, not knowing he was a prince and had been kidnapped.

When no one came forward to get him, Dadan raised him and upon seeing his spade like birthmark and thought about playing cards, coincidentally named him Ace.

Once Ace was old enough to travel to village where Makino lived, Dadan would send him down to run errands & help out a well teaching him how hunting.

All that time, Roger and Rouge never gave up on their child returning to them and still sent men out when they heard of rumours, however they need an heir so they named Shanks as their heir, who took this new responsible on his shoulders but really hoped that his youngest brother would return, he really didn't want to heir.

During his time living in the mountains he met a blonde boy name Sabo, who ran away from home and that how Ace gained a brother and when both boys were 8, Luffy had been dropped of by his grandfather who was an old friend of Dadan, as both his father and grandfather were worried that he would targeted for their positions/roles.

It didn't take long for the boys to become thick as thieves and then proclaimed that they were sworn brother having stolen some alcohol from Dadan.

Over the next 10 years, the brother honed their fighting and sneaking skills, as they would sometimes head to the next town over and fight thugs/anyone causing problems.

Both Ace and Sabo left when they were 18, Ace having heard stories from the villagers he decided that he wanted to join Edward "Whitebeard" Newgate army, a Duke and General of a neighbouring kingdom. While Sabo went and joined Dragon guild/organization after hearing & reading about what he does.

Having heard the stories of Whitebeard, Ace wanted to see if the man really lived up to his name, so as soon as he could Ace began demanding to face Whitebeard to see if the old man actually lived up to his reputation.

It took a few days of Ace demanding to fight with Whitebeard before he showed up and accepted Ace challenge. It went on for a fair few hours before Whitebeard had Ace on the ground, his naginate pointed at his throat.

Ace yielded with no other option and then told the Duke that he lived up to his reputation. After that every time Whitebeard came by Ace would try to attack him but was always ended up with naginate at his throat.

Soon Ace quickly rose through the ranks till he was offer the position of commander of Whitebeard 2nd division. It took him a while to accept the position as he felt he was still too new and someone who had been there longer would be suited better.

The people who were in the 2nd division told him to accept it as he has shown how hard of a worker he was and proven himself that the position of commander of 2nd was prefect for him. Hearing them all say they were happy to have him as Commander, Ace accepted the position.

For the next two year Ace proved himself over and over again to be the right choice for Commander of the 2nd division. Whitebeard told Ace that he was proud of him and asked the young commander to accompany him with a few of the other commanders to an event being held by old friends in another Kingdom.

The others commanders liked and enjoyed having him as a commander, though some of them would stare at Ace as if they trying to place him somewhere as there was just something about that him felt familiar but they could never figure out why.

While at the event Ace had expected to be introduced to new people by Whitebeard and make connections, what he hadn't been expecting is to be tackle the ground by Queen Rouge while walking through the palace gardens, the day after the event.

Ace was very confused and tried to calm the Queen down but it didn't work so he was had to wait till Whitebeard came who was happening to be talking to the king. Roger was able to coax his wife off of Ace but she refused to let Ace leave her sight.

Both King and Duke were at a lose for words, as they had never seen Rouge like that before and when Roger asked her about, she was blunt and pointed at Ace, saying she waited 20 years and she wasn't going to let him leave again.

Hearing that Roger knew what she meant and looked at her before asking if she was sure to which Rouge told him she knew that face as she stared at it every day, this only difference was it was black not blonde hair staring back this time.

Roger looked over at the young man and realised what his wife meant, and wanted nothing more to embrace the young but seeing the confusion over his face made the King stop himself. He looked at Whitebeard and asked if the two of them would come to his personal study in an hour to talk. Rouge tried to object to this but Roger was able to sooth his wife and said it was okay he would be back soon enough.

Whitebeard gave a nod and guided Ace away from the the couple back inside. Once it was just Roger and Rouge in the garden he wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close, as they came to realise that after 20 years they were close to having their son back.

In that hour Whitebeard explained to Ace the event that Rouge had been talking about and that had left Ace at a lose as to what to say, he had heard something about it when he was child but never paid any attention to it cause it didn't interest him.

When the four of them were in the Rogers personal study, Ace felt uncomfortable as both Roger and Rouge stared at him, but Whitebeard was standing behind him, with hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

Whitebeard is the one that broke the silence in the room, asking if there was anyway to confirm if Ace was indeed their son. Rouge then spoke of a birthmark that was in the shape of spade, that you would find on playing cards, on the left hip.

Upon hearing about the birthmark Ace froze, no one but Dadan, Luffy and Sabo knew about his birthmark, so to hear the Queen described shook him and couldn't get his mind around what this could potentially mean.

It became quiet again or least to Ace it was as his thoughts were so loud in his head it was stopping any other words from reaching him. He was brought out of his thoughts when Whitebeard gripped Ace shoulder very firmly and called his in a tone that made the young man react instantly.

He tried to stand but the hand on his shoulder stopped him so Ace looked up at him as Whitebeard asked him if was back with them again, and got a nod that he was. Ace was then asked if he had a birthmark that they described and he hesitated for a moment before looking at both King and Queen, giving a them a nod.

Both Roger and Rogue looked at him with hope shining in their eyes, as they asked if was possible to see it for themselves. Ace obliged and pulled the side of his trousers down where his birthmark was showed them it.

Upon seeing the birthmark, Rouge was up and in front of Ace, this was her son, stolen from her and lost for 20 years. She took his face in hand and smiled at him, welcoming him home at long last. Roger quickly joined and wrapped his arms around both wife & son, and hugged them both tightly.

The door of the study was quickly pushed open making a bang as two people entered, Shanks and Buggy the adopted sons of the Royal Couple, who looked out of breath as they looked at scene in front of them, with wide eyes as they're told Ace had returned to them.

Whitebeard smiled and made his excuse to leave, leaving the newly reunited family to themselves knowing there was going to be a lot for them to catch up on. The Duke chuckle to himself at the thought of telling his commanders why Ace looked so familiar.

Over the next few weeks Ace could seen with one of his family as they learnt about each other and how he grew up as well as his other brothers and adopted mother.

With how Ace spoke about his other family and smiling widely when he did Rouge had mentioned that she would like them. While missing out on most of his life, she was glad he had got to having a loving family and like to thank them for loving her son.

Over the weeks that Ace stayed in his home kingdom, it was discussed on what would happen with him now. Ace didn't want to leave being a commander for Whitebeard just yet so they came to the agreement that once Ace turns 25 then he returned to take up his royal duties and be crowned heir.

So while he got to stay with Whitebeard till he was 25, he was write often and come home when he could.

With everything settled for now, Rouge turned to the thought of potential partners for Ace. Hearing that both Shank and Buggy gave him a look that basically said 'good luck with that/You poor thing' but thankfully Roger was able to persuade her to hold off on that for now, which Ace was grateful for.

When Ace did finally bring Dadan, Luffy and Sabo to meet his newly found family and upon first meeting Rouge decided that they were also family now and enjoyed talking to Dadan about Ace and what he like growing up.

Seeing how Ace was with Luffy and Sabo made her heart feel so much lighter, at seeing how carefree was he was and just how much each of them loved each other.

While Rouge and Roger mourned missing out on watching their son grow in to the young man he was now, they were happy with how it had turned out as they got him back as well his brothers and adopted mother which brought them both more joy.

[juyeonszn]

BLAH BLAH

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒suggestive

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DNI yk all that jazz, mature language, younghoon being stupid, one bed trope 🙀, jacob is shirtless….. that deserves its own warning tbh, reader also is topless at one point but not for the same reason, reader is down bad for cobie, dry humping ig idk if it really counts but i’m including it anyway, this is kinda tame tbh but,,, the tension is there i swear!!

SUMMARY you swore you would never make any physical contact with jacob bae ever again to protect your heart. what the hell are you supposed to do now that you’re sharing a room?

MORE HELLO!!! she is finished 😼 finished her up in a day im impressed with myself ANNSNW ANYWAYS this is a request from my 100 followers event! thank u again moni (@zzoguri) bae i hope u enjoy this 🫶🫶 prompts used are: 10, 12, 13 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

You know, you weren’t entirely expecting yourself to fall for Jacob Bae.

To be fair, it was very hard not to. From his infectious smile, to his genuineness, he was honestly the complete package. Even before you became friends, it was difficult to not fawn over the guy. You would see him across campus every now and then, laughing along with his friends or something of that nature, and you always felt a tiny ping in your heart.

Then came Eric Sohn and Kim Sunwoo’s annual back to school pool party.

Naturally, parties were the bane of your existence. You could never fully enjoy yourself, what with the clusters of people in one house and the strong scents of both alcohol and weed. However, one of your gal pals managed to convince you to tag along just to say you’d been to one of the infamous parties.

That was your first mistake.

Two hours into your eventual demise, you found yourself swishing around the contents of your red solo cup on the backyard patio, your friends having long disappeared. You were bored out of your mind with no one to talk to and now a near empty drink. A creak of the wooden boards behind you had you spinning around so fast you almost got whiplash.

Jacob Bae gives you a smile, stifling a laugh when you almost spill the last couple sips of your beverage. He sits himself beside you, sighing in either content or relief— to this day you’re still not sure.

“Hi, I’m Jacob,” he extends a hand towards you. “I saw you sitting out here and thought I’d introduce myself.”

Just like they say in the movies, the moment your skin comes into contact with his, there’s sparks. It’s like a jolt of electricity is running along your arm through your nervous system, shocking your brain. From that moment on, you made it a personal mission to never touch him again, out of fear it would happen every single time and you might do something extremely stupid.

Now here you are, ten months later and still just as whipped as you were day one.

Your friends dragged you on a little road-trip just to get away for a bit at the start of the summer. You were nervous thanks to the fact that a wheel spinner decided roommates and you got stuck with Jacob. If anyone asked, you’d say you were pretty good at pretending like you weren’t hopelessly in love with your friend. You looked at him normally, rather than with the want to rip his clothes off and go at it like bunnies.

“Jacob and Y/N sitting in a tree K-I-S-S— ow!” Younghoon rubs his arm where you’d just smacked him, pouting at you. “That hurt, what the fuck?”

“That was the point, bozo.” You roll your eyes, watching Jacob swimming around in the hotel pool. You hug your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them. How could someone make something so simple look so attractive?

Tonight would be a true test of faith, the ultimate challenge of whether or not you could truly resist Jacob Bae’s charms. Even if you’d stayed in the same house or same general vicinity, you always managed to dodge sharing a room. There were the few occasions you slept over at his and Sangyeon’s shared apartment, along with everyone else in your friend group. They’d both offered up their rooms for whoever wanted to bunk with them for the night since there wasn’t much room on the couches. You always picked the couch.

But there were no separate rooms keeping you apart this time. There was no couch. Just two beds and a couple feet between them. Oh God. You would be changing in the same room. Jacob Bae would be naked within your reach.

You blink away the thoughts creeping up from the back of your mind. You couldn’t have that mindset sharing a room with him. Couldn’t that be classified as immoral? Disrespectful? Your brain had to stay pure or you might not survive this trip at all.

“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” Younghoon asks with an amused lilt to his voice. You give him a nasty side eye in return.

“I might as well have. I hope I keel over and die right now so I can join them.” You huff, your head bobbing up and down as you talk thanks to your knees under your chin.

Younghoon snorts, standing to shake his hair like a dog would after a bath. “You’ll be fine, dude. It’s not that serious honestly. Just think of this as, um, a team bonding exercise.”

“You’re a fucking clown.”

After about another hour of swimming, playing chicken, and other pool activities of that sort, the boys decide to call it a night. Thankfully so, because you had a long day of sightseeing ahead of you tomorrow. You gather your things and part ways for your respective rooms. Some were on different floors than others; you and Jacob’s for example was on the top floor. You don’t know why, but the guys were insistent on swimming first, prior to checking out your rooms.

You waddle behind him like a lost puppy, following him to the elevator. The whole ride up is silent save for the soft lo-fi beat playing over the speakers. Jacob is still very shirtless, a towel tossed over his shoulder haphazardly. What was its purpose? Couldn’t tell you since there were still droplets of water decorating his back.

Good Lord, you needed to stop staring at him, lest you wanted to go into cardiac arrest.

Your feet padding against the carpeted flooring of the hallway is the only thing you can hear all the way to your room. You even watch sheepishly as he pulls out the keycard and holds it to the sensor. It quickly flashes green and he pushes open the door.

You’re too preoccupied gawking at his back muscles again to notice he’s stopped in his tracks, causing you to bump into him. He laughs that melodic laugh of his before turning around to steady you. You give him a weak smile in apology.

And then you see why he paused so abruptly.

“Oh no, there’s only one bed, what will we do now?”

You sputter at how nonchalant he is about the situation. You glance back and forth from him to the bed and repeat, sweat forming on your palms. It was already going to be hard enough just sleeping in the same room, now you had to sleep in the same bed? You wouldn’t be surprised if you were found dead tomorrow morning.

“W-We can talk to someone at the front desk? Maybe we can get things sorted out and get a room with two beds instead?” You avoid eye contact.

“It’s too late for that. Besides, we did book these at the last minute, so they probably gave us whatever they had available.” He shrugs. His attitude is kind of pissing you off. How could he be so calm right now?

“Well— uh— um— maybe—“ Your words falter as you struggle to come up with a solution. Jacob’s lips quirk up in amusement.

“Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense.”

You make a sound similar to choking, your eyes widening as you process what the hell he just said. You keep blinking at him, mouth parted in astonishment? Shock? Surprise? Bewilderment? Did Jacob Bae really just say that to you?

When you don’t respond for a bit of time, he heads to the bathroom to presumably shower. You’re glued to your spot, unable to move or think. Your head felt like it was hollow, full of cotton. You had to be imagining that entire interaction. That was the only thing that made sense.

Even as the water in the bathroom floods your ears, you’re still dazed. You drag yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. You were going insane. That was the logical explanation. Your feelings for Jacob had been stuffed away for so long that you were starting to hallucinate.

Yeah, that’s what you were going with.

You were much too delusional to handle seeing him come out of the bathroom, so you decided to change while he was in there and get ready for bed. You wanted to face the other direction to curve any possible chance of driving yourself crazier. You pull off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing over your swimsuit and dig through your duffle bag for some fresh clothes. You were grateful that you didn’t let your friends peer pressure you into actually swimming, your desire to keep a healthy distance between you and Jacob overpowering wanting to join in on the fun.

As you go to untie your swim top, the squeaky hinges of the bathroom door have you tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t exactly have the best reflexes either, so you fail at catching the strings before they can fall completely. At this point, you’re frozen. You’re planted face first on the floor, topless, with the boy you’ve been thirsting over for months just feet away.

Okay, so perhaps you underestimated how long it took him to shower.

“Y/N, are you— woah—”

“No, don’t come any closer!”

Of course you’re too late and he does not heed your warning. Jacob squats next to you and you can just feel his presence. To everyone else, it’s calming. He’s the person most people go to when they have any qualms about life. He was the definition of the therapist friend. However, that was not the case right now.

His presence was intimidating and your heart was hammering in your rib cage. It was practically beating against the floor. It wouldn’t be beyond you if they heard it in the lobby. You refuse to glance over at him. This couldn’t be happening. It was seriously one unfortunate event after another.

There’s a ghost-like, feather light touch that trails the length of your bare back, sending a shiver down your spine. Just like the first time, it’s like you’d been statically charged. It was as if Jacob Bae himself created electricity. A sigh leaves Jacob’s lips. “Can you look at me, pretty?”

This was something torn straight from one of your wildest dreams. His words, his actions, even the situation you were in. A singular bed that you’re forced to share. This could very well just be the universe’s way of finally giving you a win. Divine intervention did exist, after all.

A peek at Jacob’s form shows you that he’s in nothing but a towel, and it leaves little to the imagination. You swallow thickly. Your lack of cooperation has his patience wearing thin, so he takes matters into his own hands, holding himself up with said hands on either side of your head and straddling your waist.

You can feel him through his towel and the flimsy material of your swim bottoms. He’s hard, pressing into your ass like he’s the one who’s needed to have you in such a visceral way the past ten months. His sculpted chest rests on your back as he leans down, his lips coming beside your ear.

“Tell me you want me, tell me you want me as bad as I want you.” He breathes.

It’s enough motivation to flip yourself over despite being nude from the waist up. You don’t even care anymore, caution thrown into the wind. Your infatuation with Jacob Bae was already concerning, but now it was dangerous. You were getting extremely close to crossing the line you told yourself you’d never cross. But he made it so easy.

Your eyes rake his figure, from his chiseled torso that was handcrafted by the Gods to the way he unabashedly keeps his lower half pinned to yours. You almost salivate at how good this feels. But it’s not enough. You need him in ways that could only be described as carnal. You release a shaky breath when he experimentally grinds his hips.

He leans into you one more time, lips hovering your own and noses brushing. Just a few more centimeters. That’s all that it would take for him to kiss you, but he doesn’t. He flickers his eyes to yours and then back down, wetting his lips as he does so.

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

You could’ve just spoken the words out loud, but instead you close the gap between you. Your mouths fit together perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece finally reuniting with its set. They glide in synchrony, your fingers coming up to tangle in his hair and run along the expanse of his toned back. He groans when your nails graze his skin. You both part to gasp for air, lips swollen.

“That works too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias - Lost in Sardinia Part 4/8

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

*Mentioning of very rough smut*

18+

Summary - Ruben is on a getaway in Sardinia. There he meets a girl named Fiorella. She starts to wonder why Ruben won't tell her what exactly he is getting away from, or even what his real name is.

Enjoy!

It was like riding one of those mechanical bulls at a street fair, but safer and less bouncy.

"You sure I'm not too heavy?"

Ruben had carried Fiorella on his back for the past hour, without taking a break or even asking to take a break.

"Nah, you're good." His body vibrated against her chest as he spoke. "And you, do you need me to put you down?"

"No, I'm good...up here."

Fiorella did have the slightest urge to pee. However, asking Ruben to put her down, let her pee and then let her climb back up again, seem like too much of a bother.

"Wow." She gasped as Ruben jumped to adjust her position on his back.

"Sorry." He chuckled.

Fiorella wrapped her arms around his shoulders with the sudden fright. "No, I'm sorry, for not wearing the right shoes for a hike."

"Beginners mistake." He laughed.

"I'm sure it's my first and last time going on a hike."

"Don't say that." Ruben pinched her thigh. "Once we get down this mountain and your blisters have healed, you'll be longing back to the waterfalls."

"Maybe, but then I'll make sure to call a taxi that can take me there."

The vibration that came with Rubens laughter was very soothing. Fiorella let her arms wrap a little tigher around his shoulders. She felt comfortable enough to rest her head against him, dozing off to the rocking of her own body. She was nudged awake though, by the sound of a road and passing cars.

"We're almost there." He said, feeling Fiorella's body twich awake.

"Ruben, you can let me down now."

"You sure?"

The sun was setting in the sky, it was getting dark.

"Yes. I can walk the rest of the way."

Ruben lowered himself towards the ground, releasing her thighs from his grip.

Fiorella slid down his back but squirmed as her feet stirred the gravel.

"Your blisters, are they still sore?" Ruben let her find balance by supporting herself against him.

"Yes, but where almost there." She said, making an effort to stand up straight. "Where's almost home."

Either way, Ruben wouldn't let Fiorella's arm go until they had descended down the final slope.

The path to the village opened up before them, the city lights glimmering in the night.

"Come, I know a place we can rest."

Fiorella led the way towards the village, towards her uncles restaurant, however they stumbled upon the place being packed with people, forcing her and Ruben to wait outside.

"Huh, it must be a game on or something."

Fiorella's uncle had invested alot of money in buying flat screen TV's for the saloons, quickly turning his restaurant into the most popular sports bar in town.

"I don't really watch football that much, but if you want to we..."

"It's okay." Ruben protested. Somthing came across his face, a peculiar expression.

"Okay...we could just stand here then." Fiorella smiled. Ruben however, just looked at her funny.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

"Not nothing. Why were you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Fiorella eyes narrowed. "Don't look at me funny just because I don't know how to go on a hike."

Ruben grinned, showing off all of his white teeth. "Fiorella I'm not staring at you because you don't know how to go on a hike."

"Aha! So you were staring?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I guess you can say that I was staring at you just now."

"Why?"

He batted his eyes, a bit hesitant at first but then he smiled and said, "Forgive me for thinking of the ways you would've wanted me to kiss you."

Fiorella snorted. "And what ways would that be?"

He grinned. "Well there are three ways, soft, hard or a bit of both."

"Oh."

Shivers ran down Fiorella's spine. She was looking up at Ruben, he was about two heads taller than herself. The thought of ever kissing him hadn't crossed her mind, not until he brought it up just now. How would that even be possible with their significant height difference?

"How about I suprise you?" He said.

Fiorella nodded. "Yes, yes, surprise me."

He bent down and kissed her. Hard.

Ruben's lips against Fiorella's felt like being lit on fire whilst standing in the rain. She was aware of the burning, but at the same time there was nothing to worry about. She gave into him. Ruben wrapped his arms around her waist, challenging her not so stable footing. Soft moans escaped their lips and if it wasn't for three drunk teenagers stumbling out of the restaurant, Fiorella was sure that their kiss would've lasted forever.

"They seem to be enjoying themselves." She said watching the teens light a cigarette and pass it between them.

"It must be a good game on." She looked to Ruben who's eyes were fixated somewhere bellow her nose.

"Like I said, I don't really watch football, but maybe we could order some..."

"It's getting late." He said, clearing his throat.

"Um, I know but..."

"I should probably head back."

He backed away, creating distance between them. His head shifted nervously to the three teenagers, as if they were about to attack him.

"Ruben." Fiorella frowned. "If there was something I did..."

"No, it was nothing, you did nothing." He leand forward, pecking her lips.

"I don't want this day to end." She sighed. Fiorella's eyelids were closed. Slowy reopening them, Ruben's gaze was on her, searching her face.

"Come with me then." He convinced.

Lured along to the marina, Fiorella found herself in an unexpected situation as she stepped foot onto Ruben's boat. Having only seen the outside from the docks, she was surprised to find sheer luxury within. The boat's interior was adorned with intricately carved wooden furniture, plush velvet cushions, and delicate crystal chandeliers that sparkled as they swayed gently with the movements of the boat. Fiorella couldn't help but feel a tinge of suspicion. How could Ruben, a mere tourist from Portugal, afford such opulence? Was he that good at hiking that they paid him enough to buy luxurious boats?

Any doubts that lingered within her were momentarily forgotten as Ruben, charming and suave, took charge and began to undress, stripping himself of his shirt almost immediately as they stepped foot on deck.

"Sit?" He said, in a very commending voice.

"Where?" Fiorella shifted her head. He had dragged her passed what would be the boat's saloon. The only where else to sit would be....

"On the bed."

Ruben pointed towards the dark room ahead.

Fiorella entered the small cabine, her hands trembling as she pushed open the door.

"Here?"

She set herself down on the matress. Ruben appeared in the door, his shoulders square in the frame. His eye were dark as he watched her.

"Take off your panties and give them to me."

Fiorella's lips parted in a silent gasp, a cold but pleasuring sensation running down her back. She was still wearing jeans, by asking her to take off her panties, was Ruben asking her to strip for him completely?

"Why are you hesitating?" He asked.

"Ruben, I'm not..."

He saw her hands on the zipper, hesitating to pull it down. He stepped forward, his sudden presence disturbing her peace. With a forceful hand to her chest he nudged her to lay down on the matress while he helped her with her unzipp, followed by peeling the pants down her legs, all in one swift motion.

"There."

Fiorella hesitated to raise her body from the mattress. She took her time. Once she sat back up again, Ruben had backed away to stand in the doorframe again, but this time he stood with a hand down his shorts, cupping whatever he was containing in there.

"Now your panties." He said. "Take them off."

Fiorella tugged the thin fabric at her hips, rolling it down the cress of thigs.

"Not so fast." He objected.

Fiorella exhaled as her heart had jumped in her chest. He had scared her. However she did what she was told, tugging her underwear slowly down her legs.

As the the fabric got tangled between her ankles, Fiorella raised her knees to unleash herself. Suddenly a shadow swept the room and he was there, Ruben, standing in front of her at the edge of the bed.

Fiorella got tossed to lay on her back again, this time with Ruben's hands pressing down on her knees, forcing her legs too spread as wide as they possibly could.

He was rougher than she thought he would be. Rougher and less patient. He was hard, really hard. At some point he had taken himself out of his pants, perhaps whilst Fiorella was laying on her back, staring up at the sealing.

Ruben held his dick in his hand, very eager to please his aching desires.

"Ruben, I'm not...."

She wasn't ready for him. Fiorella had caught a glimpse of Ruben's size and judging by the way he had it resting in his grip, she would need more time to adjust to him, she would need more time to foreplay.

Foreplay wasn't happening, however. Ruben guided himself towards her entrance, his flesh slapping against her thigh upon releasing the grip he had around it. He was angry. Somthing told Fiorella that Ruben was angry, but not at her. However he was using her to get rid of some of his frustration. Raising his hips his tip slid down her folds, finding her entrance and crashing against her hips with one deep thrust.

Fiorella bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. She squinted her eyes withstanding the violent pain that came with the first few thrusts.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Ruben groaned. He hovered above her body, fucking her like his dick was drawn to her pussy like a magnet.

"You take me so well Fiorella, let me keep going."

He could tell her discomfort from her twisted expression, however, he was begging her to give into him, to let him have her the way that he wanted, just this once.

It was like when he had kissed her, however, this time Fiorella hadn't been given any options of the way she would have wanted him. Ruben was giving it to her hard, mercilessly. A bit terrifying, how deep he could go. Bending down to burry his face in the crook if her neck, Ruben allowed his thrusts to reach new depths, depths that Fiorella believed she could no longer endure.

"Please Ruben, I can't..."

"I'm almost there." He grunted...."Please let me finish."

"Okay." She whispered, her body limb and already exhausted.

Ruben dug into her hips until his body shuddered. He was two strokes away from shooting his seed into her. But to Fiorella's suprise he had enough  self-control to pull himself out, ejaculating somewhere away from her, somewhere where she couldn't see him. But he could see her, laying naked and merciless on his bed.

His footsteps rounded the bed, leaving Fiorella to catch her breath. She heard water being turned on somewhere in the distance and understood that Ruben was preparing to take a shower. Perhaps he understood that Fiorella was to weak to stand. And so she drifted off to sleep, waking up after what seemed to be a few moments later, when she felt her body being pressed against somthing warm.

Ruben's slow breath was against her ear.

"There was blood on the sheets, was this your first time?"

Fiorella nodded her head, mumbling somthing inaudible as a response.

They lay quiet, no one moving, until Ruben's arm around Fiorella's body shrugged to reopen her eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"It's okay." She muttered, her body so exhausted that even breathing seemed difficult. For a second she thought of dying. Is that what was happening, was she going to die in Ruben's arms, his warm embrace causing less fear to stirr her heart.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Ruben's voice was but a faint whisper in her approaching dreams. Fiorella was slowly drifting back to sleep, perhaps only imagining his soft kisses upon her skin, up her arms and in between her neck.

"I'm sorry Fiorella. I won't lose my control with you, ever again...."

[holyguardian]

Ifalna strikes me as the type of person who befriends others very easily. Before tragedy so violently entered her life, she was kind and thoughtful, the type who would do something good even to the detriment of herself. Her altruism is ultimately her ruin. She should have been angry at Gast for his role in unsealing the calamity, and yet she fell in love with him, a human who admitted to making an unfathomable mistake, the very man who unravelled the valiant efforts of cetran warriors and scholars to protect the world from a parasitic being.

He did the worst thing that a human could do to a cetra, and she fell in love with him anyway, because she could see he was a better man than his actions. She was also quite young and foolish — he was studying her people, seeking knowledge about who she was, which could certainly make an 18 year old feel seen. (Working with FFVII's own timeline and lore, I have cut down their age gap more than it likely is, so at their first meeting Ifalna would be 18 and Gast would be 31, which is important to note because an imbalance of maturity and general worldly knowledge is at play on their quick road between meeting, marriage and starting a family. Had she met Gast when she had more experience of the world as an adult their story would have been different).

Gast's history with Shinra led the company to their doorstep. He died urging Ifalna to take their newborn daughter and run, and she was escorted by faceless men in body armour and helmets to an imprisonment which is worse than nightmares. She was 22 years old when she was kidnapped, which marks a perfect mirror image to Aerith in Remake when she's sitting in Professor Hojo's laboratory. There aren't specifics about what happened to Ifalna, but there are hints, that once Aerith demonstrated she had cetran power within her too (which apparently happened in 1992, the same year that they escape), Professor Hojo increased Ifalna's 'working hours' and began crueller treatments knowing that he had a 'back up'. Remember the meeting between board directors in Remake?

Given this is how Professor Hojo speaks about Aerith after his actions led to her mother's death within less than a year of his 'testing' and he has had 15 years to do any type of reflecting, it's fair game to assume that what Ifalna lives through is on the extreme end of torture. By the time Aerith is 7 years old, Ifalna has deteriorated so much that she cannot cope without secret pain medication being smuggled in for her and by the time we see her escaping, she cannot even stand on her own two feet.

And yet throughout all of this she retains who she is at her core. She is a kind person. Someone who is so frustratingly goodhearted that she can survive everything that happened to her and still care about others. Cid Highwind met her one time and still remembers her almost two decades later. Faz Hicks plotted her escape because he had fallen so in love with his 'dear Ifalna' that he wanted to play happy family with her. Tseng, who had been assigned to monitor the missing cetran child following the mother and daughter's escape and Ifalna's body retrieval, "was cautious based on the unfortunate circumstances surrounding her mother's death" and "refused to take Aerith back to Shinra by force".

Ifalna is only 29 years old when she escaped trying to give her daughter a future outside of Shinra. Even when she realised she didn't have much longer left, she spent her last hours trying to take care of her daughter, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. These are all things within her canon, and when I expand on that, when I explore who Ifalna might be if she survived being a tragic plot point, she's still so full of love despite everything. She feels terrible guilt knowing that she played on Faz's emotions to be free, it's something that eats away at her. She would mourn the losses of anyone she crossed paths with inside Shinra, people who were employed by her kidnappers and complicit in her imprisonment with the deflection they were just doing their jobs, because she still sees them as people worthy of love. The only ones she holds hatred for are Professor Hojo, and President Shinra, in her eyes those are the men that directly wronged her.

ANYWAY. IFALNA IS NICE, I GUESS.

[persephonewritessometimes]

Moon Song / part four: smoke signals missing my heart

Summary: Y/N is staying with her sister for the time being, but her thoughts turn to Hotch.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 2915

Warnings: ANGST, distressed!reader, reader is kind of depressed and doesn't want to talk about it, lots of emotions

Playlist: Link

Author's Note: I apologize if this chapter is a bit more slow-moving, I promise the next part picks back up! As always, thanks for reading, it means the world!

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

-Two Days Later-

         I’ve been staying in my sister’s spare bedroom for the past two days. It’s blank, bare of any memorabilia, just beige walls, cream-colored carpet, and me curled up underneath the covers not even knowing what time it is.

         “Y/N? Are you hungry?” My sister asks, opening the door and walking in quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

         “No,” I mutter. Oak and Bobby have been nothing but gracious hosts, giving me space. I know my sister is worried about me – I’m worried about me, but at this point, I’d rather just rot away in bed than do anything else.

         “Will you just eat a little bit? For me?” Sometimes I forget that I’m two years older than her. I feel small, curled in bed. I feel her rest a hand on my hip. “Y/N.”

         “Please,” I whisper. She just sighs and leaves, shutting the door behind her. My phone is shut down, buried underneath my socks. I texted everyone, save for…him, and gave them my sister’s address, asking them to send a letter if they wanted to get in contact with me. I just need some time away from everything. I sigh and roll over to my back, stretching out my limbs from their cramped position. I forget how cold my hometown is in December. It makes sense, we’re far more north than Virginia is. I woke up to a light dusting of snow on the ground this morning, snow flurries kicking up in the air. I sat by the back door and watched them as I sipped a cup of coffee. Then it was back to bed.

         I’m listless, I don’t know what to do with myself, don’t know what to say to Oak, don’t know what to say to myself. I feel drained, devoid of life, and lost. I sleep almost all day on the second day.

         On the third day, I peel myself out of bed, take a shower, and put on a pair of sweats and a large sweatshirt before emerging from the confines of my room.

         “Good morning,” I say quietly, pouring myself a cup of coffee in the tackiest mug I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I watch my sister and her husband exchange a look. “You can say it. Subtlety is not your strong suit, Oak, and I profile people for a living.” I say, raising my eyebrows, stirring some sugar into my coffee.

         “We’re just worried, Y/N. I’ve never seen you like this before, I’m worried.”

         “That’s fair.” I grasp the warm mug in both my hands, turning to lean against the counter and look at them.

         “Is there any way we can help you? I’m just lost here.” Oak looks like she’s about to cry and Bobby grabs her hand, squeezing. Tears prick at my eyes at their affection.

         “I just need time, that’s all. I’ll be okay – I always am.”

         “That’s what I’m worried about, Y/N. You always manage to pull yourself together and don’t let anyone see what’s going on underneath. It’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to open up, it’s okay to not be okay." She smiles at the cliché.

         “I’ll be fine. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To heal, to be somewhere that…that he’s not.” My throat closes up and I barely get the words out. I clear my throat awkwardly. “Do you have any errands I can run for you? I might as well make myself useful while leeching off of you.”

         “You’re not leeching off of us, Y/N. You’re welcome here. And I need a few things from the grocery if you’d like to venture out today.” I nod, taking myself and my coffee back to my room. I finish it within a half hour and fight the temptation to turn my phone back on. I put on socks and shoes, grab a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, my sister’s shopping list, and let myself out of the house. I breathe in the crisp air for a few moments, letting my body adjust to the chill. I walk a mile to the store, eating my banana, I relish in the exercise and the serene quiet that my hometown brings.

         It’s just a small mom-and-pop grocery shop, and Meryl recognizes me instantly.

         “Well, if that’s not Y/N Y/L/N! Hey sweetie!” She calls from behind one of the registers.

         “Hi, Meryl.” I give her a small smile. “Just picking up a few things for my sister,” I say, waving the list.

         “Come here and give me a hug, I haven’t seen you in years!” She rushes over and squeezes me tight.

         “Yeah, I’ve been busy. Always working.”

         “The FBI needs to give you more time off!” I laugh, and agree, excusing myself to do the shopping. The store is quiet, just me, Meryl, the store manager, two middle-aged women, and a dad and his son. I’m watching them, not on purpose, the dad looks nothing like Hotch, but he reminds me of him all the same. I overhear him talking to his son and he says,

         “No, we’re not getting chocolate today, Jack, just the necessities.” I freeze when I hear his son’s name, the tears threatening to spill over. I blink a few times, willing them back and hurriedly get the items my sister needs. I make my way back to the cash register when a can rolls in front of me. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” The man exclaims, “Jack you need to hold onto things better!”

         “It’s fine!” I say, leaning down and picking the can up. Jack walks over to me shyly. “Here you go, Jack,” I say, handing him the can.

         “Thank you!” He exclaims, beaming up at me. I smile at him and give his dad a smile. I check out, adding a chocolate bar to the belt.

         “This is for that little boy when he and his dad check out,” I say to Meryl, handing her the chocolate bar.

         “You’ve always been a sweet girl, Y/N. Don’t let anyone dim your light.” Meryl says, taking the chocolate from me. I just give her a small smile, take my bag of groceries and head out of the grocery. I’m on the way back to my sister’s house when I see a small church on the other side of the street. It’s quaint, made of old gray stone and its doors are wide open. I’m curious, I don’t remember seeing this church growing up. I look both ways before jogging across the street and stepping inside. It smells like old books and communion wafers. There’s a “Please be quiet!” sign right outside the chapel, and there are a few people sitting inside, praying in silence.

         I’ve never been a particularly religious person, so I don’t know what compels me to walk into the chapel and sit in the last pew. I set the groceries down quietly beside me, and I just kind of look around. It’s beautiful in here, with huge stained-glass windows towards the front, and an altar made of granite. It feels peaceful here. I don’t pray, merely just sit in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, before gathering my things and leaving. I let myself into my sister’s house and put the groceries away. I find my sister sitting in the living room and ask,

         “Hey, has that church always been there?” I ask, and she seems surprised that I’m wanting to have a conversation that’s longer than her asking me a question and me saying no.

         “The gray one? Yeah, I think it’s been there as long as we’ve lived here. Why?”

         “Oh, well the doors were open, so I went inside. It was pretty, I liked it. Very quiet.” I say and smile. “Felt nice.”

         “I think it’s open every day for people to come in and pray.” I nod in contemplation, and she asks, “Have you heard any news about…?” I shake my head.

         “I turned my phone off. Completely. Which reminds me, if I get a letter, it’s from my team. I told them that’s how they could contact me.” She nods, and I excuse myself, back to my room.

-The Next Day-

         I awake from a nightmare, gasping for breath. It’s early, and the sun just starting to rise. I pull on my coat and a pair of thick socks, quietly letting myself into the backyard. I watch the sun as it rises, the hues coloring the sky. I watch as the sky turns the lightest shade of orange – his favorite color – and then into vibrant yellows and soft pinks. It’s beautiful and I don’t realize that I’m crying until I feel my cheeks get cold and wet. I laugh a little, wiping them away. It’s silly to be crying at the sunrise, but it feels like something inside me has cracked open, ready to heal.

         The next week I come out of my room more and more, borrow books from my sister (mostly shitty romance novels that don’t have much substance but are distracting enough), and walk to the little gray church every day. Sometimes I only stay for ten minutes, the other day I stayed for an hour. I think while I’m there, reflect, sometimes I cry, but I always feel better after I leave, like the load has lifted a little bit. I’m letting myself into the house after spending some time at the church and Oak says,

         “Hey, you got a letter today.” She hands me the envelope and I recognize JJ’s pretty handwriting.

         “Thank you,” I say breathlessly, taking the letter back to my bedroom and ripping it open. Everyone has written a paragraph for me. Some are short, some longer, but all light-hearted and express that they miss me. Penelope starts hers off with a poorly written joke, but it still makes me laugh. JJ’s paragraph is last, and it has the information I’ve been dying to know.

         Y/N, I hope you’re getting the rest you deserve. I know you’re wondering about him, so I’ll tell you. He woke up shortly after you and Reid left, and the first words out of his mouth were your name. When he realized you were gone, he looked like he was going to throw up. He’s back at work, despite the doctor’s orders, and keeps to himself even more than usual. He doesn’t joke around anymore, just says what he needs to and leaves. We’re worried about him, and I know you are too. He’s not the same when you’re gone. I’m not telling you this to get you to come back, I’m telling you because I know you, and you’d strangle me if I didn’t give you at least a little bit of an update. Take your time, we’ll all be here for you when you want to return. Love you.

-JJ

         They did not ask him to write a paragraph, and I feel the absence of his presence greatly. I wonder if he even knows if they’ve sent me a letter. Part of me is glad, if he doesn’t write, then I don’t have to worry about reading his words and feel like I’m hurtling over the edge into the abyss.

         I woke up in the middle of the night that night. It’s pitch-black outside, the world is quiet, waiting for something. I shuffle out of bed, put my gun in the waistband of my pants, and go for a walk. The world looks different when it’s nighttime, it’s peaceful and I walk to a park two blocks away. I sit and swing for a while, and I can’t stop thinking about him. I see him everywhere I go. In the grocery store, in the sunrise, in the sound of the door being opened but it’s always just Bobby.

         I don’t know when I start to cry. I just sit there, unmoving, letting them spill down my cheeks.

         “Let him go,” I sob at the big dark sky. But I can’t. He is entangled in my very being. The first time we kissed, the atoms of my body welcomed him in, and now he is burned into my soul. I will never be able to let him go. I feel like I’m watching myself break down from the outside, an outsider to my own life. I’m listening to her scream, listening to her cry. A feeling of relief came over my soul. I couldn’t take it any longer, and I lost control. They’re big, heaving, gut-wrenching sobs as I realize that I will never be able to rid myself of Aaron Hotchner. I feel the rational part of me chasing my emotions up the stairs, and I pinned her to the ground. Underneath her whimpering, I could hear the sirens sound. I rattled off a list of all the things I miss.

         “God?” I whispered when I was able to get my sobs under control. “I know we don’t exactly have a good track record, and I know it’s stupid to ask you for something after all these years, but if it’s meant to be, can you please send me a sign?” I look up into the sky and right as I’m about to close my eyes, two shooting stars follow each other across the sky. I suck in a breath and whisper, “Thanks, God.” I collect myself and walk back to my sister’s house, curling back up in bed and sleeping better than I had in weeks.

         I dream about him. When I wake up, from the dream where I am safe and loved, I reach across the bed for a body I know isn’t there. I curl into a tight little ball, resting my hands under my chin as my sleepy eyes take in the quiet room. I feel more at peace than I did yesterday and join Oak and Bobby for breakfast. They keep glancing at each other, and I know they’re trying to figure out what changed.

         “Y/N, Christmas is next week, do you want anything?” I blink and pause. I hadn’t realized it was coming up so fast.

         “Oh! Um, I’m not sure. Maybe a nice pair of pajamas?” I suggest, and Oak smiles at me.

         “I can do that.”

         “Do you want anything?” I ask back. She regards me.

         “I just want you to be happy.”

         “Oak…” I start, but she cuts me off.

         “No. Y/N, you love that man, yes?”

         “Yes, but - ”

         “No buts. You love that man. He loves you. You make it work, if it’s meant to be, it will work. It won’t be pretty and easy, but you can’t give up and then spend your whole life wondering what would have happened if you had just tried.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. “I’m not saying you need to just forgive him immediately, but it’s clear he loves you, and you can’t help but love him.” I squeeze her hand back, not trusting myself to speak, and nod.

         I walk to the church again that day, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. There’s no quiet sign today though, and people are chatting inside. I almost turn and leave when I hear,

         “Hello, I’ve seen you here a lot. What’s your name?” An older-looking man, approaches me, a kind smile on his face.

         “Oh, um, I’m Y/N. I’m just staying with my sister for a little bit.”

         “Ah, I see. Running from your responsibilities?” He asks, smiling.

         “Running from a person, more like it.”

         “Ah, there’s always a boy in the story, isn’t there?”

         “Yeah, it seems like it,” I mutter, but smile at him.

         “What’s his name?”

         “Aaron.”

         “Good name. Is he kind?”

         “He tries to be, he’s just been hurt. We all have.”

         “I understand. We’re having a potluck right now, would you like to join us?” He asks, motioning towards the chapel.

         “Oh, uh, I didn’t know. I didn’t bring anything.” I feel awkward.

         “That doesn’t matter, come inside, Y/N, we’d be happy to have you.” I don’t know why I concede, but I do. The old man, whose name I forgot to ask, introduces me to a few people, and I recognize the dad and his son, Jack from the grocery store.

         “Hey! Thank you for the chocolate!” Jack says, tugging on my hand. I smile and crouch down to be on his level.

         “Of course! What’s life if you can’t have a little bit of chocolate?” I wink at him, and he giggles. I stand back up and his dad, whose name is Eric, says,

         “Thank you again, that was a pleasant surprise.”

         “Anytime.”

         “Why did you do it?”

         “The world needs a little more kindness than what I’ve been giving it,” I say plainly.

         “I see you met Aaron,” Eric says, changing the subject and nodding at the older gentleman. A look of surprise comes over my face before I quickly school it back into neutrality. Of course, his name is Aaron.

         “Oh, uh, yeah, he invited me in.”

         “He’s one of the church elders, and the nicest man I know. Hey, we’re having a Christmas Eve service, if you’d like to come.”

         “Of course, I’ll be there.” I smile and excuse myself. For some reason, the idea of smoke signals comes to my mind.

         The orange sunrises, the little boy named Jack, the double shooting stars, and the older man named Aaron. You must have been looking for me, sending smoke signals.

 ---

part five: the day after tomorrow

---

TAG LIST (want to be added? click here!): @helmihotchner @hausofwhores @stxlemate @heidss @justjoyceme @bxtchopolis @art-and-thoughts @morgthemagpie @rousethemouse @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-aaron-hotchner @sebastiansstanswhore

[gretavanfunk]

Fighting Fire (Series)

Chapter Thirteen

Word Count: 7,380

Summary: Stevie and Sam never seemed to be what people refer to as "two peas in a pod" growing up. He got under her skin more times than she could count and Sam was desperate to be on a level playing field as his older brother and Stevie's best friend, Jake. One summer, Sam is forced to face his demons and in turn, Stevie is too.

Warnings: sexual content 18+, minors DNI, arguing, physical violence, themes of grief, themes of anxiety/depression/heartbreak

This story is written and edited by me and it is my baby so I hope some people out there can enjoy it as much as I enjoy creating it! If there are typos, bear with me lol also sorry for not updating in over a month :/ We are getting close to the end, you guys!

Chapter Thirteen Playlist for the vibes!

Stevie spent the first few days at home laying around and wallowing in her hurt. Her emotions had been flashing from anger to sadness rapidly and she really didn't know how to comprehend what had gone wrong.

When she ended things with Ryan, it didn't take her very long to stop having a physical reaction to the breakup. Especially because during that time, all she could do was see red. This was different. While her anger hung over her like a dark cloud, she was also overwhelmed with sadness. She had been so lost in her daydream-like state with Sam and suddenly he took all of that away from her.

It was troubling for Stevie to even try and reflect on it. Everything with Sam had been so wonderful and so horrible all at once. Stevie felt winded like she couldn't keep up.

During the last week, she filled a lot of her free time with hours of phone calls between Josh and Jake.

"Stevie," Josh sighed, "Are you sure I don't need to come out there?"

"I'm sure," Stevie chuckled sadly, "I promise I'm leaving the house today. I need to go to work and try and get my shifts back."

"Have you had any contact with Sam?"

"No," Stevie said sharply, "I told him to go home. I don't know if he did and I'm not wasting any time caring about whatever he's doing."

"Fair," Josh bit his lip, "I won't bother you about him anymore. But, if you change your mind, I can be there relatively quickly."

"Thank you, Josh," Stevie responded, "I love you."

"Love you too."

The call ended and Stevie laid back on her pillows and took a deep breath, studying the popcorn texture on her ceiling. She had taken a shower and was fully dressed, ready to face the outside world again but she was stalling.

Stevie had never been this angry at Sam before and that was saying something given the events of their relationship of over twenty years. This was an anger she was not very familiar with. Her chest was consistently tight, her skin ran hot, and she was so full of rage that within a matter of seconds, tears could fall from her eyes anytime.

Then the sadness would creep up to the surface. It was more debilitating than anything else. After she got back to her house that first night, Stevie felt like a hollow shell of herself. The way that she had fallen for Sam was so reckless and everything that she felt for him manifested rapidly. Maybe it was always meant to be short-lived.

When she first crossed the line with Sam, she had no time to fully enjoy it. She was immediately riddled with anxiety surrounding the secrets she was keeping from Jake. It wasn't until after all of it was over, until she left the lake house behind, that she began to think about it all.

She thought about everything Sam confessed to her: being jealous of Jake, having feelings for her, and his close relationship with her dad. It made her reflect on what Sam's behavior was like around her before any of this happened.

Stevie thought about when he came over here with food for her and encouraged her to pack. She thought about the muffins and the way her stomach twisted into knots when he said they were his favorite. She thought about the day on the lake when they held each other in the water after he pushed her out of her canoe. It scared her how electrified she felt by the small physical interaction.

When she had finally been out in the open with him after fighting with Jake, she always regretted how previously she would run from that feeling.

Soon enough, Stevie had been going down a rabbit hole in her reflection. She remembered the photo of them in her dad's photo album when they were at that soccer game. There was more context to that photo than Stevie realized while talking about it with Sam.

The background story to that photograph, the events that took place before the game, and how they ended up there in the first place came flooding back to her. That particular soccer game was a night game. It was on a Saturday which wasn't typical for night games, but if Stevie remembered correctly, it was a makeup for a game that had been postponed. Stevie never missed any of Jake's soccer games, even before they were in high school.

That Saturday she had been hanging out at the Kiszka house, working on filming something with Josh. It was just her and the twins that were filming that morning. Sam was preparing for his very first date, something the three of them were teasing him endlessly about.

She laughed as the memory came back clearer for her. Sam had braces then. His hair was an awkward length, trying to catch up with Jake in that department. He had been stressing about it all morning, spending a good chunk of time just deciding what to wear.

They were going to an art exhibit that his date apparently wanted to see and having lunch afterward. Sam was even more stressed over the fact that his dad had to drive them. At the time, it was classic teasing material for her and the twins. Ronnie was a lot more gracious about it, helping Sam get ready and psyching him up.

However, when Sam returned from his date, Stevie was the only one who was in the living room when he walked in. Jake had gone to a team dinner; Josh was in his room editing and Ronnie was on a date of her own. Stevie planned to chill out with Josh until they both headed over to the high school stadium, but things slightly changed after Sam came back, looking completely horrified.

"Jeez," Stevie scoffed when she saw him, red liquid splattered on his t-shirt, "What happened to you?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Sam huffed and headed towards his room. Kelly looked at Stevie with wide eyes and shook his head.

She sighed, feeling a little sorry for him. She decided to bother him about it anyway, putting her best-friend-of-the-older-brother hat on. She knocked on his door and it swung open rapidly. His eyes were wide, probably expecting one of his parents but his expression dropped when he saw her.

"What?" Sam groaned, "I already said I didn't want to talk about it!"

Stevie rolled her eyes and pushed past him, only needing to shove him lightly for him to move. She plopped on his bed and gave him a knowing look, "What happened, Sam?"

"Like you even care," Sam frowned, sitting beside her.

"I do care," Stevie assured him, "We make fun of you because that's what we do, Sammy. You're just the youngest so it's the worst for you."

Sam narrowed his eyes at her, but slumped his shoulders and sighed, "Fine! The date was horrible. She hated me! I completely screwed all of it up!"

"You're twelve, Sam," Stevie laughed, "It couldn't have been that bad!"

"It was!" Sam sighed, "I didn't even want to go on this stupid date anyway!"

"So, why'd you ask her out, you weirdo?"

Sam shrugged, "I was being teased at school for never kissing a girl before."

"Oh," Stevie sang, "I see. So, you tried to kiss her then?"

"I guess?" Sam questioned, "I thought it was a good time to try, but she freaked out! Now there's Powerade all over my shirt and I made a fool of myself."

Stevie laughed harder than Sam would've liked her to, but she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, "It's okay, Sam. Kissing is gross anyway!"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, I wouldn't know! I still haven't done it!"

"You don't have to be like all of the guys who tease you," Stevie said, "I bet most of them just lie about it anyway and are all in the same boat you are!"

Sam chuckled and shook his head, "Well, not all of them. Some of them kiss girls in the halls."

"Ugh," Stevie made a face, "Gross!"

"Is kissing really that gross?" Sam asked and Stevie shrugged, "I've only been kissed once, and it was weird. Besides, girls want it to be romantic, Sammy. They don't want it to be pressured and forced."

"So, what should I do?"

"First of all, you shouldn't just take a girl out because your friends are teasing you," Stevie laughed, "You should ask a girl out because you really like her and want to hang out with her. Did you even like this girl?"

Sam shook his head, "No, she just sits next to me in English."

"God, Sam," Stevie laughed even more, "You have got to get some better dating advice."

He laughed too but sighed again, falling back onto his bed, "Everyone is gonna ask me about it on Monday."

Stevie rolled her eyes and hit her hand on the bed beside him, "So what if you didn't kiss her? You went out for the wrong reasons anyway! It's not a race, Sam! Plus, when it happens, it'll be way better than it would've been today."

Sam didn't say anything, he just looked gloomily up at his ceiling and Stevie smiled down at him, "Come to the soccer game with me and Josh tonight! It'll be fun!"

"No way," Sam groaned, "I can't show my face in public!"

"Oh my god," Stevie argued, "Sit up!"

He was frightened by her demand, so he did as she said and she turned, sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Now, turn and look at me," Stevie instructed, and Sam followed suit, sitting across from her, giving her a worried expression.

"When you kiss a girl," Stevie began, "You have to make sure that she's into it. Getting to know her better helps a lot in this sense."

"Okay," Sam said, hesitantly.

"That's kind of what dates are for anyway," Stevie explained, "You'll have to pay attention to body language too. Girls are just as nervous as guys are, we're just a lot better about hiding it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Stevie."

"I know. So, pay attention!" Stevie smiled, "She'll drop a few hints when she wants you to make a move; bat her eyelashes at you, lean in closer, touch your arm or something."

Stevie acted out what she was saying, giving Sam a few visual tips on what to look for.

"She'll be nervous too and won't ever bring it up or ask you to," Stevie explained, "But, she might even look at your lips for a weird amount of time and that's usually the green light."

Sam was looking at her closely, scared to even breathe.

"You don't want to just plant it on her though," Stevie shook her head, "You want to match what she's doing too. Lean in closer a little bit, maybe reach out and touch her hair, or the classic arm over her shoulder move. Then you just close your eyes and go for it! Closed and puckered lips to start though!"

"Should I be taking notes?" Sam asked and Stevie laughed, "You'll remember! Just don't come at her with your mouth open and immediately try to tongue her down. That's just sloppy and weird!"

"Is that what happened to you?" Sam asked and she shrugged, "Pretty much! It was disgusting and not at all what I had pictured."

Sam nodded slowly, still looking confused and Stevie leaned back and away from him, grabbing his shoulders, "Just don't think about it so much! It's not a big deal, Sam. With time, you'll be fine!"

Sam nodded, "Okay. Should I just lie then? I'm sure she's already told her friends about it."

Stevie shrugged, "Who cares! Just come to the soccer game and forget about it!"

Sam shook his head, "I can't go to the game! Derek's older brother is on Jake's team! He'll probably be there and make me look pathetic!"

"You're not about to let some lame wanna-be ruin your weekend, Sam!" Stevie widened her eyes at him, "None of you are even going to remember this next week!"

"I really don't want to go to the game and be humiliated, Stevie."

Sam's eyes lit up for a brief second and he smiled, "What if I kiss you? Just to get it over with."

"Me?" Stevie laughed and shook her head, "That's not the most romantic thing in the world, Sam."

"Yeah, but you're in high school! Nobody could clown me if I kissed a girl in high school," Sam begged, "Please?"

She looked at him with sympathetic eyes and bit her lip, "Are you sure you want your first kiss to be completely meaningless?"

"Well, it wouldn't be with a girl I don't even know if it's with you," Sam said, "Just a practice."

Stevie crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, "Okay, fine! Only to get you to stop sulking in your room! And Jake and Josh can never know about this, got it?"

Sam sat up straighter and nodded, "Oh my god, thank you! I promise!"

"If you tell them, I will deny it until I die, Sam."

Sam nodded and scooted himself closer to her until their knees were touching. Stevie remembered feeling amused by him thinking very hard about the tips she gave him. His shaky hand reached for her hair, and she smiled, grabbing the back of his hand and leading it to hold her cheek. They both leaned closer to each other, slowly and Stevie was the one who closed the gap, giving him the smallest, quickest peck on the lips that ever existed.

Sam's eyes had widened triple their normal size and his cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of pink when she pulled away from him and clapped her hands together, "There! Now you can tell Derek that you kissed a high school girl."

Stevie got up off of his bed and headed to the door, stopping in his doorway and turning back to look at him with a small smile, "Now get changed! You're going to the soccer game whether you want to or not."

When she left him there, Sam was still sitting cross-legged on his bed, in shock, holding his fingers up to his lips. Stevie laughed at the memory but realized she was also crying at this point. She sat up in her bed and wiped her eyes. Sam and Stevie had successfully kept that a secret from Josh and Jake this entire time and honestly, she forgot it even happened.

That's why that picture of them in the photo album is so rare. It was one special occasion where Stevie was simply trying to make him feel better. Their history was a lot deeper and more complicated than Stevie could ever admit. Sure, it may have been one-sided for most of their friendship, but she knew what Josh told her a few weeks ago was true. She had a soft spot for him. But now, none of that even mattered.

Stevie thought about "Pearly Queen", and the sight of the destruction that Sam had created. That boat was irreplaceable, and she wasn't sure if she could forgive him for being so careless with something that meant so much to her father. Her dad would've been devastated, but she knew he would be quick to forgive Sam.

It was different for Stevie though. The emotion she felt was so heavy and all she really wanted was to hide in her bed covers and never come out again. However, she knew she needed to do something to keep busy. She got up and went downstairs, putting her shoes on and getting into her car before she could convince herself not to.

Things for Sam were only slightly different compared to Stevie after their fight. He had been riddled with guilt and although Stevie wanted him to leave, he couldn't. He began to panic as soon as he watched her get into her car and leave. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't even eat. He had to at least try to fix what he had ruined.

His brothers kept calling him and he kept ignoring them, directing more of his attention to finding someone who could help him repair the boat. Thankfully, he found someone locally who would be able to do it. It cost more than a new boat, but he knew he couldn't replace the Pearly Queen. Besides, he wasn't sure if Stevie would ever forgive him, but he had to do something. So, he paid extra for the guy to get it done as soon as possible and while the boat was getting work done, Sam was in the house, finishing what Stevie and he hadn't gotten to.

She had talked endlessly with him about her plans for making the lake house her own. She didn't want everything her dad had here to be erased, but if it was going to stay her place, she wanted to make it her own. Stevie still wasn't sure if she wanted to sell it or not, but if she was going to sell it to Sam, she thought it would be good to plan the decor changes with him so he wouldn't change it too much if she went in that direction.

He remembered she wanted the music memorabilia to stay, but her dad's old study was her dream study to work on her writing. She wanted the other bedrooms to be cute and comfortable for when any of them would be staying there. She wanted the decor to be light and comforting, opting for vintage rather than modern.

"The house already has such beautiful fixtures," Stevie said one afternoon when they were cleaning after the twins visited, "but I want more silly little wall hangings and throw pillows and rugs. Very 70's chic, ya know?"

"So, burnt oranges and mustard yellows?" Sam laughed.

"I mean not necessarily. The kitchen has that funky avocado color," Stevie pointed to Sam with a smirk, "I'd like it to be more colorful, honestly."

He nodded and smiled, "Of course, that's much more you."

Sam fluffed a blue and orange bohemian-style throw pillow on the couch and sighed as he thought back to the memory. This was a pillow he picked out and he was a little nervous about whether she'd like it or not. But he wouldn't know until he fixed things.

Sam didn't let himself feel his heartbreak unless he took breaks from working, so he barely did. He moved her dad's music memorabilia to the den and worked on painting the study, making it Stevie's writing space. He got a desk, lined the walls with bookshelves and storage space, and even put the bean bag chair in there for a nice spot to read.

The boat mechanic, Mike was his name, had finished the boat yesterday and Sam was impressed at how it almost looked like the accident never even happened. Sam worked endlessly on getting the lake house put together the way that Stevie wanted it. He wasn't sure if she'd come back to do this herself, but if he knew her the way he thought he did, he wasn't betting on it.

However, this morning he heard tires on the gravel outside and he kicked himself for getting excited that it might be her. When he looked out the kitchen window, he was less than thrilled to find Josh's Jeep there. The twins got out of the car and Sam rounded the corner, throwing the front door open.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Sam asked and Jake glared at him, "This is what happens when you don't answer our calls, Sam."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Josh asked, "Stevie told you to go home."

"I know," Sam sighed, "But I can't. I had to do something other than hating myself."

Josh crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows at his little brother, "And what exactly have you been doing?"

Sam looked out to the dock and gestured his head to it, "Fixing the boat."

The twins both looked over at the boat and Josh nodded, "Looks completely normal."

"What happened, Sam?" Jake asked, "What did you do?"

Sam took in a sharp breath and sat on the steps of the house abruptly, "I think it's more helpful to ask what I didn't do."

Tears welled in his eyes and Josh frowned, going and sitting beside him, "Sam, Stevie told me what happened. I think you just need to give her some space."

"I fucked it all up," Sam cried, "Just like I knew I would."

"I don't get it," Josh said, "Things were going in the right direction, Sam. Why'd you run away?"

"I was angry," Sam admitted, "And instead of just talking to her about it, I got drunk."

"Why were you mad?"

"Stevie told Ronnie about the lake house plan," Jake chimed in, "he took it out of context."

"Well, I don't know if it was completely out of context," Sam looked at Jake, "You guys still conspired against me."

"None of this was against you, Sam," Josh sighed, "When are you going to understand that? Stevie just wanted to help you."

"And we know you," Jake crossed his arms too, "We knew you wouldn't come down here if it felt like we were making you."

"Jake's right," Josh said, "It was a dire miscommunication and to tell you the truth, you wanted to help Stevie too."

Sam looked at Josh and thought about that day Stevie brought him the pizza. He thought about the night at Electrick and cringed at how much he acted like a douche, trying to kiss her. But then he focused on everything Stevie did for him. She attacked a stranger trying to hit him, she held his hair back while he repeatedly got sick, and she defended him when he didn't think anyone else would.

Sam smiled softly, realizing that she loved him for a lot longer than they were aware of.

"I don't know why," Jake sighed, "But you and Stevie have always been closer than any of us realized."

Sam held his head in his hands and cried and Josh rubbed his back, "Just give her some time, Sam. She'll come around."

Jake sighed dramatically and walked over to them, sitting on the other side of Sam, grabbing his shoulder, "You can't let her get away. Not again. Not ever."

Sam sniffled, wiping his face and looking questioningly at Jake, "What?"

"I'm serious," Jake said, "You have to make this right. You have to fix things with her. Neither of you will ever get over it otherwise."

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam asked, running his hands through his hair.

"Well, first things first," Josh chuckled, "You have to take a shower. Good lord, Sam, you smell awful."

Jake laughed and reached behind Sam to hit Josh on the back of the head, "Yeah, take a shower. But then, you need to talk to her, man. Stevie's in love with you. All she wants is to be with you. So, go and talk to her about it."

"She doesn't want to talk to me," Sam shook his head, "She never wants to see me again."

"Not true," Josh laughed, "She might have said that but that's so not true. She's angry, rightfully so. But you've gotta do more than fix her dad's boat to make this right, Sam."

Sam looked at Josh and nodded, "Okay."

"Don't worry about us," Jake said, "We'll be out of your hair."

"You just came out here to talk to me?" Sam laughed and Josh punched him lightly, "This could have easily been a phone call, Sam. But we're going home and spending time with Mom and Dad."

"Next time we call you," Jake muttered, "pick up your fucking phone."

Jake shoved him and the three of them laughed together. Sam stood up after pulling both his brothers into a hug and headed inside to shower.

Stevie was nervously tapping her fingers against the service counter at the restaurant, "What do you mean you don't have any shifts? There are always shifts!"

"We're fully staffed this summer, Stevie," her boss sighed, "I'd love to give you those shifts back but we hired college kids to cover for you on your time out."

Stevie sighed deeply and nodded, "No, I understand. Sorry, I'm just stressed out."

"If you want," her boss continued, "You could pick up any shifts that are posted until you come back in August."

Stevie nodded, "Okay, yeah. Thank you."

Stevie left the restaurant and hit her hands against her steering wheel when she was in the privacy of her car. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and fished it out, grunting in frustration. When she read the name on her screen attached to a new text message, her stress only skyrocketed. It was Ryan.

"Hey, I have some of your stuff I'd like to return to you. Can we meet?"

Stevie tightened her jaw and let out a deep groan before she unlocked her phone and typed back.

"Drop it off at my house. 8 o'clock."

She threw her phone onto the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot, speeding on her way home. The last thing she needed right now was to see Ryan, of all people. But she supposed it was as good a time as any. Might as well add salt to her wounds, right?

When she got back to the house, Stevie couldn't help but let her emotions take over. She sat on the floor of the entryway and let her bag fall off of her shoulder, crying hard. She cracked under the weight of her stress. While she and Sam were never labeled or exclusive, she had wished that he was the ex that she would be seeing tonight. It's not that she couldn't handle seeing Ryan, she just didn't think the stuff that had been missing for months was really important enough for him to return to her. Her heart was shattered, and Ryan did not need to be part of this chapter of her life for any reason at all.

She wanted to talk to Sam. She didn't have words to say to him just yet, but she wanted more than anything for this crippling pain to leave. Had she overreacted? Should she have stayed and tried to work through it with him? She wiped her eyes, grunting loudly with frustration. Of course, she didn't overreact. She reacted just the way anyone would. She knew deep down that she did need space from him. But the longer she waited in the silence and utter loneliness of her house, it became increasingly more difficult to rationalize the space she had wedged between them.

Stevie sniffled, wiping her face with the bottom of her shirt and she stood up slowly, setting her bag on the ground and tossing her keys on the entryway table. She walked into her living room and kneeled in front of her record player, pulling out her copy of Rumors. She put it on and laughed at the irony of the lyrics as "Second Hand News" played softly through her living room.

Stevie then went to her kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine, taking a deep breath before the liquid met her lips, and sipping it lightly. She set the glass down and decided the best thing to do besides cry was to dance around and try to forget about Sam for the time being. She still had a few hours before Ryan was expected to show up at her house so she danced over to her fridge, swaying her lips to the music as she studied what she could possibly make for dinner.

There wasn't much in the fridge, considering she had been gone for a while and the vegetables she left behind looked so sad, wilted in the crisper drawer. She tossed them in the trash and decided to stick to a tried-and-true sadness staple, paying very little mind to the fact that it was one of the only things available to eat in her pantry.

She made a large pot of instant ramen and sang along to Fleetwood Mac between bites. It paired horribly with her merlot, but she didn't have enough energy to care. She continued to dance and sing while she ate her dinner. She continued to dance and sing when she washed the dishes. And she continued to drink her wine. When she reached up to grab the merlot from the top of the fridge where she kept it, she saw a sticky note hung up on the side of her fridge.

"Sammy was here! :)"

Stevie coughed out of surprise, reaching out to touch the note and she felt her lip quiver, tears immediately welling in her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. She couldn't even keep it together just seeing some stupid note he left her. Many thoughts raced in her mind at that moment. She wanted to rip it down, crumble it, and throw it out. But she didn't. She just pressed her hand against it and left it alone, deciding not to reach for the wine anymore.

The doorbell rang before she could have another crying meltdown, and she jumped at the sound. She glanced at the clock and cursed to herself when she saw that it was already a quarter past eight. Stevie wiped her eyes and walked to the door, taking a deep breath before she opened it to Ryan standing before her.

He had never been to her current house before, as this was the place she got when she moved out of the apartment they shared. It was such a shell shock to see him standing in front of her, clutching a box close to his torso. Stevie slipped out of the house and stood on the doorstep with him, shutting the front door behind her and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Ryan," she said, "You're late."

"I got lost," Ryan said, "It's good to see you."

"Is it?" Stevie asked, rolling her eyes, "Just get this over with."

"Seriously, it is," Ryan said, "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

"I'm fine."

"Stevie, come on," Ryan frowned, "You can't seriously hate me forever, can you?"

Stevie laughed, "Actually I can, and I intend to."

Ryan scoffed and jutted the box to her, "Here."

Stevie took the box from him and just as she opened her mouth to tell Ryan to go, she heard a car door slam. She looked out past Ryan and saw the Jeep parked on the street. Sam was storming up to the porch and Stevie could tell he was mad, just by the way his hands were balled into fists by his sides and his jaw was clenched.

Part of her was relieved to see him, but the other part was terrified. He had no idea that Ryan would be here and given what Stevie had shared about Ryan, Sam had every intention to do something irrational right now. But he still was here at her house, with intentions that did not involve Ryan in the slightest. "Sam, please," Stevie started, but before she could say anything else, Ryan turned around and Sam reached him quickly, grabbing him by the shirt and punching him square in the nose.

"Sam!" Stevie shouted, dropping her box and pulling Ryan out of Sam's grasp, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What the hell is this, Stevie?" Sam spat, "You're already crawling back to this piece of shit?"

Stevie scoffed and shook her head as Ryan was groaning in pain and holding his nose with his hands, "He just came by to give me some stuff that he still had, Sam. Jesus fucking Christ!"

Ryan hissed in pain, turning to Stevie, "I should get going."

"I'm sorry," Stevie sighed, "But you kind of deserve it, prick."

Sam stepped out of Ryan's way as he headed out towards his car and Sam bit his lip, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood before Stevie, who had shifted her weight to one of her hips and wrapped her arms around herself again.

She tried her best to keep a straight face, not wanting to laugh at the fact that Sam just decked her ex-boyfriend in the nose, reminding herself that even though she was glad she was looking at him again, she was still angry with him.

"What are you doing here, Sam?" she sighed, "I thought I made things pretty clear."

"Okay," Sam frowned, "But I didn't."

"What are you talking about? Why are you driving Josh's car?" Stevie questioned, scoffing at the thought and Sam shook his head, reaching a hand out to her. She dodged his touch, and he took a step back, inhaling deeply.

"Stevie, I know I messed up," Sam said, and she laughed, "Messed up? That's one way to put it."

"I know I royally fucked up and destroyed your dad's boat and broke your heart, Stevie," Sam continued, "But we can't leave it the way we left it."

"We can," Stevie nodded, "And we should."

"No," Sam said sharply, "We shouldn't. We can't. I can't."

"Sam, I can't trust you," Stevie sighed, "I can't just pretend that you didn't do something that is borderline unforgivable."

"I panicked, Steve," Sam whined, and Stevie met his eyes as she heard the break in his voice, "I should have talked to you instead of just taking off and I'm so sorry."

"What did you expect? That I was just going to forgive you, and everything would be okay?" Stevie laughed lightly, "I am pissed as hell, Sam. Do you think I wanted to leave? Of course, I didn't want to leave but my dad's boat is something I can't get back, Sam. What am I supposed to think when you can't have a mature conversation with me before you go off the deep end?"

"You can have a mature conversation with me," Sam counter-argued and Stevie shook her head, "No I can't! You always jump to conclusions! Like you literally just did by assaulting someone!"

"That's not fair, Stevie," Sam shook his head, "I reacted because of what he put you through."

"Yes, and that's the thing," Stevie groaned, "You always react! You never think before you do! You seriously thought I'd go back to Ryan less than two weeks after I was with you? You don't know me at all, Sam!"

"I do know you," Sam grits his teeth, "I know you better than I know anyone."

She rolled her eyes and sighed but before she could rebuttal, Sam continued, "I know that you probably tried to go back to work to not think about it. I know you'd rather find anything to do to take your mind off of your hurt, Stevie. I know that you've been thinking about me just as much as I've been thinking about you."

Stevie bit the inside of her cheek, trying to find an argument but sighing because he was right.

"I know that you've always put me above yourself, even though I've never deserved it," Sam said, "Even when you tried not to. You've always loved me, without even realizing it, you have always loved me. And I've always loved you. That's not something that will change."

"This will never work, Sam," Stevie shook her head, tears pricking her eyes, "I knew it would never work."

"It won't if you give up," Sam's voice was quiet then. He stepped closer to her and she looked away from him, "I can't keep being the only thing that keeps you grounded, Sam. It's too much pressure."

"I know," Sam sighed, grabbing her arm, "You're not."

"I am," Stevie cried, "Whether you have a good or bad day is completely dependent on me. You can't only want to get better for me, you have to do it for yourself."

"I do want to get better for me," Sam argued, "I want to go back on tour. I want to get that passion back. But I want you back just as much."

"Sam," Stevie sniffled, "It's way too complicated for me. It shouldn't be this hard."

"It's not hard!" Sam exclaimed, "I'm the one making it hard, Stevie! But I can't let it go. I won't let you go."

Stevie's tears fell faster, and she shook her head, "You have to let go, Sam. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"Stevie, I'm not walking away," Sam pulled her closer to him and she felt so defeated that she didn't even try to stop him, "I know you can't walk away either."

Stevie finally met his eyes and a shaky breath left her lips. Sam took her face in his hands and moved in fast to kiss her softly. Stevie could sense the nerves radiating from Sam, not entirely sure if he should be kissing her. However, it was exactly what Stevie wanted him to do even if she had been telling him the exact opposite.

Sam went to pull away, trying to gauge her reaction. Stevie stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back in and kissing him harder. Sam hummed against her and held onto her hips. He kicked the box to the side and pressed Stevie up against the door. She whimpered into his mouth and Sam moved his lips to the crook of her neck as one of Stevie's hands flew behind them, trying to get the front door open.

Sam chuckled and reached past her to open the door for her, pushing her inside. Stevie held onto his shirt, desperately needing them to have more contact. Sam smiled and kicked the door closed behind them. His hands found their way to the back of her thighs, lifting her up and guiding her to wrap her legs around his torso.

Maybe it was the anger building up for over a week, or the intense longing, but Stevie was consumed by the moment when their lips met again. She didn't think about their fight, she didn't think about Ryan, she didn't think about anything other than the feeling of their skin touching, their lips moving against each other roughly, the way his hair was twisted in her fingers.

Sam stumbled through the house, tossing Stevie down on her sofa and she yelped, smiling up at him. Stevie knew they still had plenty of things to figure out, but she didn't want to think about anything other than how badly she wanted him.

Her record had stopped playing and her empty glass was still on the table so there wasn't any other sound in the room. Sam crawled over her and he didn't waste any time nuzzling his hands underneath her t-shirt. Stevie worked just as fast, not letting herself hesitate and change her mind about what she was doing. Within seconds, they were both topless and making out again.

Stevie was very much taking her frustration out on Sam, fighting him with her mouth. They were both just as desperate and eager as they were the first time they had sex, which helped Stevie escape the current reality they were living in. They were racing each other to get one another out of their clothes and thankfully, Sam was wearing athletic shorts and Stevie was wearing jeans, so in this race, she was winning.

Even as Sam was tugging her jeans off of her, Stevie couldn't keep her hands off of him, licking her palm and stroking his dick slowly. Sam hissed at the feeling and shook his head as he tossed her jeans on the floor.

"You're such trouble," Sam smirked and parted her legs with his hands, bringing her ankles up to his shoulders.

Stevie gasped in surprise, "Oh fuck."

Sam bit his lip and stopped wasting time, lifting her hips with his hands and settling on his knees. He lined himself up with her and dragged the tip of his dick through her folds, teasing her clit a few times making her sigh in pleasure. He twitched a little at the way Stevie was watching what he was doing, the way she was admiring the sight and the way her lip was caught between her teeth, anticipating him.

Sam's free hand reached up to Stevie's chest, grabbing a handful of her breasts before driving himself into her. Stevie's eyes fluttered shut, uncontrollably letting herself be louder with him than she had been before. He hugged her legs against his chest and moved his hand from her chest to her neck, squeezing around it a little tighter than he ever had.

They both were buzzing with anticipation, feeling the effects of their time apart. Compared to any other times they had been intimate with each other, Sam was hardly as careful, fucking himself into her much harder and quicker than before. Stevie didn't care much about this as her mind was completely clouded by how euphoric it felt and how much she wanted it to continue.

It was surprisingly hot how little he seemed to care about her finishing before him, chasing his own peak at a rapid pace. Stevie just needed the contact, already feeling herself climb to her climax as she listened to Sam groan with each thrust. She reached out to him, holding his legs and digging her fingers into him.

Usually, Stevie never waivered from talking him through sex and sporting a smug tone, but she was so overwhelmed by him that she could only moan pathetically in response to what he was doing. She was gawking at Sam who was covered in a light sheen of sweat due to his efforts. She hadn't seen him so lustful before and the view made her stomach tie in knots.

"Holy shit, Sam," Stevie sighed, "Keep going."

"Fuck," Sam grunted, "I missed you, baby."

"Use me like you need me, honey," Stevie spoke softly and Sam's grip on her legs tightened, thrusting into her faster.

He bit his lip, groaning deeply, and after a moment of this new pace, he pulled himself away from her, letting his grip on her go and standing up, pumping himself in his hand. He walked over to the edge of the sofa where her face was.

"Open your mouth," Sam instructed, and she smiled, following suit.

A hot stream of Sam's come shot into her mouth and she sucked on his tip playfully, licking him clean and swallowing with a smile. Sam's mouth was parted and his eyes were hooded as she watched her in awe, hissing lightly as she pulled her mouth away from him.

"God," Sam smiled, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

Stevie laughed and sat up, grabbing his shorts and throwing them at him, "Get dressed!"

Sam rolled his eyes, catching his shorts and Stevie stood up too, working on putting her own clothes on. The gloomy and serious feelings of their harsh reality came back to her, but she was shoving it down and still holding onto the joy she felt being in his presence.

"If we're going to do this, Sam," Stevie finally broke their silence as she pulled her shirt on, "Things are going to have to change."

"But we're doing this?" Sam asked with eager eyes and Stevie lifted her head to look at him, "If things change."

He smiled and nodded, "They will, I'll make sure of it." "I'm serious," Stevie sighed, shimmying her way back into her jeans, "I love you but I can't fix you."

"I know, Stevie," Sam tugged his shirt on, "I know I need to make changes, and anything is worth keeping you."

"What changes exactly?" Stevie questioned, raising a brow and sporting a small smile.

Sam pursed his lips together and hummed, "Well, I need to work on communicating with you and being honest about my feelings."

Stevie buttoned her jeans together and nodded, "Go on."

"I also think it's important that I stop drinking," Sam admitted with a shrug and Stevie looked at him hesitantly, "Like quit drinking completely?"

He nodded without another word and Stevie nodded too, "Well, if you seriously want to do that, I'll do it with you."

Sam gave her a knowing look, "You know you don't have to do that."

"I know," Stevie smiled, "But we could do it together."

Sam smiled and came closer to her, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers, "I'll do anything to be with you."

"I think those things are a good start," Stevie said, leaning into him.

"I love you," Sam whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you too," Stevie looked up at him with a smile.

"Does this make us official?"

She bit her lip and smirked, "I mean, I only want to be with you, Sam."

Sam tilted her chin farther up with his hand and sealed their deal with another kiss.

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