#Why do I look so damn good? [moodboards] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theharddeck · 4 months

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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.

But.

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.

Why did guys in real life never moan?

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl.

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.

Some might even say, with a pep in your step.

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it).

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before??

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.

A knock on your door startled you.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused.

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.

He looked the same.

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again.

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob.

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.

Of course he did.

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.

Objectively, Bob was the best.

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.

He pushed himself off the bed.

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.

You kissed him.

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.

He was so soft.

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.

“Can I show you?” you asked.

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.

It was better with him.

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good.

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.

You felt like you were floating.

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.

He wasn’t done, either.

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man.

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.

You loved the feeling of his skin.

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.

Fuck.

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.

Holy. Shit.

He looked like a work of art.

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you.

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.

Fuck, he felt so good.

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything.

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying.

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.

He knew, somehow.

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back.

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips.

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.

And then.

And then he got close.

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.

When you came back, you were on your side.

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

#bob fucks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd #misskielwrites #International Bob Floyd Fucks Month

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princessmaybank · 1 month

Text

Good Girl

Pairings: Boyf!Rafe x Gf!Fem!Reader x JJ

Warnings: Cheating, nudes, spanking, degradation, spanking, 3some, p in v, oral (both), fingering, voyeurism, creampie, etc.

Summary: Reader accidentally sends a nude to the wrong guy.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing something like this! Please be kind! I hope you enjoy!

Moodboard

Fuck. Rafe had me so fucking horny all day. It's not even his fault..I have been thinking about him dicking me down since lunchtime. The ache between my legs was almost too much at this point. My core was begging to be touched, but unfortunately Rafe isn't home. He went on a business trip with Ward, leaving it to me to pleasure myself. He did tell me to message him any time I feel horny and he would try his best to help, so I might just have to do that.

I was home alone because my parents were making some deals over dinner with some new clients.

But before I do anything, I really want to take a shower, I feel disgusting after work every time. I work at a little restaurant called The Wreck with my friend Kie. She got me the job when I told her I didn't want to work for my parents, at least not yet. Since I started working with her, I've met her friends and they seem to like me, well for the most part. JJ is still warming up to me, and he hates Rafe for some reason. All of them do. I understand he can be an asshole sometimes, but I wouldn't go as far as to say I hate him.

After I took my shower I didn't bother putting clothes on. I wanted to send Rafe a little surprise while he was gone.

Y/N: I took this for you baby

Y/N: Photo

I quickly hit send because I was nervous about his reaction but deep down I know he'll love it. I heard a ding from my phone, letting me know I got a message.

???: All for me? Damn Y/L/N...maybe I was wrong about you

My eyes nearly popped out of my head as my heart was beating against my chest. Then I heard another ding come from my phone.

???: Photo

Only a second later and another message came through.

???: That one's all for you.

I sent my fucking nude pic to JJ?? And he sent me one back? How the hell did that happen??? I started freaking out, knowing that Rafe would fucking kill him..and me, but mainly him.

JJ: What made ya come to your senses?

I had no idea how to respond to him. This has never happened before. Maybe I should just be honest.

Y/N: oh hey..can you just delete that and pretend you never saw it...? that wasn't meant for you JJ...

JJ: if it was sent to me, I was meant to see it, the universe just works that way ;)

He saw that I opened the text and that I wasn't responding. Those three dots popped up as he was typing.

JJ: okay, hey I'm sorry. where u at rn? I'll come meet ya n we can talk bout this

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest when I read that message. I'm nervous and I don't know what to do. Fuck. I should clear the air with him.

Y/N: my house..

JJ: drop your pin

I hesitate before sending this man my address. This could go horribly wrong, and I don't have Rafe here to protect me. Whatever, I'm already in this deep and it's just JJ what's the worst he could do?

Y/N: 📍

JJ: omw

I stood from my bed and started looking for an outfit to wear. I don't know why I cared what I looked like for JJ..I shouldn't, but I did. I ended up choosing a little white skirt with a cute blue crop top to go with it.

It took maybe 10 minutes before I heard a knock at my door. I still wasn't entirely sure if I should answer it, knowing who was on the other side, and knowing what he just saw...

I decided that I should just open the door and hopefully he'll understand the mistake.

My heart started pounding again as my hand reached for the knob. Suddenly I was greeted by a familiar face...but it wasn't JJ...

"Rafe?? " I question sounding more shocked than happy. "What are you doing here?" My anxiety was through the roof at this point, knowing JJ is probably just around the corner. Rafe let himself into my house by grabbing my face and pulling me into a heated kiss. He used his foot to kick the door closed, then pinned me against the wall next to it.

"Wanted to surprise my princess. The job got done early. I landed 30 mins ago, rushed over to see you." He says all while rubbing me up and down. "Look at this fuckin outfit, almost like you knew I was coming over princess.." He reached hand up my skirt and soon realized I wasn't wearing any panties. "Naughty girl.." Rafe smirked before attacking my neck.

About a minute later there was a knock on the door. He waved it off and said to just ignore them and they'll go away. Another knock pounded from the other side of the door. "Y/N?? Are you home?" You recognized his voice. Rafe pulled away looking slightly confused before looking through the peephole.

"What the fuck is JJ doing here?" He said gritting his teeth. I toyed with my fingers and bit my lip not knowing how to tell him the truth. Next thing I know he swings the door open.

"Hey ba- Rafe?? ...Was this a fuckin set up?" JJ questioned. I shook my head no as both men stared at me.

JJ came inside and closed the door behind him before joining Rafe and I in the living room. I was told to sit on the couch so I obeyed. The guys stood in front of me towering over me with their arms crossed, trying not to kill me or each other.

"What is he doing here?!" They both asked angrily at the same time. "Can you two sit down before I continue?" I ask shyly. The guys responded with a harsh 'No' timed almost as perfectly as before.

"Okay so here's what happened..." I trail off and explained the entire situation before Rafe turns to face JJ, looking like he is about to murder him.

At some point Rafe lunged at JJ and I had to get in the middle. Rafe grabbed my shoulders trying to move me out of the way. JJ had his hands on my hips trying to keep me in between them. It felt like they were going to split me in half.

It took a while but I eventually got them to go talk it out in my room. I can't speak guy, so maybe they would have an easier time hearing it from each other.

After a while I didn't hear them talking anymore, which was concerning, Rafe may have actually killed JJ..

I went to my room and knocked before entering. I was greeted with a naked Rafe picking me up before laying me on my bed. He placed his lips on mine, giving me one of the most intense kisses I've ever had. "Rafe- whe-wheres J-" I tried to question. "Don't worry about it. He's fine. Enjoy this." He kissed down my jaw and to my sweet spot, sucking on it for as long as he could, in order to mark me.

Rafe doesn't usually give me hickies unless he is angry-fucking me. He must have sent JJ home after their talk so we could have this moment. At least he's not mad at me anymore.

"So you wore this slutty outfit for Maybank huh?" He asked and flipped me onto my stomach, hiking my skirt up above my ass. "And no fuckin panties. You really are a fuckin slut." Rafe huffed before giving me a hard slap across my ass, causing me to yelp as a tear prickled in my eye.

"I'm gonna make you choke on my fuckin cock.." He smirks before flipping me back over. He comes over and hovers my face, his knees on either side of my head. Rafe dipped his cock into my mouth slowly before full on fucking my mouth. "Mmm yeah, suck that fucking cock you whore!" He somewhat gently slaps my face, still pushing in and out of my throat.

As I was gagging on Rafe's dick I felt something down between my legs. A cold, wet, tongue met the heat between my legs and I couldn't see it. "Wait till you see her face Maybank, she makes a pretty face when you fuck her." Rafe announced which resulted in a hum from the mouth attached to my clit.

JJ was eating me out...while Rafe was fucking my face...

Fuck.

I moaned onto Rafe's dick as he continued to fuck my throat. In turn, my moans made Rafe moan. "How'd you say she liked it Rafe..." JJ questioned before shoving his cock inside of me. A loud moan escaped the best it could when he filled me up. "...by surprise, right?" He chuckled as Rafe nodded.

JJ's thrusts caused Rafe's thrusts to go faster and harder. But they both stopped suddenly. Pulling out of both of my holes and they stood next to the bed, hovering me. "What was that??" I questioned, now blushing from seeing JJ's dick for the first time.

Of course he noticed and had to be an ass. JJ smirked at me while stroking himself. "Don't pretend you didn't like it princess.." He slows his motions down before he eventually stops. "Not saying I didn't like it- just confused. You two were literally just about to kill each other, and now you're fucking me." I say confused.

"We came to a conclusion baby. You lead JJ on..and you cheated on me. But we are ready to forgive you, if you let us have some fun with you babydoll.." Rafe simply stated, making me feel like shit because that was not my intention. I tried to counter what he said, but he just shushed me.

"Whaddya say princess?" JJ asked with a smirk. "Yea I mean...it's the least I could do.." I smile sheepishly to them. Rafe stepped between my legs and gave me a long kiss. "I love you, but I want you to understand that this is a one time thing so JJ doesn't have to keep pining after you. So whatever you want from him, make sure you get it from him now, you're still mine." Rafe explained. I'm surprised he's acting this way. He never lets anyone touch his things, especially me.

"What's first?" I asked the guys. "Just let us make you feel good baby, you won't have to do any work, unless you wanna." JJ said settling on the bed next to me. "You said anything I want?" I looked up to Rafe with glossy eyes. He nods with his arms crossed.

"JJ can I suck your dick while Rafe fucks me?" I started to blush because never in a million years did I think this would be happening. "I'd love that princess." He smiled at me.

I got off the bed and got to my knees in front of JJ. My hands sat on his thighs as my mouth lowered onto his cock. "Hmmm fuck.." He moaned out, placing his hand on my head. I felt Rafe come over and line himself up with me. "I love this fuckin skirt baby.." He says before slipping into my wet pussy, which caused me to moan on JJ's dick, which caused JJ to let out a moan of his own.

The guys were trying to set a steady pace between the both of them. JJ was bobbing my head up and down in time with Rafe's thrusts, and boy did it feel, so fucking good.

At one point they made me feel so good and I let out a long moan.

"Good Girl "

I heard them both say at the same time. A string of moans were escaping us all as they continued. Rafe was pounding into me as fast as he could. JJ was now standing with a fistful of my hair, fucking my face. I popped my mouth off of JJ and replaced it with my hand. "If you two don't stop going full force- I'm gonna cum right now.." I whine out.

They both groaned as they pulled away. I got back on the bed and sat in between them, one hand each, shooting to their hair, and massaging. They both started feeling me up, placing kisses wherever they could reach. The moment was over as fast as it came. JJ sat with his back against my headboard and pulled me to sit between his legs.

Rafe crawled onto the bed after JJ put his legs between mine to keep them spread open. I couldn't close them even if I wanted to. Rafe laid between my legs and started lightly sprinkling kisses on my lower lips.

JJ attached his lips to my neck, giving me a hickey, opposite to the one Rafe had made earlier.

Rafe moved to my clit with his mouth and inserted a few fingers into my hole. I gasped and JJ put his hands under my shirt in response.

"Why ya still wearin' this baby? Shoulda been gone a long time ago.." He says before taking my crop top off. Leaving me in my bra and my skirt. He groped my tits as Rafe sucked and fingered me. I was a moaning mess. Everything felt too good. "Guys- l-like I said before..." I say but it's too late and I cum all over Rafe's fingers.

Rafe sat up before placing his fingers in his mouth, sucking off every little drop that was left of me. "Good girl.." He smirked at me. "But, you gotta cum for JJ too princess.." Rafe stated.

I was still coming down from my high. "Cum again..?" He only nodded before sitting in the chair in front of my vanity. He turned it so he could see us sitting on the bed.

"Go ahead Maybank..." He smirked. Just as he was given the green light, JJ flipped us over so he was hovering me. "Hey there princess..." He smirked before planting a kiss on my lips. This felt so wrong to do so I looked to Rafe for some guidance.

He just sat there slowly rubbing his dick, watching us. He nodded for me to continue.

Suddenly this felt so right. I was supposed to have fun with JJ, for Rafe. JJ leaned down to my ear to whisper. "You looked so fucking good in that picture you sent me." He started kissing my neck. "I know you sent it on purpose, don't worry I won't tell him." He whispered.

His hands lifted me off the bed to take my bra off. JJ threw the garment to the side, landing in front of Rafe. He kissed me so hungrily and so passionately it almost hurt. "Jayj..." I whimpered into the kiss. He started grinding his hips against me, his dick touching my clit every time. "I know princess.." He whispered. "C'mere, I wanna make you cum in doggy." He says then plants another kiss to my lips.

I got up on my hands and knees before JJ could move me. "Wrong way baby...I wanna see your face when he fucks you..." I heard Rafe say from the chair. I turned around just like he asked. JJ got behind me when I was settled. I heard a spitting sound and a second later I felt his hand lathering my hole. "Mmmm" I moaned while I grinded back onto his fingers.

"Patience baby.." JJ said before slapping my hole which resulted in me letting out another moan. He grabbed his cock and started teasing my slut with his tip. I moved to lay on my forearms with my ass in the air. My eyes wandered over to Rafe, he was still stroking himself slowly while watching us. His lips curled up into a smirk when he saw the face I made when JJ pushed his length into pussy.

I let out a loud moan and looked Rafe in the eyes as JJ slowly rocked his hips. As JJ quickened his pace, Rafe did too. Almost like he wasn't to cum with us, but didn't want...involved..?

The room was filled with the sounds of moans and skin slapping against each other as JJ fucked me senseless. Rafe had rolled his head back but his eyes stayed on us.

I felt JJ reach for my hair and pull it back, making me arch. The slightly new angle was enough to push me over the edge. "You're such a a good fucking girl for me..." JJ says as I moan out. "JJ harder.." I couldn't say anything else. It was odd moaning another mans name but they both loved it, which made me feel dirty.

JJ gladly fucked me harder. I was going between watching Rafe fuck his hand and watching JJ in the mirror. "Fuck you're so tight princess..." He dragged out. "I'm so close Jayj..." I announce with a whine. Rafe caught my attention with a low groan. I looked over and saw his cum shooting up onto his stomach.

He was still yanking himself, riding out his high, when he said "JJ I want you to cum in her fucking pussy". I couldn't help but moan, feeling JJ's thick cock in my pussy, watching Rafe cum, and him saying THAT.

JJ let go of my hair and held my hips, bringing them backwards to meet his. We were both a moaning mess and Rafe was just watching, sitting there in his mess. He looked afraid to blink, like he was going to miss something. I pushed back onto JJ's dick, wanting more, he was making me feel so good and I didn't want it to end.

"Fuck Jayj- i-im gon-gonnaaa cum" I squeal out. "Me too princess. Are you ready?" I nod after he asked. He counted us down before with both released together, screaming each other's names. I fucked myself with his dick, riding out my high.

"Good girl.." He said biting his lip, helping guide my ass. He slipped out when we were done and gave me a long sloppy kiss, trying to savor the moment, knowing it would never happen again.

Rafe walked away at some point to clean himself up, JJ and I just continued to make out to fill the silence and need. When Rafe returned we all sat on the bed talking about what just happened. "How did it feel?" Rafe asked me. "He's really good.." I say panting, getting butterflies from the recent memory. He smiled at me and JJ before speaking.

"Y/N, I loved the way your face looked when JJ was taking you from behind..." He said while rubbing my back. "I suggest we make this a regular thing." I nearly choked when I heard him say that.

Rafe Cameron...never...shares.

"I 1000% agree" JJ said almost too enthusiastically which made me giggle. "That was both the craziest and sexiest shit I've ever been a part of. Of course I'd love to." I say smiling.

He smiled and I could tell he had a mischievous thought. "Next time I wanna try something new." He smirked to me and JJ.

"I will do whatever you two want if it feels that good.." I blush, looking between both of them.

"Good girl " They are so creepy with that shit...but it's so sexyyyy.

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts #rafe x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, need i remind you that most bonus tracks are flashbacks, fluff, smut; swearing, oral s*x (f. receiving, mentions of m. receiving), f*ngering, d*rty talk, public s*x, unprotected s*x (don't do it ffs), cre*mpie, i guess that's it, jesus christ why do i have to tag it like this god damn you tumblr

word count: 1.3k

series masterpost / main playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

“Do you have a kink for librarians?” you pant, giving his hair a sharp tug as he stuffs you full of his fingers, while his mouth alternates between kissing your clit and sucking it into his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to make out with you down there, for fuck’s sake.

“No,” you feel him smirk as he says this, his big doe eyes flitting up to your face to take in your blissfully fucked out expression, “just for you.” Then he closes his eyes again - as if that helps savor your taste better - and fully moans against your core like he’s the one on the receiving end of pleasure.

You arch against the bookshelf when Jungkook curls his fingers, bumping your g-spot with practiced precision as he tongues your clit. The sounds of him fingering you open, so goddamn wet, bounce off the walls and the books. You can’t believe you’re doing this in the fucking library! After hours, but still.

Oh, the both of you would be in so much trouble if anybody found out…

Then again, you’d be lying if you said the possibility of being caught didn’t make you just a tiny bit excited.

“Jungkook… nghhh, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess?”

You nod fervently, bucking your hips against his face to chase your high. “Yes, yes, right ther–!”

You’re prepared for the wave to crash over you, to overwhelm your every sense, like lightning when it strikes.

But it never happens.

Jungkook pulls you back just as you’re about to tip over the edge, removing his fingers from you before he stands up with a cocky look on his face. The skirt you’re wearing falls down to cover your lower half again. Your mouth hangs open in shock, in frustration, and for a second there you burn with unfiltered hatred for him. You clench painfully around nothing, but before you can hiss at him, he’s crashing his lips against yours.

An involuntary moan slips from you when you taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook works on undoing his belt as he kisses you, pulling down his boxers and trousers just enough to set his hard cock free. He breaks from the kiss to sneak his hands under your skirt, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to jump.

“Up,” he commands, and you obey. Your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer until you feel the swollen head of his cock between your sodden folds. You whimper at the bare contact and so does he. “Put me in, baby,” he says huskily, squeezing your thighs while he leans forward to nibble on your earlobe.

You reach for his cock, giving it a few slow pumps and smearing his precum all over the length, before you guide it to your entrance. You let his tip tease you for a minute even though you were about to bite his head off only minutes ago from not letting you come, and your breath stutters when it kisses your clit deliciously.

“Oh god,” you pant when his cock finally makes its way into you. “Oh fuck, Jungkook…” He buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit when he bottoms out, making the stretch feel infinitely better.

Your arms settle around his neck as he starts fucking you against the shelf, his hips rolling into you slowly at first, and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding you with purpose.

Forgive me, you think in apology to the books surrounding you, witnessing this unholy act unfold before them.

But it feels so good. It feels too good that you can’t help crying out his name with every thrust, his cock grazing your g-spot and pushing you toward the bliss that he previously denied you.

“Good girl,” he grunts, and the sound of his voice dropping low has you oozing with lust even more. The added slick allows him to fuck you better, his entire length pistoning into you, making the room echo with skin-slapping and your wet squelches. “Letting me do this to you in the fucking library. You like it, don’t you? You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Shut up,” you manage to say while trying not to lose your goddamn mind over how wonderfully long and thick he feels inside of you. “S-stop running your mouth and make me come.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but chuckles anyway. “Bossy,” he says, pecking your cheek sweetly like he isn’t about to make you cream all over him.

His hips momentarily pause so that he could adjust the grip he has on your thighs. He holds your body, firm against the shelf, and what happens next is anything but sweet.

When he moves again, he manages to be even faster than before somehow. His cock hits every single spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyes, and the moon, and Saturn, and every glimmering indicator of light that adorns the galaxy.

His thrusts, deliberately hard, rattle the shelf for a second and it makes your heart fucking leap into your throat. You yelp, and hold him tighter, but he never falters. Jungkook fucks you like he’s got something to prove, and it’s not until the giant wooden structure you’re propped against stops protesting that you can calm down.

“I’m gonna come… Jungk–” you cry, your desperate cunt clenching around him. You actually do cry, but you don’t realize it until the single tear has already rolled down to your jaw and detaches itself from your skin.

“Yeah?” he asks, hopeful. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite how difficult it is. You always try, for him.

Warmth spreads over your chest when you find him gazing at you with a tenderness that would make your knees wobble if you were standing. This time, you burn with unfiltered devotion.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he says. “I love you.”

You grip his shoulders but let yourself fall over the edge. You come hard around him as his name slips from your lips in a drawn-out moan. You feel your release soaking his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the bliss for you until he has to chase his own high too.

You pull him in for a kiss, mumbling against his mouth, “Love you. I love you. I love you.”

And then he’s coming, whining against your lips as his hips stutter. Hot ropes of his cum splatter across your walls endlessly, making you tingle all over.

He pulls out and sets you down on unsteady legs once he’s empty, and you immediately cringe from the feeling of your combined release dripping out of you. Jungkook goes to grab some tissues and your panties from the floor. With gentle hands, he helps clean up the both of you, and finishes you off with a soft kiss.

You look at each other when he pulls away, his hand lingering on your waist as you adjust your panties into place. Then you both burst out in a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” you exclaim, pressing your body to his once again to hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck. “You seduced me,” you accuse with affection.

“You wore that skirt!” he says in defense, and you feel the rumble of laughter that reverberates from his chest. “Besides, don’t act like you weren’t getting all sloppy on me just a couple weeks ago, right by the philosophy shelves.”

You rear your head back to glare at him, punching him in the chest even as you say, “Fuck off.” But it’s light, and completely endeared. It’s uttered with a fondness that he knows how to translate.

Fuck off means I love you.

Shut up means I love you.

I hate you means I love you.

Jungkook shrugs, then squeezes you into his side. A bunny smile peaks through, giving way to shallow dimples that dig into his cheeks cutely. “Let’s go home,” he says. “I got you that tiramisu you like.”

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crimsonwritings · 17 days

Text

Flames in our hearts - Prologue

Pairing: Cassian x female reader

Summary: Cassian and Y/N both have to let their partners go.

Warnings: angst, some kind of panic attacks

Words: 2.4k

A/N: It’s finally here! The first part of my firefighter Cassian fic. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to post this earlier but I was overthinking which resulted in a writers block. I’ll try to post the next parts more regularly from now on. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Moodboard

Y/N´s POV:

“So this is it then.”

Four years ago I would have never believed that him and I would ever be in this situation. Sitting in our small town café, nothing but an untouched glass of water in front of me, because I was physically incapable of consuming anything right now. Him being placed in the seat opposite of me, staring at the wall, the table and the wall again. Anywhere to avoid my gaze.

It probably looked like a break up scene straight out of a movie. Even the weather seemed to play along, as the sky was filled with dark grey clouds, rain pouring down to the earth. If angels existed I imagined those raindrops to be their tears as they mourned over the pieces of my shattered relationship. I wanted them to drown my emotions until I wouldn’t feel any of this pain right now. And if it meant that I wouldn’t be able to feel anything ever again so be it. I couldn’t care less.

“Yeah. This is it,” he answered. I knew that this decision wasn’t easy for him, could hear it in his silent, shaking voice. How much time had we actually spent together? One third of our lives? First as friends, before it had turned into something more, something intimate - something vulnerable.

He had been my first everything and oh, how I had wanted him to be my last. The one and only, like those fairytales always swoon about. Some part of me still wanted him to be just that. But fairytales aren’t real and my teenage dreams had to concede their space in my head to the cruel realities of this world.

“It used to be so easy with us but now…it just doesn’t feel like it did at the beginning. You became so distant and I know that to an extent it’s my fault but I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s frustrating me. I can’t live like this anymore. And it wouldn’t be fair to you either.”

How generous of him. Breaking up with me to spare my feelings. I didn’t know why it caused a rumble of anger to drive through my body. Didn’t I feel the exact same thing? Wasn’t it me who had questioned our relationship over the past months?

At least he was able to set me free. I on the other hand felt like a snake, meandering around his body and pushing my fangs in his skin, even though I knew I would poison him with my insecurities. I just couldn’t let go.

Because that was my greatest fear. Being left by someone I loved, someone who was supposed to love me back. It had made me doubt him at some point, when he had disappointed me one to many times with such little things. Suddenly I hadn’t been able to see the good things anymore, only the bad, which had resulted in me emotionally distancing myself, snapping at him when he told me I was a fool for doing so.

And now here we were, in the middle of that small town café, knowing that we weren’t able to make each other happy anymore. One side being controlled by her fears, the other driven by frustration, annoyance maybe. I couldn’t even blame him for feeling this way. For I couldn’t stand myself either. What used to be a loving relationship became a downward spiral pretty fast.

I knew that this was right. That I had to let him go to hopefully find his happiness, even if it meant that he would end up with someone else. If she could appreciate everything he had to offer then he was hers to claim, not mine. But why did it feel so damn wrong? Why was the thought of somebody else living my dreams with him worse than what we had now?

The merciless feeling of my panic rising up consumed me whole. I knew it all to well. It always started with that lump in my throat, swelling on and on until I feared I couldn’t breath anymore. It then resulted in a gag, as if my body tried to get rid of it by throwing up. Meanwhile I could feel the tears lining up, threatening to spill but never doing so, not granting me that sort of relief. I could feel the familiar cold running over my skin, causing me to shiver. My hands were already shaking so hard I had to grab the chair beneath me, so nobody would notice.

Calm down Y/N. Don’t you dare let them see your weakness. Nobody wants to see it.

But no matter how many deep breaths I inhaled to calm myself down, it didn’t work.

I wasn’t strong enough for this. I couldn’t let him go. Instead I needed him to take me in his arms, soothing me that everything would be all right, that he had overreacted and that we would work on it. Like we had promised each other so many times before.

My voice trembled as I begged him, “Please! I will become the girl you fell in love with again! All I need is time!”

Something deep down in me protested. Questioned why I had to beg him to love me. Why it was so important for me to be loved by him.

I didn’t listen. All I could hear were his final words.

“Stop making this any harder than it already is. You assured me of this so many times but I can’t believe you anymore. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. My love for you is gone Y/N. I feel nothing…I’m sorry.”

Something inside of me shattered at his words. Maybe it was the hope I still had left. To mend this. To get out of this nightmare. But now there was nothing left. He had made his choice and I could do absolutely nothing about it.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Neither the beat of my heart getting painfully fast nor my breath being so flat that I feared I would faint. The tears started to run down my cheeks - finally - but it caused embarrassment to flow through me as I felt the stares of the strangers around me, starring and judging.

I almost jumped up from my seat and stormed out of the cafe, away from the pity and the pain.

He didn’t try to stop me.

~*~

Cassian’s POV:

“Say that again.” His words came out in a gasp.

He didn’t know how they had ended down here. Only a few minutes ago he had felt as if he could touch the sun! Finally, after so many years of pining after it, his life had become perfect, giving him wings of jauntiness! But it seemed like he had gotten to close to the radiant heat of the burning star, for now it felt like those exact wings had caught fire, causing him to race down towards the ground, to the predict of a devastating crash.

She alone could save him now.

But instead of throwing him something to grab onto in his fall she definitively shredded his wings to pieces, robbing him of any chance to survive.

“It’s over Cassian. I’m breaking up with you.”

There were no tears in her eyes as she said it. No signs of doubt on her face. She was sure in her decision and seemed utterly cold about it. Like an ice queen she stood in front of him, wearing the mask she had always worn to protect herself. Every time she couldn’t stand the overwhelming emotions around her. Cassian couldn’t help but find it majestic, how she stood her ground, watching him slowly crumble in himself.

The shock must have been evident on his face, he was sure about it. He felt like he couldn’t move. He wanted to tear his eyes from her icy stare but no matter how hard he tried, his body wouldn’t allow him to. All he was capable of doing was holding on to the balcony railing of his apartment.

In the corner of his eye he saw the lights of the city he called his home. There was a musician playing on the streets somewhere, he could hear the happy melody in the distance. Usually he would have loved it. It all seemed like a mockery to him now.

“But…I don’t understand! I thought we were happy!”

As the realisation started to settle in he could feel the panic rising up. The ringing in his ears became louder and louder and he had to resist the urge to shut them with his hands, even though he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit. Otherwise he would have missed her next words.

“Happy?! Do you really think I’m happy with everyone trying to change me the whole time?”

There was anger in her eyes now, a little spark that could turn into a wildfire if he didn’t take care. He had seen it a million times already. That fiery anger that threatened to eat her alive. It always resulted in her sending the flames towards her opponents, mixed with nothing but cold, brutal calculation.

“You know that it’s true Cassian. They all want me to be that cheerful little girl who loves to go on family adventures and gets along with everybody and keeps quiet about all the things that go wrong with you all. But I’m not. I hate pretending that I like them. And I most certainly hate that they only see Feyre’s sister or your girlfriend in me. Especially Rhysand!”

“He doesn’t do that and you know it! All he is trying to do is to integrate you. And if you wouldn’t be so god damn stubborn about it you would see it!”

Something had switched in Cassian, he didn’t even realise it. All of a sudden the shock had turned into anger. He stepped towards her, fists clenched and eyes squinted.

She didn’t back down. Instead she stabbed her finger in his chest and bared her teeth, ready to fight back. “You’re only proving my point! You’re doing it again! Defending him! It’s always like this, you’re always on his side!”

“Can you blame me? He is the only family I have left! I owe him so much, hell we wouldn’t even live in this apartment without him!”

“Should I be thankful for this now? It’s only a reminder that we are completely dependent on him. All I did over the past years was trying to match his expectations. I really tried, for you! But I can’t do this anymore! I don’t even know who I am anymore!”

“So the only solution for you is to break up with me? Throwing me away when I’m not of use for you any longer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cassian.” She turned around and stormed into their shared bedroom, Cassian right on her heels. When he saw all of her stuff packed up in some suitcases the panic returned. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and he had to hold onto the door frame as he slightly stumbled at the sight.

“Where…where are you going?”

“Eris offered me to stay in his family’s summer house. He’ll pick me up in a thew minutes and you won’t follow me!”

She had planned this then. Had made her decision, when exactly? Days ago? Weeks ago? Leaving him, without even giving him the chance to explain himself or making things right with her. He would change if he needed to. All she had to do was talk to him, telling him what he could do better. Yet all of it wouldn’t lead to anything, because she had given up a long time ago.

What hurt the most though was the fact that she trusted another man more than she trusted him. Of course Eris would have offered to help her. That viper had tried to lure her in even before she had chosen Cassian. But why did she ran into his arms when Cassian was right here, willing to catch her like he had done so many times before?

When Nesta reached the door again, he stepped in front of her. He needed an answer. He needed to know if there was even the smallest chance of winning, should he fight for her.

„Tell me Nes, I won’t let you go otherwise. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me anymore.“

One last time she looked up to him with those beautiful steel blue eyes. He desperately searched for any sign of emotion in them. Hell, he would even take all of her anger again. At least this would mean that she still cared about him. But it seemed like she didn’t feel anything anymore as she made his nightmare come true.

„I don’t love you anymore. Goodbye Cassian.“

There it was, that final crash. He had hit the ground now, forced to watch her pass him and leave the apartment, not able to reach out for her, even though an inner voice screamed for him to hold her back.

It felt like an out of body experience. He could feel everything. The tears that ran down his cheeks. His knees giving in, causing him to sink to the ground against the wall. He could hear his sobs and pleas for her to come back. Yet everything was distant, covered under a blanket of devastating pain.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, when he finally came back to his senses. All he knew was that he had to stop her.

He got up on his wobbly legs and hustled out of the door on the floor of the apartment building screaming with everything his shaky voice could offer: „Nesta! NESTA!“.

But it was to late. She was gone. She had left him, like everyone else had done. He was all alone again.

When the old lady, who lived next door stepped out of her apartment at his screaming he gathered all his strength and made his way back into his own flat.

Entering the living room he saw a small black velvet box lying on the bookshelf. She hadn’t found it like he had planned. She hadn’t looked for it.

He could hear the box giggle at his misery, mocking him. He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t stand it anyway. So, as the anger boiled up in him again, he grabbed the box, stepped out on the balcony - and with a yell he threw it into the river down below.

Tags: @hellodarling1357

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dbnightingale24 · 10 months

Text

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird

A Lloyd Hansen Love Story/ Final Installment to ‘It’s Ridiculous But, I’ll Always Love You’

Part 2

Part 1

I am so sorry this took so long! Life has been out of control for a while (both in good and bad ways), but it’s finally here! I truly hope you enjoy this, because I loved writing it! Thanks, as always, to @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard! I love it and I love you! As promised, this is much happier than the last Lloyd story, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 25,445 (look at me go!)

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI OR I WILL SNITCH!), 18+ ONLY, Fluff, Arguing, Couples Therapy, Angst, Drinking, Smoking, Family Drama, Lloyd Hansen (cause he’s a walking warning), Violence, Murder, Degrading Kink, Rough(ish) Sex, Daddy Kink, Child Trauma, Toxic Relationship, Healthy Relationship...I think that’s it?

Song(s) Used For This Chapter: To Know Me All This Time and Still Love Me...Well, That’s A Miracle

I do not give consent/permission for works/stories to be posted anywhere else. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

“You two can’t keep going on like this,” your couples therapist sighs, as you and Lloyd both sit in silence, both of you with one leg crossed over the other. “You two have been coming here for two months, and it’s the same thing every time.”

You can hear the frustration in her tone, and it’s not like you can really blame her. You and Lloyd have been doing couple’s therapy for 2 months now, and you’re both so damn stubborn, that you both refuse to say anything. It’s not like you don’t want to say anything but, as far as you’re concerned, none of this is your fault.

“I’m not having this argument with you again, Hummingbird!” Lloyd snapped softly as you both stood in the bedroom of the hotel room: your arms folded across your chest.

“You’re acting like our family wasn’t put in danger hours ago! Do you know what this is going to do to Travis?!”

“He’s safe, you’re safe, and Denny is safe! What else do you want from me?!”

“To fucking quit!”

“I promised you that I’d stop-”

“We were still a target! Was this a joke you?” you asked, holding up your fingers that wore his hummingbird engagement ring.

“You know it wasn’t!”

“Then why can’t just pick us?! Your family!”

“I took a step back! That was me choosing you all! Just because you’re not getting everything that you want, doesn’t mean I’m not making an effort!”

“I can’t do this with you, Lloyd. Not again,” you scoffed as you ran your hands through your hair.

“You’re not fucking leave me again, Y/N!”

“You can’t-”

“I can! You think I’m letting you leave me again?! You think you can walk out of my life just as soon as I got you back in it?!”

“You never let me go, Lloyd” you scoffed, your voice rose just a bit more than you meant for it to. “You have been everything to me for forever and-”

“You’ve been everything to me-”

“I clearly haven’t! You still can’t just choose us as your top-”

“You still need to give me some space to be me, Hummingbird!” he yelled.

“This is the same shit it always is,” you scoffed as you kicked your shoes off. “God, why do you I love you? Why do I keep putting up with this shit?! I was finally fucking out-”

“Watch it, Y/N.” Lloyd warned with a growl and you rolled your eyes.

“Or what? Just what will you do?! Actually let me get shot next time?!”

Almost instantly, he had you pinned against the wall, with his hand around your throat.

“Don’t ever say something like that to me again! You fucking understand me?!”

“Why?! What’s so wrong with it?! Staying with you makes me just as good as dead anyway!”

“You don’t think I’m doing everything in my power to keep you and Travis safe?! You don’t think-” “No Lloyd! No I don’t! I don’t believe you! Not anymore! You say you love me, you want us to work through our issues, but it’s all bullshit! Make me believe you, because right now?! Right now, it’s all just bullshit to me!”

Lloyd didn’t say a word, he just crashed his lips into yours and, just like that, you were gone for him.

No, it wasn’t healthy and you both knew you were falling back into your old habits, which is why you brought up therapy. At first, Lloyd was dead set on not going.

“We don’t fucking need couples therapy,” he muttered as you started cleaning off the dinner table.

“Well, we fucking need something, because this isn’t working for me. This isn’t college, Lloyd. We can’t just fuck our feelings away and avoid the problems that are staring us in the fucking face.”

“We can work out our problems on our own!”

“Keep your fucking voice down! Travis isn’t asleep!” you snapped quietly, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

“Hummingbird-”

“I want us to go to therapy, Lloyd. You’re hellbent on keeping your stupid fucking job? Well, I’m hellbent on doing therapy,” you shrugged, leaning against the sink.

“Humming-”

“Lloyd, we do therapy or I walk. It’s that simple.”

“Don’t fucking bully-”

“I’m not bullying you into shit. You want us to work out? You wanna keep working? Then I want therapy.”

“You can’t-”

“Therapy or I fucking walk, Lloyd. I’m not going through this shit with you.”

At first, he was furious and didn’t speak to you for a week, but once he realized you weren’t backing down, he finally agreed. Denny suggested a therapist that works with the agency and that settled it.

Which is why you’re both currently sitting in the therapist’s office, stubborn and unwilling to break first.

Well, you were until now.

“Lloyd’s a selfish piece of shit, and I’m tired of it,” you shrug as Lloyd scoffs.

“I’m selfish?! You’re the one forcing me to do this shit or you’ll leave-”

“And why is that, Lloyd? Hmm? What fucking got us to this point?”

“Don’t.”

“You’re fucking job! Your son almost got killed and it’s still not enough for you to get your fucking shit together!”

“Okay, okay, lets back up for a second,” the therapist interrupts, happy to finally be getting somewhere with the two of you. “When you two talk about Lloyd going into another line of work, how do those conversations usually go?”

“He says no and that’s the end of the discussion,” you mutter.

“Bullshit! We argue, you tell me I’m an asshole, and-”

“And you keep your fucking job! I’m dramatic and whiny little bitch-”

“You’re acting like-”

“Lloyd, Travis almost died! Someone shot at us at fucking Disney! For fucks sake, you won’t even let me home school him!”

“He can’t just run away from his-”

“He’s not running away from shit, Lloyd! He’s fucking scared, he’s lonely, his friends don’t invite him over anymore, because parents aren’t too keen on their children hanging out with other kids that tend to get shot at-”

“He needs to be a man-”

“Lloyd, he is a 9 year old boy! He’s not you! He has every right to be afraid, because he’s been through hell! No one invites him to anything anymore! At least you have Denny! Travis only has us, and that’s a lonely fucking life!” you snap, wiping your eyes as you look out the window.

Lloyd’s silence lets you know that you’ve got him, and while you feel bad about hurting him, you need him to understand where you’re coming from. You need him to understand that all of this is taking a toll on both you and Travis.

“Lloyd, have you looked at all into a career where you’re not putting yourself at so much risk? Your family?”

“No, because there’s no point,” he sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Lloyd, I’m sure Denny-”

“Denny knows there’s only one job I’m suited for, and that’s why he assigned it to me in the first place. Listen, it’s not lost on anyone in this room that I’m difficult at best, but I do love both Y/N and Travis more than anything in this world. I will keep you both safe-”

“And what about when you’re not home, Lloyd? What then? Because the last time...” you trail off as your tears start to flow freely.

For fucks sake.

“Hummingbird...that wasn’t your fault-”

“I had him that weekend, Lloyd. He was my responsibility, and...we almost lost him, Lloyd. I can’t...the stress of your job always falls back on the both of us, and I could handle it before. Even after the divorce, I had no problem with making excuses, stressing myself, losing sleep...it was all doable, because Travis was safe. Now? Lloyd, it’s just too much. I’m always worried about you, but now...your enemies have no reservations about going after your family. I know how much you love your work, how proud you are, and how good you are at it, but this isn’t going to work if you keep taking and giving nothing back. That’s what killed us before and it’s what will kill us this time, if your enemies don’t first.”

“You know that I can-”

“But Lloyd, you can’t. You can’t keep us safe, that’s already been proven! I don’t blame you for Travis, I honestly don’t. However, with that being said, you’re not home all the time, and it’s only worse with your job. Whether it’s you being away, or you making more enemies...there’s just no way it works unless we get a-”

“Do not finish that statement.”

“Well, what do you expect, Lloyd?! At some point, you need to come to terms with the fact that you can’t do the job you’ve been doing, and be a family man! You have to make a choice and I don’t want that choice being something that makes you regret Travis and myself!”

“That would never happen,” he sighs, leaning back and staring at his hands. “Why can’t you just trust me? I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve never-”

“Lloyd, this has nothing to do with lack of trust. I trust you more than anyone else in the world, which is probably a horrible decision, but it’s a fact. However, another fact is that you just can’t be two places at once. You can’t protect us when you’re not home.”

“You know-”

“Don’t you dare,” you warn with a sniffle. “I never signed up for this. It was a roll that I was forced to take! I have had miscarriages, my weight has been up and down for years, I have severe panic attacks that usually end up waking me up in the middle of the night, my hair falls out from stress...Lloyd, I love you, but I shouldn’t have to take on a roll I never asked for!”

“You could’ve left!”

“I did! I left and what did you do?! Find new ways to hurt me, ruin any potential for other relationships, beg me to take you back-”

“Hummingbird, I’m trying!”

“I never said you weren’t!” you sob, wiping your eyes again.

The therapist looks from you to Lloyd, writes something down, and then sets her notepad down.

What the hell does that mean?

“Lloyd, why can’t you just walk away from the job?” she asks after a moment. “What is it that makes it so hard to leave?”

“Because he doesn’t care about anything except what he wants,” you mutter with a sniffle.

“That’s not fair,” she quickly tells you, and while you know she’s right, it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes, “give him a chance to explain himself.”

“She knows that’s bullshit,” he mutters before taking a deep breath. “I’m good at a lot of things, it’s just something that comes to me. On the rare occasion that I’m not good at something, I work my ass off until I am. That being said, besides being Y/N’s husband and Travis’ dad, my job is what I’m the best at. Hell, it’s not like I can even say that I was the best husband, because Y/N was going through hell and I didn’t even notice. I’ll never be able to apologize enough for that, but I can do my best to protect and keep them safe. No, it’s not the most ideal job and she’s always taken issue with it, but it’s one of the few times I feel normal. Everyone knows I have a reputation for being a sociopath, even you,” he nods towards the therapist, who shrugs with a head nod in response, “but this job? It was made for me. I’m in charge, I know what to do, I know how to keep my men in check, and it helps me keep my rage at bay. Without this job, I don’t know how to be a decent husband, let alone a decent Dad. The only reason I was never kicked off the football team was because of how good I was. My coach got so many complaints about how violent I was...it’s not like Y/N didn’t know any of this. She may deny it, but I’m more than sure it’s part of why she hung around. It was fun. I was fun and I’m not stupid, I know that as you get older, the fun starts to die away and you want stability, but she never left. Even with me accepting a job with the CIA, she still accepted my proposal and married me.

I know we have Travis now, and he’s our entire universe, but I’m still the man she fell in love with in college. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, but I’ve never lied about any of it. If she could accept it then, at the beginning of our relationship, our marriage, and even when she had Travis, why not now? I know we’ve been through a lot, and I know it’s because of my job, but it’s nothing new. Yeah, it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do anything either of them asks if I can just have this one thing,” he promises, his voice cracking slightly.

You know it’s because he’s finally coming to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to have the best of both worlds, and his heart is breaking just as much as yours is.

“We’ve reached the end of our time, but I think it’s very obvious to all of us that we’ve made progress today. I wanna give you two an assignment.”

“Fucking great,” Lloyd mutters.

“Stop it!” you snap.

“Try and go away for the weekend. Just you and Lloyd. Go away for a few days and talk. Really talk and maybe make a pro and con list about your relationship. It sounds silly, but it’ll help you both figure out if this relationship is something you should pursue or not.”

“We both want-”

“I didn’t say anything about ‘wanting’ the relationship, Lloyd. It’s obvious to anyone who looks at the two of you, that you two are deeply in love, but that doesn’t mean you two belong together. You two need to spend time alone and figure out if getting remarried is in both of your best interests. If it’s in Travis’ best interest,” she urges sincerely. “Now, our next appointment won’t be for another two weeks-”

“Two weeks?!”

“It’s not my fault that it took you two, two months to finally open up,” she snaps at him and you do nothing to hide your snicker. “We’ll meet again in two weeks, and we’ll go from there.”

“This is bullshit.”

“You really need to work on your ‘it’s all about me’ attitude, Lloyd,” she scowls. “I’ll see you two in two weeks.”

“Sounds good,” you smile at her as you and Lloyd both get up.

As you two make your way out of the building, Lloyd takes your hand in his and it just makes your heart break even more, because you know he’s trying. Hes always been trying, but you’re both coming to the painful realization that this just might be the end of the road for the both of you.

The car ride home is quiet, but Lloyd doesn’t let go of your hand for even a second. Every now and again, he gives a meaningful squeeze, but you both know it’s gonna take more than that to fix where you two are at.

“I can order dinner,” he offers as he pulls up to the house, that you occasionally call a home. “You’ve been making lunches and dinner ever day, it’s the least-”

“Travis prefers home cooked meals. After everything, it’s the least I can do to-”

“I know you’re tired, Hummingbird. You work hard and you-”

“I’m not really working hard, am I? I don’t have a job anymore-”

“It’s a suspension-”

“They fired me, Lloyd. They’re just being nice about it, because what happened on that call wasn’t actually my fault. However, the client was spooked and no one wants to work with someone who’s a risk of others getting injured or killed, so...”

“Hummingbird, I’m trying.”

“We both are, Lloyd. Just because we’re both trying and love each other, doesn’t mean-”

“But why can’t it?!”

“Because you can’t be the king of everything all the time!” you yell, your tears coming freely as you throw your hands up. “You need to control everything and I need some stability. Things aren’t going to just sort themselves out because we want them to! You think I want to break up again? You don’t think I wish that we could just magically figure this all out? I’m so madly in love with you, but I don’t love the life we live! Travis is in trouble every other day, he’s scared, the only time when we aren’t arguing is when we’re fucking...this isn’t working, but I don’t have the strength to walk away! Not again, because the problem wasn’t that we stopped being in love, the problem was your job and you inability to see past your own wants! I don’t know what to do anymore, Lloyd! Being without you is hell, but so is being with you and I just...I don’t know what to do anymore,” you sigh, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Now, lets get inside and take care of our nine year old son, whose grounded...again.”

“Wait, what? Why?” Lloyd asks, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes.

“He got into another fight at school.”

“Jesus Christ!” Lloyd yells, getting out of the car and slamming it shut.

“Lloyd, stop it!” you yell, quickly getting out and running after him.

“No, he needs to stop with this shit! He can’t keep getting into fights! With how much money we fucking pay?!”

“Look who’s talking! Lloyd, I will handle this! Don’t go in there and-”

“TRAVIS!” he yells as soon as he steps foot in the house.

Great.

“What?” Travis scowls from the dining room table, not even bothering to look up from his book.

“Don’t you ‘what’ me! What the hell is wrong with you?! Another fight?! We just had this talk two weeks ago! Are you trying to get kicked out?!”

“I’m sure you can donate more money and fix it, just like you always do.”

“Your attitude is starting to become a real pain the ass!”

“Both of you stop it!” you yell, trying to stop the argument before it escalates any further.

“Don’t you have another job to leave for? You always have someplace to be that isn’t here with us, so why aren’t you there now?” Travis scowls, still not bothering to look up.

“THAT IS ENOUGH! THE BOTH YOU, IN THE LIVING AREA, NOW!” you yell, officially at your wits end.

Neither of them says a word, they both just roll their eyes and make their way over to the area.

God help you.

“Listen, I know this family has been through a lot, but the way the both of you speak to one another is not okay! Travis, you know good and damn well that you’re never allowed to speak to your Father like that! Lloyd! What the hell is wrong with you?! You don’t get to speak to him like that when you’re barely ever even home and you don’t know the full story! Travis didn’t even start the fight, he just finished it! He’s been getting bullied, a lot-”

“What?! Why didn’t-”

“Lloyd, you’ve been busy and haven’t had much time to talk-”

“I would’ve made time!”

“You never have before!” Travis interjects angrily.

“Travis, enough! Upstairs!”

“But Mom-”

“Go! I’ll deal with your Father, you need to go upstairs and cool off!”

Travis sucks his teeth as he gets up and makes his way up the stairs, stomping loudly, and it takes all you have in you not to yell at him.

“Something needs to be done about his fucking attitude,” Lloyd scowls and you roll your eyes as you make your way into the kitchen. “What?!”

“You were out of line, Lloyd. If I were Travis, I’d have the same fucking response.”

You grab the largest wine glass you can find and fill it, as you take your hair out of a ponytail, trying to figure out when exactly the house became a war zone.

Lloyd lets out a heavy sigh before grabbing a bottle of bourbon and a glass to go with it, before leaning against the counter top, “what happened?”

“Travis had a panic attack during his Math class. He gets skiddish when he hears loud noises, any type of a loud boom...he’s scared. The other kids know what happened, of course, so they pick on him because kids are devils. Anyway, there’s one kid in particular that keeps picking on him and he’s the one who triggered his panic attack.”

“So, some little shit triggers his panic attack and Travis gets suspended?!”

“Yeah well, Travis broke the kid’s nose and gave him a black eye.”

“Sounds like he let the kid off with a warning.”

“Lloyd.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“When? You’re never here, and when you are, you’re in a shitty mood. Every time I brought it up we ended up arguing. Big shock there.”

“That’s why you want to home school him,” he sighs rowing a hand through his hair.

“Lloyd, you’re never around. Even with you taking on desk work, you’re still gone. I can’t keep seeing him heartbroken like this. He’s gonna end up like us, for fucks sake.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Lloyd, he’s not like you and me. Yes, he’s always had issues with his temper, but never like this. He’s angry all the time, and if he’s not angry, he’s upset. And if he’s not upset, he’s a recluse. That’s not our son and you know that. This isn’t his personality at all.”

“I want to fix this-”

“Then be here, Lloyd. It’s that fucking simple.”

“I don’t wanna argue, Hummingbird, alright? I’m imagining that there’s a meeting we need to go to?”

“Tomorrow at 1. I’ll let you know-”

“I’m going with you.”

“That’s definitely not a good idea,” you scoff before taking a giant sip of your wine. “I’ll handle it-”

“I’m his Father, Hummingbird. I should be there and you don’t have to keep doing all of this by yourself. You want me to be there, so I’m gonna try my hardest, okay? I know you don’t think so, but you and Travis are the center of my universe and I know...I know things have to change,” he mumbles, turning and caging you between his arms. “I’m trying, Hummingbird. We both want this-”

“Lloyd, we are both too old and I am too tired-”

“I can get this right, Hummingbird. I need to get this right,” he promises softly as he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Lloyd.”

“Sleep in our bed tonight,” he begs softly as his hand travels under your shirt.

“Lloyd, don’t.”

“It’s been weeks and I miss you. You know I’m sorry and how much I love you.”

“We can’t just fuck-”

“We’re not. I’m not just trying to fix what’s wrong with us with sex. I fucking miss you. I miss hearing you come alive for me, getting lost deep inside of you, “ he presses as he squeezes your hips.

“Lloyd!” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down.

Having intimate moments in random parts of the house is a lot harder when your child can make his way down the steps with ease.

“Tell me you’ll sleep in my bed tonight,” he continues to beg as he starts to kiss and suck on your neck, “our bed.”

“Huckleberry!”

“Tell me you’ll-”

“MOM!” Travis calls from the top of the steps as Lloyd backs away a little and throws his head back in frustration, “I need your help with this essay!”

“I’ll go,” Lloyd breathes as he rests his head against yours.

“No, he called for me-”

“He and I need to have a talk anyway. You stay here, think, get started on dinner...whatever you wanna do. I’ll go.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, before quickly turning and leaving, which leaves you all alone with your thoughts. You’re quick to rifle through your purse, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and a lighter, before grabbing your glass and making your way outside onto the back patio.

Taking a seat at the head of the outside dinner area, you light a cigarette and think about your relationship with Lloyd.

Both the good and the bad parts.

However, you feel the same thing you always feel when you think about the two of you (which has been a lot lately), and you come to the same conclusion every time. You can’t bring yourself to hate or regret any of it, and you can’t convince yourself that it’s truly time to call it quits. Yes, Lloyd can be a monster and hot headed but, in the spots reserved for only you and Travis (and you guess Denny), he’s the most amazing man you’ve ever met.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t turn it off, and you’ve been trying for years.

“I can tell that you’re upset with me, Hummingbird,” Lloyd chuckled as he laid down next to you on your bed.

“All the guy said was hi-”

“I didn’t like how he said it. You’re my girl and he should’ve known to keep his distance.”

“I’m not your anything. We fucked once and have been on a few dates. That doesn’t make us official.”

“You hate that you like me so much don’t you?”

“And what makes you think that I like you so fucking much?”

“Well, for starters,” he smirked as he sat up, “you’re getting worked up and that’s not like you unless you’re caught in a lie. Two, I sent those flowers to you two weeks ago, and they still look brand new. You wouldn’t care about them if they didn’t mean so much to you.”

“And how do you know so much about me?”

“Because I’ve been watching you.”

“Lloyd-”

“And you fucking like it, so don’t give me any shit. You’re not as oblivious as you like to seem. You know just as much about me as I do you. I’m territorial-”

“I’m not your fucking property, Lloyd.”

“No, you’re not property, but you are my girl.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“I know you’ve been watching the time, so I know you know it’s 1am.”

“So what?”

“So, you haven’t kicked me out, and you don’t want to kick me out, or you would have already. In fact, you haven’t even hinted at wanting me to leave.”

“Maybe I just like looking at you, Hansen,” you shrugged as you finally turned all of your attention towards him.

“Or maybe,” he smirked as he hoisted you up just a bit before forcing your legs around his waist, “you love the way I fuck you, just as much as I love fucking you.”

“I don’t love anything about you,” you moaned as ground your hips against his, clawing against his arms as you wordlessly begged for more.

“You love how I make you feel and that’s all I need for now. Until you’re ready to tell me, Hummingbird,” he mused as he ripped off your panties,

“Lloyd-”

“You tell me to stop and I will. I’m not going to take anything you’re not willing to give,” he smirked as he started stroking your clit with his thumb.

“You still hook up with other girls so I don’t know-”

“You say the word and I’ll stop. You just have to tell me how much you like me,” he teased, rubbing your clit a little faster.

You knew he had you, because no matter how hard you fought it, you really did like him. Yes, there were a million things wrong with him, but the way he treated you...

The flowers, the attention he paid to things that made you laugh and smile, the way he’d stay late with you at the library when you insisted on going over all your notes one more time even when he had an early practice or game the next day, how he’d stay on the phone with you even when you were asleep....yes, there were a lot of flaws with Lloyd Hansen, but they all seemed to melt away for you. He was notorious for treating women like trash, you’d seen him lose him temper on the field, you’d heard about the fights he’d gotten in over the smallest things. Hell, he’d just punched a guy in the face a few hours ago because he didn’t like how close a guy was standing next to you at a fucking frat party.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop being so fucking smitten with him.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” he promised as he dipped down and kissed your hip bone.

You weren’t ready to tell him that you wanted him to be yours and yours only, so you instead you said, “make me feel better.”

You saw the flash of pain in his eyes, but he masked it well and started to kiss up your body. The kisses weren’t anything like the ones he gave you the first time you two hooked up. Granted, it had been over a month since you two fucked at the frat party held in his frat house, but you still remembered every touch and kiss like it was yesterday.

“Lloyd,” you moaned as he started to lick and suck on your hipbone.

“Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do it,” he promised before dragging his tongue up your torso. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”

“I just wanna feel you,” you whimpered, losing all resolve as you felt yourself come to life for him.

“Always in my fucking crew neck,” he growled as he sat up, taking his hoodie and throwing it to the side, “it drives me fucking insane.”

“Take it back,” you moaned, pulling it over your head, taking his lead and throwing it on the floor.

“Fuck, no bra, baby? What took you so long?”

“I just wanna feel you right now,” you begged, pulling him close and kissing him passionately.

“I’m all yours,” he husked as forced his sweatpants down, “I belong to you and you only,” he promised as he pushed himself inside of you.

“Fuck!”

“You want me to make you feel better, Hummingbird? I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt,” he promised before he captured in a soul stealing kiss.

In no time at all, you were moving your hips with his, gripping his hair tight as you pulled him close with your arms.

“Tell me how much you’ve been thinking about me,” he begged as he picked up his pace, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead to yours.

“Every day and every night,” you confessed, your walls tightening around him as you tried to fight off your release.

“Best pussy I’ve ever been in, did you know that, Hummingbird? Did you know that no other pussy milks my cock like yours? No one makes me feel like you do,” he groaned before he licked the side of your cheek with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh fuck!”

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Hummingbird. Anything to keep a smile on that gorgeous face of yours!”

“Lloyd...please!”

“Gonna fuckin’ make you mine, baby! Gonna make you happier than you’ve ever been and I’m gonna keep it that way!”

“Shit!” you cried out, toes curled and back arched at the words the words he said.

The promises he was making.

“I want you to cream on my cock, Hummingbird. I’ve been thinking about it since the last time I had you in my bed, and I need it so fucking bad,” he growled as he picked up his pace, “I fucking need you!”

“Need it! N-n-need you!”

“Fuck! C’mon, give it to me! I’ll keep you up all night, I promise!”

You couldn’t have held on if you tried. His name left your mouth like a desperate plea as you squirted hard on his cock, gripping his hair harder than you meant to.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he groaned as he filled you up.

Why couldn’t you stop your mind, body, and heart from desiring him in the worst ways?

“Don’t think about anything else right now, Hummingbird,” he cooed as he rode out your highs, “just be here with me, baby.”

You had no choice but to obey.

He was a good as his word and kept you up, being so insanely sweet and gentle with you, like he needed you to believe that this wasn’t just about the chase with you. He needed you to feel that it was more than just mind numbing fucking. You let him stay and hold you close that night, and it was the best you’d slept since the first time you two hooked up.

You like to lie to yourself and say that you don’t know why that memory holds so much weight with you, but you know it’s bullshit. Everything he said that night...everything he did...Lloyd let you know in his own way that his feelings were real, and you let yourself quietly accept that yours were real too.

You let yourself finally accept how much you truly cared about him.

Cared for him.

However, for as much as they memory warms your heart and makes you smile, the one that follows leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re ready to punch Lloyd in the dick.

“The fuck are you so mad about, Hummingbird?!” Lloyd yelled/slurred as he followed you around his frat house, drink in hand, as you stumbled around to get away from him.

“Fuck off, Hansen!”

“The fuck did I do?!”

“Besides go upstairs with half the women at this party? Nothing!”

“So you do like me,” he smirked as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to a stop.

“I fucking hate you!” you yelled, slapping him so hard he dropped his drink.

“Fucking bitch!”

“FUCK YOU!”

You two weren’t even a couple, but you were already arguing as if you two had been married for 50 years.

“Why the fuck shouldn’t I have any fun?! Huh?! You keep saying that this is nothing, so why shouldn’t have all the fun I want?!” he roared as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Ya know what, Lloyd? Fuck whoever you want! Fuck until your dick falls off! I don’t give a single fucking shit!” you yelled as you made yourself a drink.

“You clearly do if you’re yelling at me in my own goddamned frat house!”

“Oh? It’s your frat house? Did your daddy buy it for you, you spoiled fucking prince?!”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! I can’t fucking make heads or tails of you! You say you don’t want this, but you get fucking pissed-”

“Why should I give you a fucking chance, Lloyd?! You say and do all of these things, and when you don’t get immediate results, you go and fuck around! So, what exactly is my incentive to date you? Give you a chance?!”

“Fucking come off it, Y/N,” he scoffed, “don’t blame me for the fact that you’re scared! You put up walls and make things complicated-”

“Then work for it! Fucking work for it you giant fucking child! I didn’t go after you, you came after me! You want me? The fucking earn me!”

“Why should I have to earn what you so willingly gave me in this very kitchen,” he chuckled with a smug grin.

The slap you gave him after that comment was probably the hardest one you’d ever given him.

“I fucking hate you. Know that I mean that with every fiber of my being. I hate you and I don’t ever want to see you again,” you sobbed before grabbing your drink and stormed out, Tina at your heels.

Of course, Lloyd refused to leave you alone. Whether it was having the men’s quartet at your classes and singing you love songs, having dozens of flowers sent to your dorm daily, or leaving romantic love letters left at your dorm every day, Lloyd didn’t let up. He kept at everything for months until you finally agreed to go back out with him.

You’re not sure if it was sheer irritation that got you to say yes, or the fact that you just missed him, but whatever it was you took him back. For better or worse, you took him back and decided he was worth all of the hell he put you through and that it was tolerable.

That being said, that was the outlook for the rest of your relationship.

Lloyd doing whatever he needed to, to invoke some sort of emotion out of you, so that you’d just admit that he’s all you ever wanted. Yes, it was toxic and you should’ve walked away in that moment, but the man made it impossible. You’d met your match in every way possible. Knowing that should’ve been enough for you to walk away, but it wasn’t and you hate that you can’t blame that on Lloyd. Yes, there were multiple options for you to just walk away, no matter how consistent Lloyd was, but you still made the decision to stay.

Even now, you can’t blame Lloyd for all the hell you go through. You always have an out, and if Lloyd truly believed you wanted to leave, he would let you. Yes, there would be the pain of him seeing you whenever you picked up (or he dropped off) Travis, but Lloyd has always been respectable enough to give you space and/or peace. As much you’d love to put your stress and anger on him, you know you can’t. You made your own personal hell and now you have to make a choice:

Do you keep trying to create a future that will no doubt be stressful but loving and worth it in the end, or do you keep following down the a path that just leads you to stress and frustration? Only time will tell and only you will be able to decide if it’s all worth it.

But fuck it all if you don’t don’t want Lloyd to be your endgame, even if it’s not what’s best for you.

Lloyd’s P.O.V

“Trav, you and I need to have a talk,” I sigh as I take seat his computer desk.

He’s nine years old, why the hell does he have such an intense computer setup?

“Aren’t you supposed to knock before you come in? Mom knocks,” he mutters, not even bothering to look up from his book.

“She’s the nicer one.”

“Didn’t she punch my gym teacher in the face just for making a remark about my attitude when it comes to leading team sports?”

“I said she’s nicer one, not the more sane one, and put the damn book down. I’m talking to you.”

“What?”

“Watch your fucking mouth. What’s going on at school, and why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“In order for me to tell you about anything, you’d have to be here for that,” he snaps.

Ah yes, that’s why he has an insane computer setup. Guilt.

“I’m here now.”

“Good job.”

“Travis, I swear to God-”

“You’re never home, Dad! Before, you were always away on missions. Now, you don’t do missions but you’re always at work, and when you are home, you get pissed off about every little thing. If you don’t give a damn, why should I say anything?”

“That’s not true and you know it. I’m just adjusting. I know I’m not good at it, but I’m working on it.”

“Are you capable of apologizing to anyone besides Mom?

“I apologize to you when you deserve one.”

“Now seems like a pretty good time.”

“Jesus, you’re so much like your Mother sometimes. I swear that sometimes I think you two work together to drive me insane.”

“Well, I’m the one who got sent to my room, so it can’t be all that bad.”

“You owe your Mother an apology.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs.

“Sit up and tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t care. Get up and talk to me. Why didn’t you tell me you were getting bullied?”

“Didn’t we just discuss that?”

I swear he’s just like Y/N.

“Travis.”

“Some of the kids at school think it’s funny that I’m scared to go to gym class, or that I jump when a book drops, or that I have panic attacks.”

“Why the hell are youi afraid of gym class?”

“A ball bouncing off the wall? A basketball bouncing-”

“Okay okay,” I sigh, sitting back. “You can’t let the bullies win. That’s not how your Mom and I are rasinging you.”

“I fought back and got suspended and, I’m sorry, isn’t that the Hansen way?”

“Are we sure you’re only 9?”

“I learn from the best.”

“That you do. Do you want to be home schooled?”

“Not forever,” he mumbles and I roll my eyes. “What now?”

“Speak up, I’m not raising you to be shy!”

“Why isn’t Mom having this talk with me?”

“Because she’s making dinner and I’m your Father.”

“You should’ve ordered something,” he goes on, completely ignoring the part about me being his Father.

Great, my kid hates me too.

“I offered to and she said that you prefer home cooked meals.”

“It doesn’t matter, she’s stressed out. You just have to do it.”

“How do you know this?”

“When she gets really upset over the things you do, I make dinner or talk her into ordering food,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“I’m trying to do better-”

“Don’t try, Dad. Just do it. Mom is here all the time and she deals with all of it, and then has to deal with your mood swings on top of it? It’s not fair.”

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter as I get up.

“Now who isn’t speaking up?”

“Watch it,” I warn in the voice that lets him know he’s got no more buttons left to push, “and watch the swearing around your Mom. You know how much she hates it.”

“But why?”

“You’ve spent time with your grandparents, that’s not how she was raised. You’re too young to swear.”

“That’s not what you think.”

“You’re gonna swear anyway, so who gives a damn when you start? However, your Mom doesn’t like it, so cut it out.”

“I preferred when you two lived apart.”

“Well, get used to how things are now, because it’s how they’re staying.”

“Not if you keeo going on like this,” he mutters, picking up his book.

“Stop being a little shit and get ready for dinner. I’m taking everyone out.”

“Where?”

“Wherever your Mom wants. Get up and get dressed.”

Yeah, I owe him an apology, but he’s not getting one while he’s being a little shit.

It also doesn’t help that he’s right.

Trying to think of the romantic way to tell you that I’m taking you both out, I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen to see you sitting outside at the patio dinner table, smoking a cigarette and drinking wine.

How did I fuck this up again? We were doing good and then, as usual, I got in the way. I’m the one starting the arguments, I’m burying myself in an attempt to keep the bit of sanity that I have, I’m not there for Travis like I used to be...

I keep fucking it up.

You’re right: this isn’t college and we can’t go on raising Travis like this. I have to start giving and stop taking. I’m not afraid of much, but I am terrified of losing you again, and I can tell that you’re on your last leg. I’m unforgiving and an entitled asshole, and you knew that when you fell in love with me, but the charm was that I never treated you like everyone else.

Well, never to this extent.

Now, I keep taking too much and don’t even think of giving anything back, and I can’t be mad that you’re ready to call off the wedding. Hell, I haven’t even seen you look at a bridal magazine in months.

If this is gonna get better at all, it’s gonna have to start with me.

Y/N’s P.OV.

“What the fuck is going on with you and Hansen?” Tina asked as you both left the library.

“Clearly nothing,” you mumbled, annoyed with yourself for how worked up you got over him at the frat party last week.

You don’t know why you let his words get to you, because Lloyd Hansen only looks out for Lloyd Hansen. It’s all just a game to him and you knew you needed to stop believing you were any different.

“Well, if it were nothing, why the hell did you slap him so hard?”

“As if anyone needs a good reason to slap Lloyd in thr face.”

“I’m not saying it’s not long overdue, but it’s not like you at all. Plus, ever since, you’ve been getting flowers, poems sent to you, teachers seem to be more lax with you-”

“What’s done is done and Lloyd can go fuck himself. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I’m done thinking it,” you huffed as held back your tears.

You weren’t about to cry over him again, and especially not infront of Tina. No one knows how much Lloyd means to you, and if you keep it that way, you can pretend he never meant much to you either.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Babe, what’s going on? What happened between you two?”

“You and everyone else saw what happened: he went down on me in the kitchen, he took me up to his room and fucked me until I was too tired to walk, we went on a few dates, we fucked again, and then decided to take multiple women up to his room at the frat party he invited me to, and that’s that. I don’t know, I just think it’s pretty shit to tell a person you’re no longer interested that way.”

“I mean...it’s Lloyd. It’s not like he has a decent bone in his body,” she scoffed as you two walked down your dormitry hall. “What did he tell you that made you believe-”

“Tina, can we please stop talking about...I left my door closed,” you said cautiously as your footsteps started to come slower.

“Does anyone besides either of us have a key?”

“Nope,” you sighed, cautiously pushing the door open, only to be met with complete and utter shock. “What the...”

Your dorm room was filled with pink and white peonies, your absolute favorites, and already knew who was behind it.

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? To make it worse, you could feel your heart swelling in your chesr with so much happiness, and your brain couldn’t understand why. Lloyd went out his way just to hurt you, because you wanted to be smart and take your time, so why do all of his actions mean so much?

“Of course you’re here with Tina,” Lloyd mumbled, visibly upset as he rolled his eyes, getting off of your bed.

“Lloyd-”

“Tina, get out,” he snapped at her.

“Excuse me?!”

“This talk doesn’t concern you-”

“It concerns my best friend!”

“Who isn’t you. Get out.”

“Lloyd-”

“Tina, there’s no point in going back and forth, because he’s not going to leave,” you scowled, dropping your bag before picking up one of the flowers.

Yeah, you were pissed, but the flowers were gorgeous.

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yeah babe, I’ll call you later,” you smiled, wondering why the hell you weren’t telling her to stay.

You knew how things would go the second she closed the door.

“Fuck you, Hansen,” she spat before leaving and slamming the door behind her.

“How can you stand to be friends with her? She’s such a bitch.”

“Now, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Hummingbird-”

“What the hell do you want, Lloyd?”

“Don’t kick me out before you’ve even heard me out.”

“I don’t feel like hearing anything you have to say. You made your point perfectly clear-”

“No, I didn’t and I’m-”

“Lloyd, just go back-”

“Can you shut up and let me fucking apologize?! Jesus!” he snapped and you jumped at his tone, as well as the fact that he’d just apologized.

Lloyd Hansen never apologized to anyone for anything.

“Listen...you’re right, okay? I don’t give you any reason to believe me, so I shouldn’t be all that surprised that you don’t wanna date me. What I did last week...it was fucked up and I did it out of anger-”

“Anger? How the fuck were you angry with me?!”

“Because you wom’t just admit that you like me! I’ve laid it all out for you, I’ve made the gestures, I’ve-”

“You’ve been sleeping around, you’ve let your temper get the best of you, you’re immature-”

“You don’t need to list every flaw that I have,” he growled. “You’re right and I’m sorry-”

“Lloyd, just leave me alone, please,” you started to sob, throwing the flower down. “You make these big gestures, you say all these things, and then you fucking hurt me. I didn’t do-”

“I meant everything I said to you that night, Hummingbird,” he cooed as he slowly made his way over to you. “I want to make you happy and keep you happy forever, no one has ever made me feel like you do, and I don’t know...it scares me,” he confessed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Lloyd, please just-”

“I’m not trying to make your life harder-I’m not!” he repeated when you scoffed, “I’m figuring this out, okay? I’ve never...I just want you and In know that you just want me.”

“I don’t know what I want,” you sobbed, finally meeting his gaze, surprised to see just how soft loving it was, and of course it made you yearn for him all that much more.

“I do, Humming. I’ve always known,” he told you breathlessly before cupped your face and kissed you as if he hadn’t seen you in years.

You weren’t surprised by how quickly you’d caved at all. Even with your brain telling you to stop, you also knew that no part of you could deny that you’d missed him. Yeah, you’d missed the sex, but you also just missed Lloyd. You missed the way he teased you about your study habits, you missed him waiting for you outside of your classes, you missed him bringing you dinner and late night snacks when he knew you were staying up too late, the late night phone calls, the personal talks...

You missed Lloyd.

You were both relentless that night, unspoken promises were made, and you let him stay over and hold you close after all was said and done. When morning came, you told him that the night before didn’t change anything and that if really wanted you, he was going to have to really earn you.

You kept the poor man at a distance for almost two months. Then, one night after a football game, everything changed and set what was to be your future in motion.

“Hummingbird, lets go. You’ve had more than enough,” he all but growled as he tried to pull you off of the bar top you were dancing on with Tina.

“Fuck off, Hansen!” you snapped, pulling your hand back as you kept dancing, still mad at him from the argument you two had before the football game.

It also didn’t help that you had 8 shots of tequila consecutively.

“I mean it, Hummingbird. Get your ass off the bar and lets go!”

“Piss off, Hansen!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tina!” he roared back.

It was truly amazing to you how much they hated each other.

You were able to resume dancing for all of 10 seconds before you felt Lloyd’s strong arm around your waist, pulling you down, “hey, let go of me!”

“Time to go back and sleep this off.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, you fucking asshole!”

“Denny, get your bastard best friend in line!” Tina yelled, pout on her face at the sight of you being dragged away.

“Denny, get your dumb bitch in line!” Lloyd called back, not even bothering to look in the direction of either of them.

“Lloyd, I fucking hate you!” you screamed, still fighting against him.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“Let me go!” you yelled before spat in his face.

He had it coming for the whole damn day in your defence.

“That’s enough, Y/N!” he snapped, finally jerking you still. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re mad at me, you’re too fucking drunk and you need to lay down! We’re going back to my place, you’re sleeping it off, and that’s final!”

“Fine,” you muttered as you finally stopped the scene you were making, but being completely turned on by the way he was controlling you.

“You little bitch, you would fucking spit...stand outside the bathroom and do not move!” he commanded before shoving the bathroom door open.

“Your boyfriend seems like a real dick,” some guy smirked before he took a sip of his beer and leaned against the wall.

“That prick is not my boyfriend,” you scoffed, trying to decide if you wanted to disobey Lloyd or not.

You really wanted another drink.

“You wanna get away from him?”

“When don’t I?”

“Then lets go,” he chuckled before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out the backdoor with him.

“What the...let me go!”

What was it with guys pulling you around that night?

“C’mon, you said yourself that you wanna get away from that guy!”

“That didn’t mean I wanted to leave with you! Leave me alone!”

“Listen, I saw you dancing on the bar like a little whore-”

“It wasn’t for you! Leave me-”

“Listen, you little bitch! You’re gonna give me what I want and I’ll give you back to your slutty little friend! Now quit-”

“Let me go!” you screamed before you stomped on his foot as hard you could with your heel before elbowing him in the stomach.

“Bitch!” he yelled, doubled over in pain as you started to run off.

How was this happening to you?

You got but only so far before being tackled, “help!”

“Now, you’re gonna fucking pay! I’m gonna make sure you’re in pain for a fuckin week!” he promised as he roughly forced you onto your back, scraping your knees against the gravel in the process before he ripped open your skirt.

“Please stop!” you cried, hitting his chest as hard as you could, but it was useless. “Get off of me!”

“Shut up!”

“The woman said to get off of her!” Lloyd yelled before he kicked the guy in the face and practically sent him flying. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Lloyd asked, rage taking over his entire demeanor as he looked you over.

You couldn’t think of any response other than to shake your head ‘no’.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised before turning and facing the asshole who was trying to get back up. “Come here you piece of shit! When someone fucking says no, you fucking stop!”

You tried to tell him to stop, but you couldn’t swallow down the lump in your throat, and you couldn’t stop shaking. Lloyd was relentless as kept landing blow after blow, but making sure to keep him upright. It’s not like you had the perfect view of his face, but you could tell that he was completely unhinged. Yeah, you’d seen him lose his temper before, but never like this.

“Now, do you understand that no means no?” he growled, holding the piece of shit up by the lapel of his shirt.

“I...I won’t...I’ll never do it again,” the man sputtered out, trying to stay up right.

“I wanna believe you Lamb Chop,” he pouted, feigning sympathy, “but I’m afraid there’s only one way that I’ll believe that something like this will never happen again.”

As if it were the easiest thing in the world, Lloyd snapped the pathetic man’s neck. You didn’t gasp, but the shaking definitely stopped.

“Are you okay?” Lloyd asked again, as he made his way over to you, voice soft as if he hadn’t just killed a man.

All you did was look up at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Hummingbird, are you okay?”

You just nodded. Lloyd sighed, half in annoyance and half in sympathy. He picked you up bridal style and carried you back to his frat house, not caring at all that it was a 20 minute walk.

You were quiet for the entire walk, because what could you say? What could you do? You’d just witnessed him kill someone as it were the easiest thing in the world, and he didn’t even seem slightly bothered by it. He just held you close while you clung to him as if your life depended on it, and you both stayed like that until you reached his room.

“You need to clean yourself up,” he told you gently after he finished cleaning up the cuts on your knees.

“That...that guy-”

“Is never going to bother you again.”

“But you...he’s just laying there-”

“It’s taken care of.”

“But what if-”

“Everything is going to be fine. You have nothing to worry about. He’ll never bother you again. No one will.”

“I should go back-”

“Stay here tonight and we’ll figure it all out tomorrow.”

“Lloyd...you have to-”

“I have to make sure you’re all good, Hummingbird.”

“No. No, you need to make sure-”

“Stop it. Every thing is as it should be. Go and clean up.”

In all honesty, that should’ve been enough for you. You knew, that night, that you needed to walk away. Lloyd had murdered someone and felt absolutely no remorse over it. In fact, as you stood under the shower head that night, you were more than sure that wasn’t his first time. When you got out of the shower, you cracked the door and heard him on the phone with someone (more than likely Denny), and he was talking to them about a neat “clean up”. Yes, that night showed you the kind of man you were dealing with, and you had more than enough proof that it was time to walk away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you dried yourself off, got in bed next to him, and let him hold you close, feeling safer than you’d ever had in your life. Yeah, he’d killed a man, but he killed him for you. He’d told you time and time again that he’d do anything to keep you safe and that night he proved it. Plus, after that night, he was so insanely patient and sweet with you. For a man who had a reputation for not being able to keep his dick in his pants, he didn’t sleep around and didn’t mention anything sexual until you straddled him after an amazing football victory.

No, you can’t blame for Lloyd for much, because he’d never hidden who and how he truly was from the very beginning. You’d always known that he was hot headed, unhinged, and cruel. You’d always known that he was conniving, secretive, and was prone to violent outburst. You’d always known about every horrible thing about him, and maybe that’s why you stayed. Lloyd never seemed to give a damn about anyone or anything, but he gave a damn about you. He let you in more than he’d ever let anyone else in and it made you feel like he wasn’t lying.

When you had a chance to get out, you didn’t.

And yes: you did have an out. Lloyd backed off a lot after he murdered that asshole, because even he knew that he’d shown you the darkest side of himself. He saw the fear in your eyes that night, and he knew it would be best to back off and give you your space, but you pursued him. So yes, to an extent, this was your fault. Lloyd had always been himself and you decided to stay.

You always told yourself that he would grow out of it (which you knew was fucking stupid), and that he’d stick to the career path you two had setup. Looking back on it, maybe he just made the career path to appease you, and maybe you just wanted to live in the fucked fairy-tale just a bit longer, because somewhere deep down inside you knew.

You knew he would never be able to stick to being a football player, because he didn’t know how to listen to anyone (except maybe you), he didn’t do well in social settings unless he had to, and he always hit too damn hard on the field because of his temper and his need to lash out. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew your fairy-tale would end after college graduation. That’s why you fought with him over joining the CIA, and it’s why you knew he’d fail at it. However, you were hopeful that him getting kicked out would push him to choose another career path, but then they asked him to join the private sector and you knew you were fucked.

Yes, to an extent, you could blame yourself but that didn’t clear him of all wrong doing. You’d sacrificed so much if yourself for him and didn’t think the idea of him returning the favor was so far fetched. Fine, he had to work just like you did (especially to afford the life he wanted to live), but once you got pregnant, it should’ve been easy for him to see for himself that he needed to take a step back. It should’ve been enough for him to finally giving instead of taking.

He took you wanting him to take a step back as sign of no longer supporting him, when in fact, it was all about safety and security. For all of the flaws that it had, you loved your life and you wanted it to stay as it had become. The fact that Lloyd couldn’t see that is what triggered the arguments. Sure, you could’ve been more vocal (though you’re pretty sure you made your point pretty fucking clear), but it’s not like it was fucking rocket science. You two had a kid and safety precautions needed to be taken.

What was once a quality you adored about him, his ability and need to be stubborn and hold on to his beliefs, became a quality you hated. Still, you held on and tried to make the best of it, because you loved him with every fiber of your being. You knew the relationship was dying, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. Even with the lonely nights, the brutal arguments, and the sleepless nights you couldn’t walk away.

Then he cheated, something you purposely pushed him towards, and you had an out again. Yeah, the whole process was awful and you hated it, but you told yourself it was for the best because it truly was. He needed something you could no longer offer, and you just couldn’t take feeling like another burden in his life. It was a clean break.

Except for Travis.

Despite all of the issues you and Lloyd had, you both loved Travis more than anything in the world. Lloyd was on time to pick him up whenever it was turn to have him, he stayed on him about his schoolwork and studying for any possible thing that could come up, and did his absolutebet to be every event Travis had. If you’re honest with yourself, it’s one of the reasons it was so hard for you to fall out of love with him. He was so dedicated and he loved Travis more than either ever thought possible. How could you not stay in love with him?

Still, enough damage had happened that it was easy enough for you to stay away, but it wasn’t enough to make you stop wanting and needing him.

“He was good this weekend,” Lloyd commented as Travis ran into your house.

“Did he make a fuss about the food? I know his appetite has been changing lately.”

“Yeah, since when the hell did he start liking peas?”

“That happened on Monday,” you laughed softly, “he wasn’t too fussy?”

“He gets sad sometimes, he likes having the both of us around, but I took him to the aquarium.”

“Oh God,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“What?” he laughed.

“He’s gonna beg me to take him back. He’s been obsessed with it lately.”

“I didn’t know-”

“No, it’s fine. He’s a good kid, he deserves it.”

“Mama! Dad can stay for a bit, right?!” Travis asked enthusiastically.

“Uh...it’s up to your Dad,” you smiled at Lloyd with a shrug.

“Yeah, I can hang around for bit,” he smiled to Travis.

“Great! Mom made chicken parm and salad! We can watch ‘Tombstone’!” he practically yelled before he ran towards the kitchen.

Nights like that made it easy to blur the lines, because it was so easy to fall into a routine, and fall even more in love with Lloyd. Yes, Lloyd did a lot of fucked up things, but when it came to you in Travis, he was a good man. He’d stay over, watch movies, play video games, and read him stories until he fell asleep. Those were the nights that made it hard to stay away. Yeah, you only slept with him once during the divorce, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t other fuck ups, and they weren’t even his fault.

He’d be in the middle of what his schedule looked like for the week and you’d just kiss him. You knew that you were the one who set the rules in place, but seeing him in full Dad mode made you forget for just a moment about all of the hell you two had gone through. In those moments, you remembered how things were supposed to go. You two were still so much in love and having those small moments really made you want him all that much more. You never meant for those moments to happen, especially during the holidays, but it was just so damn hard. When Lloyd Hansen wants to be, he is the most loving and caring person to exist.

Which is why you’re currently staring at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom connected to the spare bedroom, trying to decide if going to Lloyd is the best thing. You know that if you go in there, you two won’t be able to keep to your hands to yourselves and you’ll end up under his spell.

Like always.

However, you can’t stop yourself from wanting him. His touch alone is enough to bring you peace, but him being buried deep inside you...that’s heaven.

It’s home.

It’s not even about needing to be satisfied physically, it’s the fact that no one will ever understand or love you the way that Lloyd does. He gets your crude and cruel sense of humor, he knows the best and worst parts of you, and he’s the Father of your child. Your relationship with him should be perfect, but it’s a fucking shit show, and you know that. You truly do, but no matter how much you try and get your heart to remember that one simple fact, you can’t. You’ve never been able to.

Lloyd, for all of his demons and flaws, is your endgame.

So, you don’t stop yourself from throwing on one of his old and beaten up Harvard sweaters (he always wanted to get rid of them but they held too much meaning to you), and a pair of boxer shorts, and making your way to his room. You know it’s not in your best interest, but you need him.

“Hey,” you say softly, standing in the doorway and looking down at your feet, “dinner was nice...thanks. I’m happy you and Travis made up.”

“We didn’t make up,” Lloyd scoffs as he throws his phone down, “he just hates me a little less than he did when we got home before.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Lloyd.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Yes he does,” you sigh, making your way into his bedroom and closing the door behind you, “he just...it’s gonna take time.”

“You’re always nicer than you should be,” he chuckles humorlessly.

“Well, I do love you.”

“A love I don’t deserve.”

“That’s also true.”

“Way to twist the knife.” “You said it.”

“Hummingbird, I really want...I need us to work this out. I can’t lose you again.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Lloyd. It’s not like I’m not still wearing the ring, I’m the one who wanted therapy, I’m making the effort instead of just walking away....I do want this. I’ve wanted this ever since our first date,” you smile weakly as you take a seat on the bed you two are supposed to share. “I just can’t take the stress your job puts on this family. Our family. Travis is in a fight every other week, we’re always arguing, both and Travis and I are always anxious to leave the house, I’m back keeping a pistol both in the glove compartment and my purse-”

“I don’t know how to be apart of this world as a regular, day-to-day citizen and you know that! You’ve always known that!”

“Then why did we have a child? A child that you were barely around for when he was first born!”

“Because I wanted everything with you! I still want everything with you!”

“This was a bad idea,” you sigh as you go to getup, “I don’t wanna spend another night-”

“Don’t go,” he pleads softly as he grabs your wrist, “please don’t go.”

It’s amazing how just his touch is enough to send your mind into a fog. It’s not like you went in there with any fight to begin with, but the hold he has on your wrist is more than enough to get you to give in to what you truly want. You’re straddling him almost instantly, cupping his before you pull him into a deep and passionate kiss.

You finally feel whole again.

“I miss you,” he breathes once you two break apart.

“Miss you too, baby,” you confess, pulling back just a little before pulling his sweater off, “I hate being away from you.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he marvels as his hands trace over your body, “I still can’t believe that you’re all mine. That you fucking chose me.”

“I’ll choose you every time, Huckleberry,” you moan as he massages your breasts, kneading your nipples between his fingers.

Once again, it’s never been lost on you how toxic the dance you two do is. You two can’t keep trying to solve everything with sex, you two have a child who sees the toxic relationship you two have daily, and your relationship is on its last leg.

All of that being said, you can’t fucking stop, because Lloyd is everything to you. Your family is everything to you. Everything you’ve ever wanted is everything Lloyd has given to you. The sad fact of the matter is, no matter how bad things are, you know you’ll never have the strength to tell him ‘no’. Hell, even if you two do breakup again, you wouldn’t deny him access to you any time he wanted.

That’s the hardest part about being in love with a devil. They’re a million and ten things wrong with Lloyd, and he was right: you knew all this and still started on this twisted and deranged fairy-tale with him. You should be repulsed by him, and it was a lot easier to be in high school when he was a preppy asshole, but for you? For you, Lloyd would do practically anything. He’s your sweetheart, your best friend, your comedian, your knight in shining armor, and he’s the love of your life.

He’s your Huckleberry.

In a matter of moments, your boxer shorts are off and you’re on top of him, ignoring all of the voices in your head telling you that this is a horrible idea.

“Fuck,” you sigh, slowly sinking yourself down on his cock, digging your nails into his shoulder as he pulls you apart, “oh God!”

“You look so fucking beautiful when you’re on top, Hummingbird,” he growls, gripping your hips tight as you start to grind your hips against, “and this fucking pussy!”

“Lloyd,” you whimper, trying to keep quiet as you chase the high only he can give you.

“Gonna do better for you, Hummingbird...be the man you deserve,” he promises as he starts to pump up into you hard and fast.

“SHIT!”

So much for being quiet.

“C’mon Hummingbird, give me what I need,” he begs, watching you in pure awe as you try and hang on, his hands finds its way between your legs and starts massage your clit, “been way too long, Hummingbird!”

“Oh God, please...yes! YES! FUCK!” you cry out, squirting hard on his cock, almost falling forward.

At some point, some point soon, you need to look into therapy for Travis.

“All for me and we’re just getting started,” he pants with a grin before getting you on your back, “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight,” he promises before kissing you passionately as he starts to pump into you hard and fast.

“I love...love you so much, baby,” you moan, cupping his face as you let yourself get lost in the lie all over again.

“Yeah? Show much just how much tonight,” he whispers hotly against your ear, his hands caressing your body before nipping on your earlobe.

Yes, somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that the promises that are being made in this moment won’t stand when you’re able to think clearly, but you don’t care. Right now, you just can’t. You’ve been in love with Lloyd for so long and, if all you can do is live in the make believe world of happiness you two always find a way to make for yourselves, then you’ll take it.

You’ve missed your husband, you’ve missed his touch, you’ve missed him being buried deep inside of you, and you’ve missed feeling complete. Lloyd may be a complete and total monster, but he’s the only person whose ever made you feel seen and understood. Lloyd is perfect for you, except for all of the parts of him that aren’t.

How the hell are you ever supposed to feel secure in the choice you have to make? Being with him is the most draining and exhausting thing you’ve ever done, but being without him is absolute Hell and makes you feel insanely alone and depressed. There truly feels like no right answer.

You two spend the next couple of hours professing your love to one another, getting lost in the love that you feel for one another (which started all those years ago), and promise each other that you’ll work it all out.

You truly want to believe that you two will work it all out, because you don’t know how you’re supposed to go without him again. It just doesn’t feel possible.

“I called my Mother earlier,” Lloyd sighs, getting back into bed with you after cleaning you up, “she said she’ll take Travis for the week.”

“Why is he staying with your parents?”

“Why not?”

“Cause there’s no fucking structure in your family.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Hummingbird.”

“I’m sorry, have you not met yourself?”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.”

“After the conference, we’re gonna go away and talk this out,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re find a way to make this work.”

“Lloyd-”

“I can’t be without you, Hummingbird. I can’t and I won’t. We’re gonna make this work,” he promises, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close. “We can make this work...we can be good again, Hummingbird,” he sighs, kissing the back if your neck softly.

You slowly start drifting off, feeling more relaxed and at ease then you have in weeks. You’re finally back where you belong, but you can’t stop one question from racing through your brain:

Were you two even really good to begin with?

“Mr. and Mrs Hansen,” Travis’ principle sighs, “this isn’t the first time we’ve had to talk about Travis’ behavior.”

No, you and Lloyd aren’t married again, but you’re still wearing the engagement ring, so who are you to correct her? Besides, you really do miss being Mrs. Hansen.

“You’re right, it isn’t, but Travis went to you and told you-”

“Our sweet boy has a broken nose! Your son-”

“Your son has been bullying mine for months!” you snap at Mrs. Heston, the mother of the kid Travis punched.

“So, your son had the right to respond with violence? Is that what you teach in your home?” Mr. Heston scoffs in a tone of pure disbelief.

“Better to teach our son to stand up for himself than to teach him to be a little rude little bitch,” Lloyd snarls.

“Mr. Hansen!” the principle reprimands.

“Listen,” you quickly interrupt in a weak attempt to defuse the situation, “Travis shouldn’t have hit Maxwell and he knows that, HOWEVER, Travis had come to you about it and you did nothing about it.”

“Boys will be boys, you know that,” Mrs. Heston chuckles, “he was only teasing-”

“I don’t think you would find it all that fucking funny if the shoe were on the other foot,” you snarl, quickly loosing all composure.

“No, it is by no means funny what happened to your son, and we’re truly happy he’s okay, but that doesn’t make up for him breaking our son’s nose. Your child is violent and on his way to becoming a delinquent,” Mr. Heston finishes with a huff and a nod.

You should’ve known that if you didn’t snap on one of these idiots, Lloyd would.In almost an instant, Lloyd is on the other side of the room and landing a blow to Mr. Heston’s face.

“Lloyd,” you sigh with a frustrated groan, grabbing your purse and getting up.

“You and your son a two little pieces shit,” Lloyd growls, ignoring you and the fact that hes now terrified the Hestons and the principal as he steps on the man’s chest, “and I’ll see both of you useless cum stains in hell,” he spits. “Don’t worry about Travis making up for time lost, because we’re pulling him out of this shit cage. The place is run by a bunch of morons anyway.”

“Mr. Hansen! We can work something-”

“We’re done here,” he says with a shrug before strutting out as if he hadn’t just scared the shit out of everyone with his temper.

No matter how hard he tries, they’re just some things about Lloyd Hansen that’ll never change.

“Mrs. Hansen-”

“You heard him: we’re done here,” you glare before following him out. “Lloyd-”

“Why don’t I ever fucking listen? And why the fuck don’t I ever listen?!”

“This isn’t field work, babe,” you sigh, taking your hand in his, “you can’t just hit people in the face-”

“You heard them! They weren’t taking accountability for their snot nosed little shit-”

“Lloyd, who do you thinks deals with all of this when you’re gone or too caught up with work? I know how they talk about him, how they see us, and I see the judgemental stares. I know how infuriating all of it is, but you can’t just fly off the handle because someone got under your skin.”

“Since when?”

“Since this isn’t your world. This is Travis’ world and you need to remember that your actions effect his life. Yeah, I’m happy that we’re finally pulling him out of hell hole, but he still has one or two friends. You don’t think this will get out?”

“It’s annoying...you always being right is annoying,” he sighs, finally coming to a stop, facing you, and leaning his forehead against yours as you giggle softly. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, I’m not the only one you owe an apology to.”

“Yeah, when we get back.”

“Why did you ask your Mom to take him for the week?”

“We need more than a weekend to talk this shit out, and I’m sure Travis needs a break from me and all my bullshit. My Mom adores the shit out of him and I know my Dad will keep him busy with books and sports talk.”

“There’s still no fucking structure at your parents place.”

“Next time, we’ll let him stay at your parents place,” he mumbles, “lets get out of here.”

“We to do the paperwork-”

“My assistant will take care of it. We need to get out of here before I break something.”

“You and that temper of yours,” you smirk before resuming your trip out of the building.

“It’s not like you fell in love thinking I was some fucking choir boy.”

“You are in fact correct, Huckleberry.”

“There’s my good little Hummingbird,” he coos and you start laughing.

God, please let this trip help the both of you, because you don’t know how the hell he’ll survive without you.

Or how you’ll survive without him.

The drive to wherever the hell Lloyd rented for you two is starting to feel like it’ll never end.

“Lloyd, can you please just tell me-”

“Hummingbird, stop asking.”

“We’ve been in the car for three and a half hours!”

“We’ve stopped for food and snacks-”

“That’s not the point, Lloyd! I’m tired of being in the car!”

“You weren’t this fussy when I drove you to the farm to propose to you.”

“Yes I was!”

“You were? I guess I was more nervous than I thought,” he says nonchalantly.

“Wait, you were nervous-”

“We’re here!” he announces, letting you know he won’t be diving back into that for the time being.

You begrudgingly turn attention to the windshield and gasp, “Lloyd!”

“I know this isn’t necessarily going to be fun, but I still wanted to try for you. You’ve been wanting to take a trip to the mountains for years, and I thought could at least soften some of the blows.”

“I don’t want to spend a week arguing with you, babe.”

“It’s not like I want to, and this is on me, but you’re the one who keeps saying that we have to be honest with one another about this shit. I want this to work. Us to work. So, lets rip off the band-aid.”

“Thank you, Lloyd. I love you.”

“I love you too, Hummingbird...ya know,” he starts with a mischievous grin, “we don’t have to start this thing off with an argument.”

“I swear to God,” you laugh as he unlocks the doors.

“There’s my good girl.”

The instant he’s on your side of the car, he’s opening your door, throwing you over his shoulder, and you can’t stop from giggling and kicking your legs a little as he rushes up the steps to unlock the front door. He’s quick to kick the door closed and is moving so fast that you barely get to take in the blur that is the house around you.

Well, it’s more like a mansion.

“Can’t wait to get you upstairs,” Lloyd husks as he sets you down on the kitchen counter, “I need you to make me feel better in only the way you can, and I need it now.”

“Take what you need, daddy,” you moan at the feel of his fingers skillfully undoing your jeans.

“Such a good girl,” he smirks, roughly pulling your pants off, and ripping your panties off, “you wore my favorite red lace ones? Aww, daddy will make it up to you later, sweetie. For now, daddy’s gonna abuse this this fucking body until he’s fucking satisfied, understand me?” he states firmly, sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Please,” you sigh, ecstasy taking over your body as lay back on your on your elbows, “do your worst daddy, please!”

“Daddy’s good little slut.”

“Anything for you!”

You writhe in pleasure as he starts to massage your clit, opting to take off your shirt and your bra, because you know what’s coming and you need to feel all of him when it finally gets to that point.

“Fuck! Need to...fuck!”

“Daddy didn’t say you can cum yet,” he taunts condescendingly, slapping your cunt with his other hand.

“DADDY!”

“You better not fuckin cum until I say so,” he warns, his voice menacing, only making you clench around his fingers, “been so long since you’ve been my little hasn’t it?”

“Too fucking long, daddy,” you moan as you start to massage your breasts, a silent gasp escaping your lips as you start kneading your nipples between your fingers.

“Change of plans, sweetie, you’re gonna finish off in daddy’s mouth.”

Instantly, Lloyd pulls you to the edge of the smooth marble countertop, dips down and starts sucking and pulling on your clit, and you buck your hips as you arch your back. Yeah, you two spent hours making up for lost time last night, but this is so much more different. Last night was all about apologies and making each other feel the love you’d both felt you’d been lacking, but right now? Right now is all about getting out all of those pent up feelings of anger and aggression, and not even towards each other. You haven’t forgotten that a few short hours ago, he punched a man in the face and practically stomped on his chest.

Yeah, you love the punishments he gives you, and it’s been entirely too long, but if denies you of an orgasm you may actually commit a crime.

“You’re so fucking good to me, daddy!” you whimper, eyes welling up with tears as you grip his hair and start grinding your pussy against his face. When you removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue, you know you can’t hold on any longer, “please!”

With one hand, he grips your thigh tight, while teasing your clit with his thumb with the other, and you know he’s giving you his permission, thank God. You scream his name, gripping his hair tighter than you mean (you know he doesn’t give a shit), trying to enjoy the feel of him tongue fucking you through your high, but it isn’t enough.

You need more.

“Such a desperate, needy little thing,” he pants with a grin, clearly satisfied with his work as he stands up and looks you over, your juices shinning in his mustache.

“Daddy,” you beg pathetically, chest heaving as you prop yourself up on your shoulders, “please.”

“Please what?” he growls, unzipping his pants as he looks you over in your wrecked state, making no attempt to hide how much he wants to destroy you.

“Fuck me.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk, daddy. Destroy me, please!” you beg as your hand slides between your legs and you start to massage your clit. “Or do I have to remind you how to do it?”

In the blink of an eye, Lloyd pulls you off the counter, turns you around and pins your hands behind your back with one hand, forces you against the counter, and thrusts himself inside of you.

“FUCK!”

“You think you’re so fucking cute, don’t you?” he snarls as he slams into you hard and fast. “Thinking I forgot how to take care of what’s mine? Like I don’t know how the fuck to satisfy you?”

“DADDY!”

“Don’t go fucking stupid on me now, you little bitch! Answer the fucking question!”

All you can do is lull your head back as you scratch up your own wrists, getting lost in pure pleasure at feel of his breath on your neck.

Lloyd isn’t having that.

With his free hand, he grips your hair tight, pulls it tight and says, “I want a fucking answer. You get your fucking pussy eaten and forget how to respond? I asked you a fucking question!”

“Daddy!”

“Don’t tell me it’s too much for you now. Already fucked so stupid that you can’t answer a simple fucking question?” he asks, relentlessly fucking into you as he pulls your hair harder.

“I...I know you can fuck me good, daddy! I’m sorry-”

“Not yet, you little bitch!” he growls as he grips your throat. “Don’t ever make that mistake again, you understand me?!”

“Anything you say, daddy!” you sob, climax building as you try and fight off another release. “I’ll be so good for you!” “You bet your fucking ass you will be!” he growls as his grip on your neck gets tighter. “Pussy is so fucking tight...such a sweet little whore! Cum for daddy! Make a mess and cum so fucking hard for me, sweet girl!”

“FUCK!”

As you squirt hard on his cock (you’re more than sure you’ve gotten it on his pants), and your legs tremble as they struggle to hold you upright, you can’t help but wonder why Lloyd is the only person who can satisfy your needs.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as your eyes flutter shut and you lull your head back. “Remember when we first started fucking? No one had ever been inside that tight little fucking asshole,” he taunts as his hand travels down your body, before reaching your ass and slapping it hard.

“Daddy!”

“Do you remember?”

“Fuck...yes! Yes, your cock is the only one...the only one thats been in my ass!”

“Been so long...think I might have to stretch out this tight little ass after I eat it. What do ya think, honey?”

“Please, daddy! Anything you want!” you whimper tugging at his shirt, “please!”

“What does my queen need?” he husks hotly against your ear, his grip tightening a little and you know he’s close.

“Please...take it off...wanna feel all of you!”

“Anything you want,” he promises with a grunt before forcing you to bend over the countertop, releasing your hands, taking his top off, and gripping your hips, tight. “You’re gonna cum hard for me while I fill you up, then you’re clean daddy off, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’m satisfied, you understand me, sweet girl?”

All you’re able to get out is a garbled moan as you claw at the countertop, too lost in the pleasure of him fucking you like his own personal rag doll.

“Daddy’s perfect little girl,” he chuckles darkly, “my favorite little cum slut, come on, baby, give me what I want!” he demands slamming his hips into you as he fills you to the brim.

Your brain may not be able to respond properly, but your body is on autopilot. You let out a pitiful moan as you squirt hard, laying your head against the cool marble top as your legs almost give out again.

“Always making such a pretty mess for me, baby,” he coos softly as he strokes your ass while pulling out, before slapping your it hard, “now clean me up!” he demands harshly.

What the hell were you two even supposed to be arguing about this week?

You do your best to get on your knees quickly, but the idea of functioning in any way is somewhat lost on you, and you know Lloyd loves it. Yeah, Lloyd loves when you’re a little sex vixen, but he also loves when he turns you into a puddle. The only thing that Lloyd loves more than your tears from getting lost in euphoria, is you being completely weak and a giant puddle.

He loves that, after all this time, he still makes you feel better than anyone else ever has and ever will.

“Look up at me, honey. Let me see that beautiful little face,” he demands condescendingly as he grips your face.

You can’t even begin to imagine how fucking wrecked you look. You’re more than sure your mascara is ruined, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you have a dazed and fucked out look on your face.

You look exactly the way he loves.

“My beautiful little cum dump,” he snickers, “open.”

You instantly obey and he doesn’t even give you a chance to prepare yourself for him, before he starts roughly face fucking you. The crazed look in his eyes only makes you crave him more, and the devilish smirk playing on his lips lets you know that he knows what’s going on in your brain.

“Need me to stuff that pussy with this fat cock again, Hummingbird? Make you cum until you pass out and I’m still fucking you? You miss that so much don’t you?” he teases as he grips your hair tighter.

You can only moan in response, but you know he knows that you’re agreeing with him. As much as you love Travis, things changed drastically once he was brought into the picture.

As they should have.

Yes, you and Lloyd still had what some may call ‘wild sex’ (Tina did), but you two brought it down a lot. There would be no way in hell for the two of you to explain to a three year old why Lloyd’s balls deep in your ass while you have a ball gag in your mouth, and your hands are bound behind your back.

Maybe that’s also a factor that you hadn’t thought of when it comes to the reason as to why you two fell apart.

No, you two didn’t make sex your entire relationship, but it definitely played an important part. You were just as sexual and perverse in your sexual desires as Lloyd was, and when the arguments started to become more and more, the sex became less and less. It’s not like either of you wanted it to happen, but the angrier you two got, the harder it was for you two to separate angry sex from mind-numbing, passionate sex.

Lack of conversation, lack of passion, lack of sex...all of it truly played a part in the downfall of your relationship, but you can’t focus on that right now. Not when you two have each other like this, vulnerable and out in the open like this. Yes, you two would have date nights when Travis would go and stay with his friends or his grandparents, but it wasn’t the same, because you both were waiting on him to call and ask either of you to pick him up. No, this was different because, for the first time in a long time, you two had real alone time together.

Neither of you were about to ruin it with drama that hadn’t even stared yet.

“Tell me how much you need, daddy, Hummingbird,” Lloyd moans as he continues to fuck your mouth. “You love when I fucking destroy you for anyone else?”

You don’t even make an effort to try and push him off so you can answer him. You just keep taking the assault he gives you, hoping your eyes tell him everything you need to say but can’t.

“Daddy should reward you, shouldn’t he?” he chastises as he grips your hair and forces you off his cock.

God help you.

Without any hesitation, he’s pulling you up, before picking you up and forcing your legs around his waist.

“You did so good for daddy, Hummingbird,” he praises as he thrusts himself inside of you, and you gasp at the feel of him splitting you apart all over again. “Always been such a good little whore for me, baby,” he coos as he softly drags his nose across your collar bone. “So filthy and so beautiful, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

“Only ever for you, daddy,” you whimper, your head lulling back as he fucks into you as if hes been without you for years.

Easily enough, he maneuvers around the house, as if hes been there a million times, as he kisses you all over, the hairs of his mustache tickling your chest lightly as you grip his hair and roll your hips against his. God, you can’t remember the last time you two were able to be so needy and desperate in the most pathetic way. Even though you two have been back together for a little over a year, you’re always the one to remind him that Travis is at the age where he can be emotionally scarred by the weird and kinky shit you two are into.

“Daddy’s gonna be nice and let you take what you want from him,” he groans as he takes a seat on the couch, licking your chest with the tip of his tongue and it sends a shiver down your spine as you feel him go deeper inside of you.

“Missed you so much,” you whimper as you start to ride him, “haven’t had you like this in forever, daddy!”

“Yeah? You missed being fucked like the little desperate whore you are?”

“You know I do!”

“My poor little sweet thing,” he coos condescendingly as you pick up your pace, his hand snaking its way around your throat and gripping it tight, “been so unsatisfied because I haven’t been able to fuck in the torture room like I did a couple of months ago?”

“DADDY!”

“Took my cock so fucking well that night, baby, remember?” he questions as he presses kisses along your neck.

There’s no way you could forget that night. Travis had gone to bed early, you and Lloyd got into a drunken argument, you told him that you two needed to take it to the basement because you both were getting too loud and you didn’t wanna wake Travis, and it turned into fucking all night in positions you hadn’t done since college.

The next day, Travis kept asking you why you were walking so slow and funny, and you lied and told him you pulled something.

“Oh, someone’s close,” Lloyd smirks, as you clench around him at just the thought of that night.

“Feels so good to be your rag doll, daddy! So happy...so happy to please you!”

“Jesus, fucking cum for me right now, Hummingbird! Fucking make a mess all over this fucking sofa!”

“Can’t...need to fucking...oh my GOD!”

“Be a good girl for daddy and fucking cum!” he demands roughly.

It’s amazing how quickly you turn into putty for this man.

“God, YES!” you scream as your release washes over.

Lloyd gives you no chance to recover as he pins you down and starts fucking into you hard and fast.

“DADDY PLEASE!”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he grunts, his pace unrelenting as you claw at his back, “creaming all over my fucking cock like a desperate little whore!”

“I’m so fucking close!”

“Yeah you fucking are, and you’re gonna fucking ruin this sofa with that sweet cream between your fucking legs!”

“Oh my...FUCK! YES, PLEASE!”

“Give it to me, Hummingbird!”

“LLOYD!” you scream as you cream hard all over his cock, more than sure you’ve followed his command of making a mess on the sofa.

“Y/N!” he growls into your neck, his release filling you up, and you can’t help but smile at the feel of it leaking out and running down your ass cheeks. You both take a moment to get yourselves together, before Lloyd asks, “you had enough, Hummingbird?”

“Not even close,” you breathe.

“That’s my girl.”

You and Lloyd stay at it for hours, he has you in every room he can find (almost as if he’s christening the house), marking each other up, degrading each other, while also building each other up, and it’s heaven. You want to stay locked in this moment for the week, but you know you two have to deal with reality at some point.

“Daddy! Please don’t stop!” you cry out as Lloyd fucks into you relentlessly from behind, as you two fuck up the pillows in the master bedroom.

“Give me that sweet cream! Be the little slut you’ve always been and make a fucking mess!”

“Can’t...so close!”

“C’mon, I know my Hummingbird can-”

“FUCK!” you scream as his hand tightens around your neck, your orgasm hitting so hard your legs almost give out.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he growls as he fills you for what feels like the millionth time. “Always such a warm fucking finish,” he breathes as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

He rides out both of your highs before pulling out, collapsing next to you, and pulling you close. You lay your head on his chest, rest one of your hands on his pecs, and try to match his breathing.

It’s the closest you’ve felt to heaven in a long time.

“You ready to argue?” he asks once his breathing evens out.

“I guess so.”

“Lets fuckin have it out, Hummingbird.”

God help you both.

The arguments you two have in the next few days following your grand opening fuck fest are brutal to say the least.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Hummingbird,” Lloyd growled as he walked out of the kitchen and into the back patio.

“Well you’re gonna fucking hear about it! You’re the greediest son of a bitch, and I am tired of you acting like it’s everyone else with the fucking problem!”

“Hummingbird, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve being mad about a fucking job that keeps a roof over your head-”

“I had my own fucking job that kept a roof over Travis and I’s head-”

“And where is that job now?!”

“Watch it, Hansen,” you warned, “lets not get into the fucking blame game here, because we both know it wasn’t me who lost me that fucking job!”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! You’ve always known that my job comes with a level of-”

“Oh my God! You’re a fucking sociopath that has a nice fucking government job to hide behind!”

“You know that’s not-”

“It is! Stop lying to me like I’m someone who hasn’t known the darker parts of you-”

“EXACTLY! YOU FUCKING KNEW!” he roared at you. “You’ve known since that, and I’m pretty fucking sure since before then too! I backed off and gave you a chance to leave, and you sought me out! Don’t make it seem like I dragged you into hell! You willingly came-”

“THEN WE HAD A FUCKING CHILD, LLOYD! Why is it so preposterous that I wanted you to pull back, you selfish fuck?! What the fuck did you expect me to do?! I didn’t stray from the career path, you did! And you sure as shit made sure to tell me about it after you made your choice!”

“Then why did you say ‘yes’?!”

“Because I love you, you stupid sack of shit! I love you and, I don’t know, I thought that we’d have some sort of fucking future together, because you kept talking about settling down and having a family! Then, in trying to fucking start that family with you, I had two fucking miscarriages that you couldn’t even be bothered to notice, because you were too wrapped up in yourself to even fucking notice anything! For fucks sake, did you even want Travis? Or was it just to feed into this version of yourself that you were trying to create?! Jesus, do you even fucking love him?!” you shouted, instantly regretting it.

“FUCK YOU!” he spat. “You fucking know that you and him are my entire universe-”

“THEN WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING ACT LIKE IT?!” you screamed as your tears finally started to fall. “You make us feel like the biggest burdens, when all we’re trying to do is be a part of your world-”

“MY WORLD IS TOO DARK FOR THE BOTH OF YOU!”

“THEN WHY THE HELL ARE YOU FIGHTING SO HARD TO SAVE THIS FUCKING DEAD END MARRIAGE?!” you sobbed before you stormed back into the house.

You both would take things entirely too far, holding each other accountable for every terrible crime you two had committed against each other, and wanting one another to know that neither of you was blameless in the downfall of the marriage. However Lloyd, being the secret sweetheart that he is, would make sure you two didn’t go to bed mad at one another.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed as he approached the bedroom, leaning against the door frame.

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you sniffled with a halfhearted chuckle as you wiped your eyes.

“I constantly ask why you didn’t just leave, like I didn’t bother the fuck out of you, and that’s not fair. The moment I laid eyes on you, I needed you and I didn’t want you with anyone else. In High School, I knew I didn’t have a chance, but college? I told myself that I’d be a version of myself that you deserved. I tried to fit into a roll that I never had any business trying to to even get close to. I really want to be that guy for you, Hummingbird. The guy. My actions never follow up, and...I know it’s on me and I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did about you loving Travis. I know how much you love the both of us, it’s never been a question, and that was a low blow. I’m really sorry, Lloyd.

“I love you, Hummingbird.”

“I love you too, Huckleberry.”

“Maybe we should start leaving certain things off the table?”

“Maybe we should start learning how to control our tempers,” you giggled as he made his way into the bed room. He was slow to get to the bed, but was quick to pull you close. “I want to save this “dead end marriage”, because you and Travis are my entire life and I need to start acting like it.”

“Why is it so simple for you in these moments, but-”

“Please don’t ask, because I don’t fucking know. I really don’t, but I know that I do truly want to make this work. I know I don’t always act like it or always show it, but I fucking mean it, Hummingbird. I exist for you and Travis and you and Travis alone. I will be better, and I know I keep saying that and fucking up, but I will be.”

“Lloyd, would it be so terrible if we just walked away-”

“You know it would be. Don’t do that. Don’t ask questions-”

“We’re always hurting one another-”

“No, I’m always hurting you and lashing out at you when you rightfully get angry. Losing you is one of the hardest things I’ve ever dealt with, with almost losing Travis coming in at number one with almost dying. Being without either of you is something I can’t do.”

“Lloyd...” you trailed off with a sob.

“Hummingbird,” he cooed softly as he gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, “we can do this. You’re right when you say this isn’t college and we can’t keep going on like we have, and I know it’s on me. It’s on me and I swear I’m gonna do better. Please, just don’t give up on us. It’s a hard ask, but please.”

“Lloyd...”

“Please,” he begged softly before he started to litter the side of your neck with soft and desperate kisses. “Please.”

That’s when you were always at war with yourself. You knew what came with the soft and sweet moments: the darkness and chaos of his world. However, Lloyd is your world, and walking away isn’t as easy as everyone would like for it to be.

“How’re you?” Travis asked via FaceTime as you took a seat at the patio outside. “Where’s Dad?”

“I’m good. We both are. He’s at the grocery store.”

“Are you two coming back soon? I love Gran and Poppy, but they’re driving me crazy. I asked to go and see Nana and Pop-pop and Gran damn near threw a fit.”

“Travis!”

“Well, she did!” he huffed as he settled onto his bed. “How did you even end up with Dad? Your families are so different. You two are so different.”

“Sometimes opposites just attract,” you sighed, knowing where it was headed.

“I just don’t get it. Dad’s an asshole. He’s either here and ruining everyone’s mood, or he’s buried in work and acting like we don’t exist.”

“He’s adjusting. It’s hard, Trav. We’re all adjusting, because the life we’re trying to have now is a lot different from the one we had before.”

“Yeah, but you left him.”

“It’s not because I don’t love him anymore. Honey, we both love each other so much, and your Father would do absolutely anything for you.”

“I know,” he muttered.

“He’s trying, baby.”

“Well, he needs to try harder.”

“Travis, I know it’s hard, trust me, but you have to have patience with him. No matter what happens between he and I, he’s always going to be your Father and he thinks the world of you. Even if he doesn’t always act like it.”

“I just wish he could be normal.”

“There’s no such thing as normal, sweetie. I hate to break it to you.”

“Normal dads don’t punch other dads in the face.”

“He was being a total dick and it was more than warranted. Sometimes, your Dad shows his love with his fists.”

“But it’s a problem when I do it.”

“When you start making a living off if, maybe I’ll reconsider it,” you smiled sarcastically as you took a sip of wine. “Just...give him a chance, honey. He stopped doing field work to be closer to home and keep an eye on us, but it’s a major change for him too. It’s a major change for all of us, and we’re all doing our best.”

“I liked him a lot more when he wasn’t home.”

“Travis...please. If you only knew just how much he truly loves you.”

“What does he even do?”

“You know he works with your Godfather.”

“Doing what?”

“Things you’re not old enough to know about yet, and you don’t want to know about.”

“I’ve almost died twice-”

“And he feels terrible about that! Travis, I’ve only ever seen your Father cry once, and it was when you were fighting for your life. He still hates himself for that.”

“Mom-”

“Travis, he’s not a bad guy. He may gray the area sometimes, but when it comes to this family, he’s not a bad guy. Please.”

“I know that he loves me, and I love him. I want us all to be together, but not if he’s going to keep-”

“He’s not. Travis, I promise. He knows that things have to change and he’s determined to make those changes. Please, just be patient. I know you’ve dealt with a lot, but everyone is doing their absolute best. It’s going to get better. No matter what happens between your Father and I, things are going to get better for you.”

“Do I really get to be home schooled?”

“Yup, it was all your Dad’s doing.”

“Really?”

“Yup, he finally gets it.”

“I miss going to the aquarium with him.”

“Have you told him?”

“No.”

“Do you think you should?”

“He doesn’t seem to wanna be bothered by me.”

“Trav, he misses you too. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to spend time with you. He thinks you hate him.”

“Well, I think he doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Travis, I swear to God-’

“Gran doesn’t care!”

“And look how your Father turned out. There’s no fucking structure in that family,” you muttered before you could stop yourself, “do NOT say that.”

“Everyone can swear except me.”

“Stop being in such a rush to grow up. It sucks,” you laughed before taking a sip of your drink.

“Can we all go to a movie or something when you two get back?”

“Funny you should ask, because your Dad got us tickets to a Patriots game next week-”

“HE DID?!”

“He thought it’d be make you happy,” he laughed softly. “He really wants to make things right, honey. I know it’s a lot and it’s not easy, but he’s trying. Just give him time, okay?”

“Fine. I guess it’s not-”

“TRAVY!” Stef, Lloyd’s Mother called and you rolled your eyes.

“I swear to God that’s the dumbest nickname ever,” you scowled.

“Why do you hate her so much?”

“I don’t hate your Grandmother, she’s just...a lot to deal with. Look at your Father.”

“You chose him.”

“That I did,” you laughed. “Go see what she wants before she has a breakdown. I love you and your dad and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“I love you too, Mom. I can’t wait till you’re both back,” he smiled before hanging up.

For just a moment, your heart felt lighter and you were happier, but it all went away when you saw Lloyd leaning against the doorway.

“How much did you hear?” you asked softly.

“Lets go for a hike, Hummingbird,” he shrugged as he pushed himself off the door frame and slid his shoes back on.

“Lloyd-”

“It makes no sense to come all the way out here and not doing something you love. It’s been forever, c’mon.”

The drive was silent, and the hike was silent too, until you reached the waterfalls and you two took a seat.

“He hates me,” Lloyd muttered after a moment.

“Lloyd-”

“Don’t try to butter me up, Hummingbird. He hates-”

“He doesn’t hate you, Huckleberry, he just doesn’t know you. At least, not anymore. Who you were before the incident and who you are now...you’re not the same with him.”

“I don’t want him to be soft and unprotected-”

“You don’t have to be your Father, Lloyd. It’s best if you aren’t,” you chuckled humorlessly.

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Look at our family, Huckleberry. Look at us. No, your Father isn’t terrible, but he’s the farthest from the best.”

“You love me.”

“And I’m still trying to figure out why,” you smirked.

“Come here,” he encouraged with a devilish smirk.

“Lloyd-”

“Come rest in my lap, Hummingbird.”

You knew that it would only lead to trouble, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you straddled him.

“Daddy-”

“Remember the last time we were in front of a waterfall? That’s when you got pregnant with Travis.”

“Daddy-”

“Lets see if we can recreate that night...minus the bonfire,” he chuckled before he started biting sucking on your sweet spot.

Yes, a lot of days (if not all of them) had ended with sex, but it was nothing like when you two were fucking to avoid the problem at hand. You two were making love because you wanted to make up for lost time and because you both just wanted to feel close again. It feels like it’s been forever since you and Lloyd just got to hangout and you truly did miss your best friend.

“I think our son is gonna kill your parents,” you giggle as you make your way out onto the upper deck.

“Yeah, I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago. Next time, we’ll leave him with your parents,” he mutters as he pulls you down onto his lap.

“How’d that conversation go?”

“Good. He wants to go to the aquarium when we get back. Just me and him, he thanked me for finally deciding on home schooling, and I apologized for being a complete jackass for the last few months...and before that.”

“Both my boys finally getting along again,” you sigh a small smile on your lips as you rest your head on his shoulder. “I feel bad. We should rent this house again and bring him next time. He’d love it. Like his Mother, he’d hate the drive, but he’d love it here.”

“We can bring him here whenever we want. This is our house.”

“I’m sorry, come again?! you exclaim, sitting up and looking directly at him.

“It’s ours,” he chuckles, perfect showing just a bit, “well, if you decide you want there to be an us. I had it built for you. No matter what you decide, I wanted to give you something big, and I feel like this is a good start.”

“Lloyd...”

“We’ve been together for how long and I just did this for you? I owe you so much, and I figure this was the easiest to start with.”

“Lloyd! This had to cost a fortune!”

“Don’t worry about it-”

“Oh God, who did you kill?”

“What does that mean?”

“Whenever you’ve told me not to worry about something, it’s because you killed someone.”

“Name one time-”

“The boss I had before my last one. I told you that I didn’t get the promotion, and the very next day, I had the promotion and my boss was dead.”

“He was an asshole.”

“You still killed him.”

“You let me fuck you so hard we broke the bed. You didn’t seem too torn up about it.”

“I called you a piece of shit all night,” you retort with an eye roll.

“Well, not all night. You did let stick that-”

“LLOYD!”

“I didn’t kill anyone, Jesus Christ,” he laughs, grip on you tightening a little. “Denny did.”

“Jesus!”

“It was all business related. I’m a million miles away from it. Any way, the person who needed the favor, offered Denny anything he wanted, Denny asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted this.”

“Why did he ask you what you wanted?”

“He feels bad. He doesn’t care about much, but he cares about this family cause it’s his too, and he can’t help but feel slightly responsible for the current state we’re in.”

“Do my ears deceive me? Are Lloyd Hansen and Denny Carmichael actually...soft?” you question with a gasp, feigning surprise.

“Watch it, Hummingbird,” he warns and you flip him off.

“You don’t scare me, Hansen. My crazy can match yours.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.”

“You were nervous to propose to me?” you question, remembering how quickly he changed the subject once he pulled up to the house.

“Of course I was,” he scoffs as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You didn’t seem nervous.”

“Why do I feel like you wanna have a long talk about this?”

“Because you’re as smart as you are pretty,” you smile sarcastically and he rolls his eyes.

“Inside, Hummingbird. If we’re gonna talk about my fucking feelings, I’m gonna need a fucking drink.”

“That’s not a good habit,” you mumble as he picks you up and forces your legs around his waist.

“Yeah well, you have me in a rare position and that’s terrifying to me too,” he shrugs while opening the screen door, smirking as he looks down your exposed cleavage in your low-cut shirt.

“What position is that?” you giggle as he rushes down the stairs.

“The position of me giving you whatever your heart desires.”

“Except quitting,” you sigh as he places you on the kitchen counter.

“You and I both know there’s gotta be some work around from me quitting. I agree, I need to handle all of this shit better, but quit and do what, Hummingbird?”

“You could be a coach, open your own weapons store, work on the analytics team for the Patriots, work for fucking Harvard-”

“You know good and fucking well that none of those jobs will keep me and my issues at bay.”

“Lloyd-”

“Can we have one argument at a time?”

“I don’t wanna argue about this!”

“We always argue about it! This is what the hold up is with our relationship, isn’t it? You’re in love with someone who’s fucked up in multiple ways, and I won’t let you go because you and Travis are the one thing in this world that I actually give a damn about. The one thing that you can’t deal with is the job, and it’s not even because it makes you look at me in a different light. You’ve seen what I’ve done, you’ve done what I’ve done, and you get it. The issue isn’t that you hate what I do, it’s that it’s a risk a to Travis, and you hate that. You hate it because you should be repulsed by what I do and how I am, and it should’ve been enough to make you walk away years ago, but it wasn’t. Now, you have an unhinged husband and a child fighting for normalcy, and unlike me, us having a child was enough for you to realize that things needed to change.”

“Then why can’t you-”

“BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW TO, HUMMINGBIRD!” he shouts, and you feel his heart break at his confession. “I am not like you! I can’t just look at the fucked up shit I do and say, “it’s time to find something else.”! No, I keep thinking I can fix everything and save everyone, because I don’t know how to be normal around our son without doing all of the dark bullshit you don’t want to know about! So yes, that is where we keep getting stuck, because neither of us can find a solution!”

“Lloyd-”

“I know I’m not easiest to love, Hummingbird. I know that I’ve made all of this hard since day one, but you stayed despite all of it. You stayed and made me feel normal and safe, and how could I not fall more in love with you? Now, this is where we are, and I can’t fucking blame you, I really can’t, but I can’t let either of you go. You want me to lay all my cards on the table? There they are. I don’t know how to be the man you need me to be without this job,” he sighs before he downs his drink.

You don’t even know how to respond, because everything he said is right. You hate that you’ve always been able to stomach and look away from the shit he does, because of how he is with you. Lloyd is capable of a lot of horrible things, but for you? He’s always been your knight in shinning armor. Granted, he’s a chaotic knight and shinning armor, but he’s still yours nonetheless. The fact of the matter is, if his job wasn’t so dangerous to Travis, you’d still look the other way. You’d look the other way, pretend it was all normal and okay, and go on with your happy family.

The reality of this makes you face a harsh truth: maybe Lloyd was never the issues. Maybe its always been you.

“Why were you nervous to propose?” you ask softly, faint smile playing on your lips as you blink back your tears.

“Hummingbird-”

“Why?”

“The same I’m nervous now: you don’t need me.”

“Lloyd-”

“It’s not a slight at you, Hummingbird, it’s just a fact. You’re smart as a whip, you can get any job you want, you’re gorgeous, you’re strong...you don’t nee me. Maybe that’s what always attracted me to you, maybe it’s what made me want to be better, and maybe it’s what drives me insane. What the hell would you ever need me for? To raise a kid? Travis is clearly better off with you,” he scoffs as he pours himself a drink and pours you one of your own. “Its been clear from day one that you don’t need shit from me, and that terrified me, because I needed you. I’ve always needed you and and I always will. You’re the normal one, I’m not,” he smirks as he puts your drink down next to you before settling between your legs.

“Huckleberry...”

“I need you to reel me back in, I need you to make simple fucking meals, I need you to tell me when I’m getting too high off the ground, I need your love, I need your patience, I need to hear your laughter, I need your understanding, I need your guidance...I needed you and I’ve never needed anyone. Even now, I need you more than you’ve ever needed me-”

“I really wish you knew how much that isn’t true. Lloyd...I didn’t feel like I was alive until I started...hanging out with you,” you laugh softly. “I’m able to be such a good Mom, because I know Travis has you to fall back on, if that makes any sense. I know you’re always in his corner, wanting the best for him, and always loving him. The love I know you feel for him is what keeps me strong when I feel like I’m doing all of this wrong. You attempting to make breakfast when I’m too tired and/or worn out to do it, you taking him for an extra week when you could tell that I needed to decompress over whatever war I’d gone through with my Mother...you know me, Lloyd. You know me better than anyone else ever has, and you’ll always know me better than anyone else ever will.”

“Tell me we can make this work,” he begs softly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I really want us to, and you’re right. You’re 100% right. If Travis weren’t in the picture, I would be able to keep continuing to stomach it and look the other way, but I can’t anymore. I love him too much- “

“You don’t think I do too?!”

“I never said that. I know you do, Lloyd-”

“Then why can’t you just trust-”

“Lloyd we’ve almost lost him twice. Something’s gotta give, Huckleberry. I can’t live in the constant state of fear and anxiety. I love you, but I can’t do it anymore. It’s not fair to Travis and it’s not fair to me.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Lloyd, you always-”

“Hummingbird, I will figure this out. Just...please,” he begs softly.

You look up into his eyes and you can tell that he means everything he’s saying. There’s still a part of you that’s telling you, you two should just stop now and save each from more battle wounds, but there’s also a bigger part of you that you and Lloyd aren’t finished yet and never will be.

“Lloyd, I’m done with the arguing, the back and forth, and you’ve gotta keep your shit together around Travis. Even if you and I are having an argument.”

“I swear.”

“Lloyd, I fucking mean it. I can’t keep being the only who gives while you just take-”

“Hummingbird, I swear, shit is gonna change. But don’t...”

His heavy sigh lets you know that he’s at war with himself about what he’s going to say.

“Jesus...I love you, Y/N. I will never stop and you’re my world. You and Travis...don’t say yes to me if this isn’t what you truly want. It was different before, and I get that. What I did, what you saw me do...if you want to leave, if you don’t truly want this anymore....Hummingbird...this is your out, cause if you say you’re staying then this is it. There’s no leaving, breaking up, time apart, separating...this is it, Hummingbird. If you want to end it all for good, you need to say so now,” he tells you sincerely.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you cup his face, “that is a hell of thing for you to say to me.”

Instantly, Lloyd picking you up, forcing your legs around his waist, and running towards the stairs as you burst out laughing.

“Lloyd! I have to make dinner!” you squeal as he effortlessly runs up the steps.

“Fuck dinner, What I want is right between those fucking perfect legs of yours!”

“Lloyd!”

“We’re in for a long night, Mrs. Hansen.”

As you and Lloyd keep each other up, getting lost in each other repeatedly and almost breaking the damn bed (again), an oddly calming feeling that you’ve never with him before. Yes, you’ve been in love with him forever, but there’s always been a sense of dread and stress in the back of your mind. It’s obviously never been enough for you to walk away, but it’s been enough to always make you wonder what exactly is wrong with you to stay in a relationship a very obvious sociopath.

However, as you two finally get back into the kitchen and you start on dinner as he goes over what he wants for wedding number two, something tells you that it’s gonna work out this time. You don’t know what it is, you don’t wanna think too much on what it could be, but you’ve felt this at ease before and you know it’s gonna be okay.

For the first time in a very long time, you know things are finally go the way they’re supposed to go.

4 Months Later...

“Where is he?!” you asked frantically as you made your into the frat house, seeing two guys with bloodied (and you’re assuming broken) noses, and one guy laid out with a black eye.

“In the game room, drunk as fuck,” Denny mumbled as he gave one of the guys an ice pack.

“What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know, Y/N. You know how he is. Lloyd is a fucking time bomb. One second, he’s fine and the next...”

“Why has no one ever fucking considered putting him on meds?!”

“I thought you met his parents three months ago?”

“Something had to trigger it though. What happened leading up to this brawl to end all brawls?” you scowled as you looked around the room.

There was one broken coffee table, multiple broken lamps, a shattered fish tank, a couple of broken chairs, a few destroyed pillows, and a broken desk.

You left him alone for two fucking days.

“I honestly don’t know. There was some fucking movie on...’Tombstone’, I think? I don’t know, it was on when I got here, anyway, there was some fucking scene with Doc Holliday in the hospital and his girl wasn’t there with him and Tim said “that goes to show that none of these bitches stick around when it gets tough.” Lloyd just lost it.”

“Fuck, I’ll take care of this-”

“Y/N, he’s not in a good mindset at all. Leave him alone.”

“I can handle him, Denny. You just make sure no one presses charges,” you told him softly before you made your way into the game room.

You took a deep breath before you closed the door behind you.

“What the fuck do you want?!” Lloyd slurred once his attention was on you, “don’t you have to go and study or some shit?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! It’s 2pm on a fucking Sunday!”

“I haven’t heard from you in two fucking days!”

“No, you haven’t seen me in two fucking days! Lloyd-”

“You’re gonna leave and I don’t need to deal with that shit, so, fuck you!”

“Lloyd, I swear to Christ-”

“You have no fucking reason to stay! Why? Because I killed some piece of shit for you?!”

“Lower your fucking voice, you idiot!” you snapped in a hushed tone as you made your way deeper into the room.

“What fucking reason do you have-”

“I just fucking told you I love you!”

“Two days ago and then you fucking disappeared on me-”

“I didn’t fucking disappear! I’m not you! I can’t just do whatever the hell I want because I’m on my parent’s money! I have to keep my grades up and study! I can’t be with you every fucking five seconds, because you need to be fucking babied!”

“You’re so full of shit!”

“Lloyd, I swear to God-”

“There’s something wrong with me, Hummingbird! What fucking reason do you have to stay with me?! What’s keeping you here?!”

“You,” you answered simply.

“Y/N-”

“Lloyd, I didn’t tell you I love you because you said it first. I said it because I meant it and I still do now. You don’t think I see the issues and the flaws? Of course I do. I saw them that night, but I still came back, didn’t I? I love you. For as flawed and fucked up as this all is, I still love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Doc Holliday’s wife-”

“It’s a fucking movie, Lloyd.”

“Based on real life!”

“Yeah, but you’re not Doc Holliday and I’m not Kate. I love you.”

“You’re gonna fucking leave.”

“Do you plan on fucking cheating on me?”

“You know that you’re the only for me.”

“Then we’ll be fine, because I feel the same about you. I love you and I’m in this. Yeah, you’re fucked up, but...I don’t know, we’ll figure it out. No one is perfect and this life isn’t some cookie cutter bullshit. I just know that how we feel about each other is real and it’s too fucking late for me to walk away because you’re unhinged.”

“Hummingbird-”

“I’m all in, Huckleberry, are you?”

“You’re just gonna push me to the side when all of this becomes too much for you.”

“That is a hell of a thing for you to say to me,” you smiled softly at him.

In no time at all, Lloyd picked up and placed you on the pool table, and kissed you passionately.

“Not here,” you giggled as he kissed down your jawline, “someone could walk in!”

“Then they’re welcome for giving them the best porno they’ll ever see,” he growled against your neck before biting down on it.

How did that whole situation feel like a lifetime ago?

“Why the hell did we invite both of our families over?” Lloyd whines as he makes his way into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you put the last layer of lasagna together.

“Because this is officially our new home, Travis has been doing really good with his homeschooling, you two have been getting along really well, we’ve been getting along really well, the wedding is back on track...I don’t know, it just felt like the thing to do,” you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“What are you not telling me, Hummingbird?”

“Now, why would you think I’m not telling you something?”

“Because I know that look and you’re keeping a secret.”

“How dare you say such a thing?”

“Hummingbird,” he growls into your neck as he grips your hips tight, “remember what happened the last time you tried to keep it a secret from me?”

“Daddy, you need to behave,” you moan, trying to ignore the arousal pooling between your legs.

“You ended up pregnant with Travis.”

“Both of our families are here, so you need to be on your best-”

“Dad,” Travis calls, clearly annoyed as he enters the kitchen.

“What,” Lloyd groans as buries his face into the crook of your neck and you start cracking up.

“Please come out here and break up this argument.”

“What the fuck-”

“Lloyd!” you snap.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“Gran and Nana are about to kill each other.”

“Which means my Mother is about to kill your Mother,” you mumble and Lloyd scowls.

“How is it, that both of our Fathers are here, and I still have to deal with this shit?”

“This is our present for not calling off the wedding. Go handle it.”

“Yeah fine, but we’re not done talking about this,” he warns before slapping your ass, letting go of you, and making himself a drink. “You,” he shoots towards Travis, “what did you try and do to resolve the issue?”

“I asked which one of them wanted to take me to that amusement park in Paris you told me about,” Travis shrugs and you almost fell over laughing.

He’s a Hansen indeed.

“Jesus Christ, you’re coming with me to resolve this shit.”

“OH MY GOD, LLOYD!”

“He’ll be fine,” Lloyd smirks, as Travis chuckles before he walks off. “You know, this could’ve just been you, me, Travis, and Denny.”

“GO!” you scold with a laugh.

You’re quick to flip Lloyd off and laughs before walking out after Travis, and shake your head as a soft smile plays on your lips, and you resume finishing up the lasagna.

“Hummingbird,” Lloyd calls softly as he pokes his head back into the kitchen.

“Yes, Huckleberry?” you answer absentmindedly, as you open the oven.

“I love you.” Your eyes well up as you look up and meet his gaze, heart bursting at the innocent smile on his face, “I love you.”

He gives you a small wink, before going back and dealing with the chaos that is the both of your families.

Once the lasagna is in the oven, you lean back against the counter and think about that night in his frat house. The night where he was convinced that you would leave him, because there was no reason to stay, and a small smile came to your face. No, not because of how much he claimed to have needed you (in a way), but because of how far you two had come. Yeah, it’s been ugly and bumpy at times, but you two made your way back to each other.

A few weeks after you two got back, he tried to convince you that the two of you didn’t need therapy anymore, because the trip had gone so well. However, the look in your eyes let him know that he wasn’t get anywhere near close to winning that argument.

He’s gotten better at spending time with Travis, he does his best to not come home from work in a bad mood because he’s still doing paperwork (however, it’s still being worked on), he’s hands on with Travis and his school work, and he’s even started volunteering to be the coach of Travis’ football team.

You two have finally become the couple you always dreamt you’d be. You two are meant to be...for the most part.

“Someone seems pretty fucking proud of herself,” Denny chuckles as he makes his way into the kitchen, and you roll your eyes. “I just want you to know that I officially think you’re crazier than Lloyd, why the fuck would you have both you families here at the same time?”

“It just felt like it was time,” you mumble, “thanks for the house, by the way.”

“No problem. What did you feel like it was time for?”

“Denny-”

“I’m really proud of you two. Mainly, I’m proud of you for making that stubborn jackass see that it’s okay to have a soft side.”

“He’ll kill you if he ever finds out you said that. You know that right?”

“After all the shit I’ve saved his ass from, he’ll be fine. How are you managing both your families here with no wine or cigarettes?”

“Close your eyes and hold your breath long enough, it all just sounds like background noise.”

“It’s just funny to me, because the last time you did something like this-”

“MOTHER, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” Lloyd roars, and you can already tell this is about to get ugly.

“Oh, what the fuck is it now?” you whine as you and Denny make your way outside.

The scene in front of you makes your blood boil in almost an instant. The hors d’oeuvres you made are all over the table and the ground, there are broken wine glasses, Travis is sulking at the end of the table, Lloyd is covered in wine, and they’re two broken plates on the ground.

“What the fuck is going on?!” you scream, thankful that Denny is there to hold you back from lunging at...anyone, honestly.

“Y/N, watch your mouth in front of-”

“No!” you instantly snap at your Mother, as Lloyd quickly makes his way to your side, “you all are ruining my family’s home and I want answers! What the hell is the matter with all of you?! And why didn’t you two do anything to stop it?!” you snap at both and Lloyd’s Fathers.

“She started it!” Stef, Lloyd’s Mother yells, causing your Mother to throw a fork at her in response.

“MOM!”

“Travis wanted to come and see me while you two were away, and she wouldn’t allow it!”

“You don’t let him have any fun!”

“There’s no structure in your household! Look at how your son turned out!”

“I’m sorry, doesn’t your daughter live off of my son?!”

“Sure, that’s why your son defended me instead of his own Mother!”

“Oh my GOD! THE BOTH OF YOU NEED TO SHUT UP!” you yell, contemplating throwing something at the both of them. “Travis, are you okay?”

“Just another lovely family gathering,” he mutters with a shrug, and it breaks your heart.

“Listen, I am only going to say this once, so everyone listen closely. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with everyone and, at this point, I frankly don’t give a damn. Lloyd and I have been together long enough that, whatever petty bullshit you all have against each other should be over and dealt with by now!”

“You knew what you were signing up for when we all first met for the first time,” Lloyd’s father, Robert, laughs as he picks up his scotch and takes a sip of it.

You don’t even think about it, you just take off one of your flip-flops and throw it a him, hitting him directly in the head as Lloyd tries to stifle his laughter.

“Now,” you continue as you glare at Robert, “whatever issues Lloyd and I had in the past are our issues. Whatever issues we may or may not have in the future will be ours to deal with. All of this petty arguing ends now! I put a nice fucking dinner together to announce to all of you that I’m two months pregnant, and this is how you all act?!”

“I knew you were pregnant!” Denny exclaims and you glare at him. “What? I did. That’s the only reason you would be around all of these people with a drink or cigarettes,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“Anyway,” you begin again, “YOU’RE ALL FUCKING ADULTS! GROW UP AND ACT LIKE IT!” you snip and you hear a small gasp leave Lloyd lips. “I let you all act like this when Travis was born and raised him around this, but I’m not making that mistake again! Get your shit together or forget about coming to the wedding, and forget about being apart of Travis’ and this unborn child’s life! I’m so sick and tired of having to referee grown ass people! Now, clean all of this shit up!” you snap before getting out of Lloyd’s hold and turning around and making your way back inside. “You come into our house, throw around food I took forever to make, and break our shit?! ACT LIKE YOU’VE GOT SOME DAMN SENSE!” you scream as you make your way upstairs, limping slightly since you’re only wearing one shoe.

No, you probably shouldn’t have yelled at a room of adults, but you’ve had enough. You and Lloyd have been through the lowest levels of hell and back, and are finally in a good place, and for whatever reason they can’t seem to figure their shit out.

You sit down and lay back on the bed, pulling Lloyd’s pillow close and taking in his scent, before letting out a loud sigh.

You can’t say that you’re all that surprised.

“I’m sorry, your Mom said what to Mrs. Hansen?!” Tina exclaimed as she plopped down next to you on your dorm room bed.

“Tina-”

“I’m sorry, but this is the most chaotic meeting of parents I’ve ever heard! What the fuck?!”

“God, it went so bad so fast.”

“Okay wait, start from the beginning.”

“Alright, I told my parents a week ago that Lloyd and I started dating, and my Mom was immediately pissed, because she remembered him and his family from High School, and hated them. So, she was already unwilling to give them a chance, but my Dad talked her into it. Somehow, the fact that Lloyd and his family said that it was their treat made it worse and-”

“Why didn’t you tell him no?! You know how prideful your Mother is!”

“I did, but he insisted! He really wanted to do it, because he really wanted to make a good impression on them, and he was set on it, so I didn’t really have much of a choice. Anyway, after a lot of back and forth, everyone finally agreed to give him a fair chance. So, as per their choice, we all met up at that place Toscano-”

“Harvard Square?! I’ve always wanted to go there!”

“Yeah well, it only seemed to make things worse, because the moment my Mother saw the place she rolled her eyes and scowled.”

“Ah shit.”

“Exactly. Now, in Lloyd’s defense, he really did try to make up for his parents...rudeness,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to show my parents that I’m with someone who can take care of me. Anyway, the more Lloyd’s Mother drank, the more disrespectful she became. The more my Mom, the more fed up she got. Then, Lloyd’s Mom said something about how my Mom should’ve gone shopping with her for better shoes to go with her outfit, and it just...it went so bad so fast. Things were said, food was thrown, drinks were tossed, glasses got broken, and eventually the cops showed up.”

“Oh my God,” Tina gasped as she covered her mouth.

“That’s when my Mom called Lloyd’s Mom a low-class vapid baby making machine, who’s gonna end up used up and alone.”

“Holy shit!”

“God, it was so embarrassing. Lloyd paid for all the food, including what didn’t get brought out of the kitchen, and over tipped literally everyone who was working there, while his Father paid for all the damages and told him he’d pay for any upgrades they’d ever wanna make to the place. It’s amazing that we weren’t banned from the place, but I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to go back in there.”

“Jesus. What did Lloyd say?”

“Well, he screamed at both of his parents, I couldn’t even look at mine, and then he just apologized the entire time he drove us back to campus. He’s convinced I’m gonna break up with him, but I don’t know why the hell he’d wanna stay with me.”

“Well, why do you wanna stay with him? If his parents are this terrible, and he’s so terrible-”

“He’s not his parents, Tina. I don’t know, once he puts his ego aside, he’s really not that bad.”

“Babe-”

“Tina, look who you’re talking to. I know how terrible he is. How terrible he can be, but I love him. I know it’s probably not in my best interest, and there’s no way for me to try and explain it, but I’m in love with him and he’s in love with me. Maybe it’ll all fizzle out and maybe it’ll last forever, but for now, we’re determined to be together and make it work.”

“And your families?”

“We’ll figure it out along the way,” you shrugged.

You wipe your eyes at the memory, missing how simple all of it you used to be. Sometimes, you really miss Tina.

“I can hear those wheels turning a mile away,” Lloyd chuckles as he stands in the doorway. “You okay?”

“How’s your Dad?” you ask, closing your eyes and rubbing your temples.

“He’s fine. Shocked, but he’s fine. I think my parents are rightfully afraid of you.”

“It’s about fucking time,” you scoff as Lloyd takes a seat beside you on your side of the bed.

“How are you and our child?” he asks with a smirk.

“Hungry and grumpy,” you pout as you sit up. “I’m sorry, I just wanted us to have something nice. Everything’s been going so well, therapy finally feels like it’s getting us on path to a better future, the wedding is coming along great...I just wanted us to have a nice moment as a family, because it’s been so long since we’ve all been together for a good reason. Even when we had our first big dinner after Travis completed therapy, that was a shit show too. I just...I wanted something nice for a change. I made everyone’s favorite snacks, the lasagna that you and Travis love, I got everyone’s favorite drinks...just for them to shit on it like they always do. I’m sorry. Thanks for defending my Mom by the way.”

“It’s fine, and your Mom was right. My Mother was being a bitch, I’m done letting her disrespect your Mother like that. Besides, it’s honestly been long overdue for you to throw something at my Dad,” he smirks and you let out a small laugh. “I do have a surprise for you, though.”

“You kicked everyone out?”

“I’m afraid it’s not that great but,” he smiles, “I think it’s a pretty great second place. I’m going to train the new hires of the private sector.’ “...what?”

“I won’t be doing paperwork that drives me insane every fucking day, I’ll be home at a time that’ll make you happy daily, no more missions or trips, and I won’t be so damn irritable all the fucking time. Yeah, I’ll be teaching these shitheads torture on actual prisoners, but there will be no blow back. I come in, I train, I come home.”

“Lloyd, please don’t fuck with me,” you beg as your eyes start to water.

“Hummingbird, I told you that I’m gonna make changes, and I meant it. I want to give you and Travis the world, and I know that a huge part of that has to do with this damn job. No, I’m not leaving it all together, but I’m keeping all of us out of harms way.”

“Lloyd...”

“I love you, Y/N, and I’m not losing you again. I’m done being difficult, I’m done causing arguments over things that are obviously my fault, I’ll get better with controlling my temper around Travis-”

“And your language.”

“Hummingbird, it’s one or the other, I’m not perfect,” he tells knowingly and you roll your eyes. “The point is, I was serious about being and doing better for Travis. We’re going to be the family you’ve always wanted and I’m gonna do my best to keep being the man you’ve always been able to rely on. I love you,” he smiles at you.

You practically knock him over with the hug you give him, and he chuckles into the crook of your neck as he hugs you back.

“Relax you, you’re carrying my child,” he teases as you two break apart, and you flip him off before drying your eyes. “Do you know what it’s gonna be?”

“Uh huh,” you smile excitedly as you nod your head.

“Seriously? We’re having a girl?!”

“One of each, just like you’ve always wanted,” you laugh.

This time, he almost knocks you over.

“Please stop,” Travis groans as he makes his way into the bedroom, and both you and Lloyd as you break apart and look at him. “I’m gonna have a little sister?” he asks, small smile tugging at his lips as he gets on the bed from Lloyd’s side.

“That’s right, so get ready to defend her against all these little assholes running around,” Lloyd smirks and Travis laughs.

“Lloyd, at least when I’m around, please,” you whine.

“Are you sure you two are gonna be together forever this time? Cause they’re all downstairs agreeing that this isn’t gonna work, and Uncle Denny is drinking and watching sports highlights,” he sighs while laying his head on your shoulder.

“Of course those assholes want us to fall apart...again,” you scowl.

“Now who needs to watch her mouth,” Lloyd quips with a smug smirk, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Guys,” Travis groans.

“I’m positive we’re gonna stay together, Trav,” Lloyd smiles at him reassuringly.

“How are you so sure?”

“Because,” he shrugs as his gaze falls on you, “a Huckleberry is nothing without his Hummingbird.

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witch-and-her-witcher · 4 months

Text

Silver Lining

azris | T | undercover, canonverse, no magic, one bed | 3.4k

A very happy @acotargiftexchange to @bubybubsters! Although we aren't your original secret santas, @octobers-veryown has created this dashing moodboard to accompany the gift fic below I have written. We hope these tick a few of your likes from your list: secretly good/High Lord Eris, a hint of Feysand and Elucien, and of course - The One Bed Trope.

Many thanks to the darlings @queercontrarian and @popjunkie42-blog for the quick and efficient beta reads!! <3

ao3

~*~

“So we’ve reached our decision?”

“All in favor say ‘aye’.”

The chorus of resounding confirmations come from around the table. Each one is like another hot coal added to fuel Azriel’s ire where he stands back, leaning against one of the House of Winds’ red walls.

Elain and Lucien, acting as the representatives of Day Court, are the last vote. Elain’s eyes flicker to Azriel, apologetic, before she nods towards Lucien.

“Aye,” Lucien enunciates, threading his fingers through his mate’s above the tabletop. There was a time it would have eaten Azriel alive to see such a display, but now he only cares about the fate all those gathered today have sealed for him.

Feyre clears her throat where she and Rhys stand tall at the head of the table of the gathered High Lords, High Ladies, and their representatives. “Then it’s decided. High Lord Eris will travel to his contact in the south of the mortal realms under cover … aided by the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Both of you hold the fate of Prythian in the success of your mission, travel swiftly and with the grace of Mother on your side. We’ll prepare whatever you may need for your journey.”

Shadows writhe around him as Azriel fights to control the swell of conflicting emotions. Of all the fae to be forced to safeguard —

“Give us time to discuss details and we can present an itemized list to the Council?”

The Autumn lilt in Eris’s speech grates Az’s nerves for no reason other than the male’s tongue has no right to sound so pleasant.

“The Council grants two hours. Speed and secrecy are our only allies in this mission.”

“Understood.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

A muscle twitches in Azriel’s jaw. “What other choice was presented to me?”

Eris’s muscles bound together under the collar of his finely embroidered tunic as he shifts through paperwork, dips his quill in ink, and begins jotting down a list. He doesn’t look up as he answers, “I can find another spy’s service. You were readily available, that’s why your High Lady volunteered you. But considering …”

Azriel waits impatiently for Eris to collect or finish his thought — or to stop pausing for dramatic effect, whatever it is he’s trying to accomplish with this oddly cordial conversation.

Russet eyes flicker up to him. “Considering our history, I would understand if you wish to decline. The nature of this mission requires a complete trust in each other and if you still harbor ill will towards me because of a centuries old feud, I must insist you back out. I’m the High Lord now, my people require I return. They require this mission is a success.”

Reasonable.

So gods-damned reasonable.

Where is the arrogant prick he’d lunged across a table over a century ago to choke?

Azriel’s wings ruffle with annoyance. He’d heard Eris has changed with the relief of Beron’s death, has grown into himself as High Lord and no longer has the time to spend stirring up trouble for the sake of it.

He’s heard he’s a changed male. Living up to the words another had said to him about “being a good male under it all.”

But he hadn’t believed it.

Until now.

The shadows whisper of the sincerity the High Lord speaks with. They also whisper that no spy readily available in the Prythian network will be as good, as reliable, as seasoned, as Azriel.

Certain death, they whisper, unless it’s you, Master.

Something twists in his gut as he watches the proud male, his sharp jaw and freckle smattered cheek bones, assessing the documents in front of him once more. Writing down his list of supplies to request from the Council: cloaks of invisibility, lamas bread, a network of mounts prepared for them at predetermined way points.

It will be hard riding, hard living without the use of their own magic. Only their common sense, weapons knowledge, and a few enchanted items will be between them and death on foreign soil.

It’s for Prythian, he tells himself as Azriel moves close enough to feel the body heat pouring off of the High Lord of flames.

“I have contacts with a new enchanted shroud that has improved upon the cloak of invisibility's flaws. They’re expensive as hell … But let the Council dip into their coffers.”

Eris peers over his shoulder, cunning mouth twisting into a smirk as he watches Azriel’s flowing script as he adds to the request list.

“Let bygones be bygones?”

“A temporary amnesty, lets say.”

“Alright, Shadowsinger.”

“Some day, I would like to not be embroiled directly in life or death plots,” Eris mutters, stretching his legs as they dismount their exhausted mounts.

They’ve been riding hard for nearly twenty-four hours straight and have swapped horses thrice.

Azriel has never known such pain as the ache in his seat, in his knees, even in his shoulders from holding himself balanced on his horse while they have trotted most of those hours, sometimes breaking into full canters in stretches of path Eris deems too dangerous to linger on.

They’re now at their first rest spot since entering the southernmost duchy of the mortal realms. It’s a desolate mountain town, but Eris recollects from travels past that it's the safest.

Azriel dismounts and tries not to lose his balance, the glamor that has hidden his wings and other more fae features does nothing to assist with the odd balance he’s needing to learn quickly without their weight.

“That will be the day Eris Vanserra is found dead.”

“Touche.”

Azriel nearly smiles at the omission. He has to catch himself to remember despite the truce he doesn’t fully trust this male. It goes against what they agreed upon, but since it wasn’t an official bargain … Azriel watches the swagger Eris approaches the inn with, the soldier of his youth replacing the mighty High Lord as the glamor has rounded out his ears, dimmed the luster of his fiery locks so its merely enchanting rather than breathtaking to watch the curls of his longer pieces of hair along his neck —

Enchanting?

Azriel pinches the bridge of his nose.

Too long in the saddle. Too many days on lamas bread alone.

“I need a hot meal and bed,” Eris says to Azriel as he holds the door open, “If memory serves, this place serves a hearty stew and non-moldy bread.”

The tavern on the bottom floor of the inn is crowded with all types — mostly sellswords, likely half moonlighting as the bandits that haunt these routes, but there’s a few distinguishable merchants as well. The number of people overflowing from the bar, the tables, and even the dance floor where the band is playing a lively jig, makes Azriel’s skin crawl.

Without his shadows, he feels naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

The only blessing is the Illyrian broadsword strapped to his back and Truth-Teller on his thigh.

“Get us food while I get our rooms?” Eris asks, surveying the crowd. Although he doesn’t appear outwardly nervous, there’s an obvious calculating edge to that russet gaze.

If there are no rooms left, it will be a hell of a night sleeping in the stable with the horses for their already aching bodies.

Azriel nods wordlessly and heads for the barmaid.

She smiles prettily at him as he approaches — flashing her gaping smile, several teeth missing. Azriel keeps his features carefully controlled. It isn’t his first time interacting with humans, but for his purposes milling about average folk hasn’t been as necessary …

“What’ll it be, sir?” she begins pouring a stein of ale before he can ask. “For you and your partner, yes?”

Azriel straightens. “He’s not my —”

“ — business partner? But you rode in together. You two are nicer dressed than most of the business types that stop through. Fancy those swords are more expensive than this whole shitty inn, eh?”

“Likely not,” Azriel says with a frown. “Two hot meals, please.”

“Alright, alright, the strong, silent type. Got it. Don’t you worry, Greta will take care of you. Here’s your ale, I’ll get you a meal that will fill both of your bellies to bursting and maybe you’ll share some of those pretty coppers I know you have with Greta.”

Azriel takes the steins and tries to avoid eye contact with anyone else in the tavern. Even with the glamors, they stand out.

When Eris drops into the booth beside him — one Azriel acquired by swooping in before another raggedy band of humans could beat him to it, cowed only by his size to move on — he’s grimacing into the pale brown reflection in his drink. There’s a fly floating on the surface he’s been debating removing.

“We should have had Lucien give us less teeth in the glamor,” Eris grumbles.

Azriel looks up and notes the flush on the male’s face, the obvious aggravation in the tense draw of his shoulders.

“Tried to swindle you, too?”

“The astronomical rate the innkeep charged me and for one bloody room, Mother above.”

Azriel freezes.

There’s only one key on the table between them.

Eris exhales into his drink before taking a strong pull of the weak alcohol. Azriel watches the bobbing of his throat as Eris swallows, the press of his lips as he removes the cup and the quick dart of his tongue to swipe any foam from his upper lip. It’s nearly distracting enough to pull his thoughts from the critical detail Eris seems to be brushing over.

“How many rooms?”

The High Lord looks at Azriel’s still full stein. “Why haven’t you — Cauldron, that’s disgusting. Go get a new one, why are you brooding over it instead?”

“Because Greta will shout to the tavern again that we are sizable targets to steal from and when I have to kick all of their asses, it’ll risk blowing our cover,” Azriel says through his teeth. “Eris. How. Many. Rooms.”

Eris clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth and shrugs, averting his gaze. “One. It’s all they had left.”

“How many beds?”

“Stop asking stupid questions.”

And just like that, the truce broken.

“It’s not stupid,” Azriel growls, and every overwrought nerve ending is screaming at him to reach across the table and strangle this good-for-nothing, spoiled High Lord with his nose in the air and complete disregard for —

“Grow up, Azriel. Haven’t you shared a bed before? You have brothers.”

“Not in centuries. I like my privacy.”

Eris shrugs. “You’re welcome to your privacy out with the horses then.”

“Prick.”

Their meals are set on the table in front of them. Eris smiles up at Greta and her lack of teeth and attempts to push her assets together in an enticing manner.

“My companion here needs a fresh ale, could you be a darling and get him one minus the fly?”

“Oh my! Oh no! Let me fix that right up!”

“No, it’s fine —”

Azriel and Eris lock stares across the table, all three of them grasping at the stein.

Greta fumbles, “Sir …Surely you don’t want to drink a fly?”

Eris’s russet eyes burn with repressed flames. “You’re not so uncivilized, right, Azriel?”

Damn him, of course Azriel doesn’t want a drink with a fly, but Eris has no right to make decisions for him. Anger burns through him, indignation at having his own problem solved for him, like Eris has any right with his handsome face and swaggering charm to just —

Greta laughs awkwardly. “I’ll just bring you a fresh one, let you two sort this out.”

At least he won’t have to worry about the barmaid flirting with either of them again. The stein falls to the table in a clatter and ale and the fly leaps over the sides … Right onto Eris’s slice of buttered bread.

The fly’s wings twitch as the ale soaks into the bread.

Eris bares his teeth at Azriel. “Do you feel satisfied now, you Illyrian —”

“ — here we go, I knew you were full of —”

“ — I’ve been nothing but decent, you’re the child that can’t —”

“Here’s that fresh ale! Oh … I’ll get you another slice of bread, sir … but it’ll cost you.”

Eris grimaces through a smile at the barmaid. “That will be amenable, Greta. Thank you.”

They brood over their dinners, silenced by the woman’s uncomfortable gaze. At least the food is as hearty as Eris claimed it would be, even if they’re searching for more surprise seasonings of bugs.

Lively music and the din of the crowd fills the space between them.

Exhaustion tugs at Azriel.

All he wants is to stretch out on a semi-decent mattress and rest his eyes and body for a few hours. But the best he’ll get is a sliver of that. If not for the logistical nightmare of the sheer size of both of them trying to fit in one bed without touching, the unpleasant —alright, occasionally pleasant— surge of feelings that close proximity to Eris causes in Azriel…

Sleep will be difficult, even as exhaustion settles into the very marrow of his bones.

It’s just like sleeping with his brothers, he tells himself. Not that his cheeks flush with heat or his skin feels too tight just at the thought of sleeping beside Cass or Rhys.

Gods, he’s screwed.

And now he’s been a complete idiot about the ale.

Azriel scoops the last of the meal into his mouth and dabs at his mouth politely. When Greta had promised their bellies would be bursting, she likely didn’t realize she was feeding an Illyrian sized appetite.

There’s still food on Eris’s plate.

He’s barely eaten the meat, sticking to the greens and potatoes. Azriel furrows his brow. Is Autumn Court largely vegetarian? Or is the High Lord just too snobby?

“What?” Eris asks, setting his fork down and sitting back.

Azriel looks between his plate and the male. “Are you … going to eat that?”

“I can’t stop thinking about that fly.”

“Haven’t you had worse out in the field?”

Eris looks around the tavern as he admits, “I haven’t been in the field in a while. My palette has become more refined.”

“Spoiled, you mean.”

“Fine. Spoiled.” Eris shoves the plate towards Azriel. “Have at it.”

Setting aside the flare of anger between them, Azriel accepts the plate with a polite dip of his chin. He needs to get control of himself before they’re in one bed, trying to navigate the small space.

Admittedly, the more food he inhales, the less slighted he feels over Eris trading out the ale anyway.

Eris’s eyelids are drooping by the time Azriel scrapes off the last bite of meat and gravy.

“I’ve ridden hard before, but it must be the lack of magic,” Eris says through a yawn. “I feel drained. Almost like —”

“ — faebane?”

“Exactly.”

At least there’s none of the stomach churning nausea to go along with this form of magicless exhaustion.

They pay Greta and Azriel slides a few extra coppers into her hand out of guilt for his display of emotion she had to bear witness to.

“Well. It’s a bed.”

Azriel sighs despondently.

A small bed compared to the one he has at home, that he’s used to winnowing to whenever he does rest. So, maybe Eris isn’t the only one spoiled by the passage of time and changes in positions and the luxuries those positions afford.

“At least I don’t have my wings,” Azriel says with a sigh. It would have been impossible with them.

Eris unbuckles his sword belt and sets it on the narrow table. He begins unfastening the buttons on his jacket, his boots next, until he’s standing in only an undershirt and his trousers. Freckles dot the pale skin exposed from his loose collar that bares his clavicles, the strong muscles of his neck and shoulders that are lined by the thin fabric the rest of the way down.

Strong. It’s not easy to forget this High Lord has earned his place.

“Don’t bring road dust into the bed,” Eris says absently, otherwise not commenting on Azriel’s hesitation to undress when they’re both standing so close in the small square footage of the room.

He climbs into the bed and shoves himself against the wall. There’s just enough space remaining for Azriel.

Suddenly self conscious, he blows the candle out before shucking his sword and jacket. At home, he sleeps in the buff, but of course on a mission, with Eris in his bed —

Why is he even thinking about that implausible scenario?

Azriel toes off his boots and slips under the covers.

Their shoulders touch if they both lay on their backs. The quick touch sparks a quick movement in both of them to readjust, surprising Azriel. Eris is just as jumpy, and this close he can pick up the High Lord’s elevated heart rate.

So, this isn’t straightforward for either of them.

Eris clears his throat once they’ve finished shifting and the bed no longer creaks beneath their substantial bulk.

“I don’t believe I properly thanked you yet for agreeing to accompany me on this mission. I know you understand how important it is to keep Prythian safe, but without you …”

“You’d be going into a suicide mission?”

The click of Eris swallowing is like a bell ringing. In the dark, neither of them can see the other’s face, read the vulnerability that opening up to a lifelong enemy entails, but there’s other tells.

“Why did you offer to do it then? If you knew I’d be justified to say no?”

“The truth is maudlin… and a little bit pathetic. But we’re getting close to seven hundred and I’ve heard that’s when the sentimentality starts to creep in for anyone other than my prick of a father.”

“Sentimentality or senility?” Azriel quips out of instinct, then corrects quickly, “Sorry. Go ahead.”

Eris chuckles low and warm.

It sends a shiver down Azriel’s spine, and the soft huff of air as the other male must have angled towards Azriel draws across the exposed skin of his arm in his short sleeve shirt. The fine hairs there prickle in response, drawing to attention in the same way every nerve ending seems to with the shift in their discussion.

“Everything Lucien has overcome, his spirit to impact change. It inspired me. And my mother is so proud of the male he’s grown into.”

Azriel thinks of his own mother. The worry creases along her lines when she asks after his well being, if he’s been taking care of himself … Does he make his mother proud? She says he does, but is that simply because he hasn’t remained as the little boy locked away? Has he actually accomplished anything to make her truly proud?

“It’s pathetic, I know.”

“It’s not,” Azriel says quickly. Too quickly. Heat rises from his chest, up his neck, and creeps across his cheeks.

Eris sighs. “It’s naive to assume I can accomplish anything through a grand gesture, but I know how everyone questions if I’ve really changed. They don’t understand what it took to survive Beron’s iron rule … But I would like to be an honorable male who can act in the light, like Lucien.”

Silence blankets them until Azriel wonders if Eris has drifted into sleep.

He knows his entire being is screaming for rest and he’s fighting the urge tooth and nail because … because those words mean something. Eris is sharing something significant and Azriel had agreed to join him because of the need to protect his own loved ones, but now.

Now he’s glad he’s here with Eris.

Eris shifts on the mattress and their arms brush. Azriel doesn’t jerk away this time. Eris has paused, but when Azriel doesn’t move, he relaxes his body into the position.

“Since I’m tied to your grand gesture, I guess maybe it will drag both of us into the light,” Azriel says, the words quiet like a secret.

“We can both look like fools together.”

“As long as we’re successful fools.”

Eris laughs through his nose and Az doesn’t stop the small smile from parting his lips as his eyelids slide shut.

“Lets focus on getting out of this alive and we’ll see about the rest.”

Azriel doesn’t respond. His stomach is alight with too many feelings, anticipation and excitement. Thankfully it's all drenched in his heavy meal and half of Eris’s and so his mind can’t race for too long.

Maybe he’s been fighting this undeniable draw between them for too long, holding on to an old feud solely to keep this distance wedged between them.

As Eris’s breath even out beside him, Azriel shifts ever so slightly to increase the span of their bodies that touch in the bed.

Maybe it’s time to remove the distance.

#azris #azriel x eris #azriel #eris vanserra #acotar winter gift exchange 2023 #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

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the-authoress-writes · 6 months

Text

Wherever You Go

Prologue

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Aviator!reader (Callsign: Thorn)

Moodboard by @bradshawsbaby

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: Tom Kazansky made a mistake.

Or rather, a series of mistakes.

He chose to take the assignment as an instructor at TOPGUN.

He fell in love with one of his students.

He broke her heart.

He chose to leave TOPGUN, and redeploy.

Now, he was stuck onboard the USS Nimitz with the woman whose heart he broke, with no way out.

Unbelievably, that’s not the problem.

Problem is, he still loves her.

Series Warnings: Teacher/Student relationship (but you already knew that) with no real age gap, warnings will be updated as the series progresses.

Warnings: Here be some cursing, because they are men in the Navy—they will curse.

Other than that, nothing really.

Author’s Note: “It’s only going to be a oneshot.”

Every author knows that those are the famous last words, and that is no truer than with this story.

I really, really thought I could make this into a oneshot but then I gave up on that.

Because I am so in love with this storyline, that it deserves space to breathe.

So this one shot is now going to be at most (hopefully), a six-part series.

*sigh*

Darn it, Val, what have you done to me?

Thank you so, so very much to @roosterforme for hosting the Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s rock ballads, “The Flame” by Cheap Trick.

Lyrics from the song will be peppered in throughout this series, because it’s too good not to, and the song is the reason this story exists, as it is what birthed the plotline.

Another thank you goes to the incredible @bradshawsbaby for making the stunning moodboard for this fic, which was beyond my wildest dreams!

Special thanks also to @valmare, the fact that I am writing Tom Kazansky x reader! fic is all your fault; but thank you so much for dragging me down with you, it’s been an absolute joy!

Not much plot happens in this prologue, but I think it’s important to set up the narrative.

Ice cold, no mistakes.

That’s what everyone said about him, and he knew it.

He’d be lying to himself if he said that some part of him didn’t enjoy it, that reputation for perfection.

But now, as Tom watched her doing preflight for her CAP in the shadows of his little nook in the superstructure of the Nimitz, he knew that he was staring at the biggest mistake of his life.

He watched her hands lovingly run across the airframe of her F-14, and he inhaled sharply in remembrance.

He’d only been able to feel her touch him like that once, but it was more than enough to burn it into his memory forever.

As he watched, the large form of her RIO, LTJG Emmett “Romeo” Kinford, came up behind her, slapping her on the shoulder, which elicited a bright smile from her.

It tugged at his heart, to see her smile, even though it wasn’t the same smile she used to smile at him.

What he wouldn’t give to have her smile at him again.

She was the first woman he’d ever really loved, and he knew she’d be the last.

But he’d broken her heart two months ago.

It tore him apart to have to do that, but he had no choice—not if he wanted her to keep her wings, much less her title as Top Gun of TOPGUN Class 1, 1987.

And he knew she belonged in the sky, so he made the bitter choice, and he suffered for it—they both did.

He was still suffering.

It was why he’d chosen to redeploy, even though he loved teaching at TOPGUN, could easily have seen himself doing it for at least another few years, because he couldn’t stand to stay at Miramar, where he had so many memories of her, about her, with her.

He hadn’t missed the half-pitying, half-understanding look Viper had given him as he turned in his transfer papers—the now-Captain had always been intuitive.

“You’re a damn good instructor, Kazansky, we’ll be sad to see you go.”

“I’m sad to go, sir, but I… feel that I need to do this.”

A nod.

“Alright, son.

I’ll turn these in.

You and Kerner should get your new orders in two weeks.”

Within a week, he and Slider were deployed on the Nimitz.

One week after that, VF-1 chopped in, Mav and Merlin included.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mav?” Tom grinned, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks as he hugged his wingman while Slider did the same for their former Academy classmate.

“I quit teaching.”

“What?!” Tom and Slider exclaimed, while Merlin sighed longsufferingly, shaking his head.

“You loved teaching!” Tom continued.

The dark-haired aviator shrugged. “It was boring without you there—no one else gave me a run for my money.”

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re admitting that I’m the better pilot, Mav.”

“In your dreams,” Mav scoffed. “But again, I will admit it was boring without you there.”

Tom smirked. “Love you too, Mav.”

“Fuck you, Kazansky,” his wingman retorted with a grin.

“No thanks, not in the mood,” Tom deadpanned.

Mav guffawed, making Tom’s deadpan melt into another grin, before the other pilot threw one arm around his shoulder, the other around Merlin’s upper back (as that was as high as it would go without effort, given the RIO’s borderline absurd height of 6’ 5”). “The Layton Boys are back!”

Slider interjected, “Technically, we’re missing Wood and Wolf.”

Mav rolled his eyes, “Okay, most of the Layton Boys are back—better, Ronald?”

Tom sighed, preparing for the bitchfest he knew was coming—he’d learned at Annapolis how much Slider hated his full first name.

(That wasn’t even mentioning the absolute hissyfit that would occur if the middle name was whipped out: Evelyn.)

(It was his great-grandfather’s name.)

“Yeah, Peter,” Slider retorted.

Okay—nothing was going to stop this now, to paraphrase the song—Mav was just as bad; Goose was the only one who could call him “Peter” and get away with it.

An all-too familiar pissy look came over Mav’s face. “Dickhead.”

“Yardstick.”

“Asswipe.”

“Petey Pocket.”

That was new—he and Merlin held their breath to see what would happen next.

Mav stared.

Slider stared right back.

A black-haired blur rushed forward, and Slider took off running, the flight deck now thankfully free of planes, the next CAP not starting preflight for another hour.

“Should we stop them?” Tom asked Merlin, as they watched the other pilot and RIO run across the Nimitz, a faint “Come back here, asshole!” carrying on the sea wind.

“If it’s all the same to you, I say let them go; you don’t know how wound up Mav’s been.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough—Sli could use the exercise.”

Eventually, Slider finally slipped up, and half-tripped on a padeye, allowing the smaller man to tackle him, the chase devolving into a wrestling match, which further devolved into what could only be described as a third grade slap-fight, before it finally ended with both men on their backs, heaving breaths into their lungs.

Tom and Merlin looked at each other, and in unspoken agreement, headed over to their RIO and pilot.

“Missed you too, Shortstack,” he heard Slider mutter, once he and Merlin came close enough.

“Didn’t say anything.”

“I know.”

“You done, you little gremlin?” Merlin asked, a wry expression on his face.

Mav glanced warningly at Slider, who silently raised his hands in surrender. “Yeah, we’re done.”

“Alrighty,” Merlin sighed, offering his pilot a hand up, Tom doing the same for his RIO.

Once both of them were hauled off of the flight deck, the aviators/infants stared at each other once more, and Tom was just about to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, when Slider extended his hand. “Truce?”

Mav considered the extended hand for a beat, before slapping his hand into the other man’s. “Truce.”

Slider grinned, and used their clasped hands to pull the diminutive pilot into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Mav.”

A sigh. “You too, Sli.”

They finally made their way below deck, Mav and Merlin dashing off to report to the Air Boss, before they met again in the Officer’s Mess, the quartet eating dinner leisurely, as none of them had a CAP until tomorrow.

To their surprise, Tom and Slider found out that Mav and Merlin would be sharing their berthing, and Tom couldn’t help but wonder at the Hand of God making such happy coincidences occur (or perhaps the hand of a certain TOPGUN instructor).

The four of them easily settled into the layout they had set up on the Enterprise; who would take which bunk or locker, which segued into the boisterous exchange of stories between them.

In the midst of the familiar camaraderie, Tom could almost forget the ever-present gaping hole in his heart, ignore the pain which always threatened to swallow him whole when he was alone.

But bedtime soon came upon them, which drew the exchange of stories to a close, and had them all lying in their respective bunks, and soon, Merlin’s deep breaths could be heard, indicating the man was asleep.

Mav was, as usual, dead silent, which always made him unsure if his wingman was actually asleep.

And he’d tried to see if there were any auditory tells in the other pilot’s sleep, but there were none.

Maybe eventually, he would figure something out to give away a sleeping Mav, but hopefully, he was asleep.

Slider, however, was pitifully attempting to convey sleep, his deep breaths a little too measured, Tom knowing all too well how the man breathed when he was actually asleep.

Ron, loyal brother that he was, wanted to make sure Tom was asleep before allowing himself to drift off.

So he allowed his breathing to slow, gradually adding the slight rasp in his breath that he knew Slider was listening for.

The last week of being back in a berthing with Slider had been a testament to his acting skills, not having had to hide how he was sleeping (or not, rather) from the other man since the Academy.

Eventually, his RIO succumbed to the siren call of sleep, and Tom settled in for another cold night, in more ways than one.

He blinked up at the ceiling, seconds passing like sand through an hourglass, and though he could feel fatigue pressing in on him, he couldn’t fall asleep, despite all the techniques the Navy had taught him, his restlessness punctuated by the sound of the launch and recovery of two night CAPs.

But eventually, between one blink and the next, Tom woke up to the alarm clock going off.

Realistically, he knew he slept, but it really didn’t feel like it, he felt just as tired and weary as he always did.

He dragged himself out of his bunk, swiftly silencing the clock, as the Slider-shaped mass of blankets began to stir.

“Ugh—I hate mornings,” his RIO moaned.

“Shouldn’t have joined the Navy then, Sli,” Merlin cheerily fired back, feet thudding onto the berthing’s floor from the top bunk.

“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking, Kerner?” Mav grinned, already in the act of making his bunk.

“Why, oh why, God, did I have to be cursed with morning people,” Slider declared, finally throwing off his blanket.

“You love us, Ron,” Tom smirked, unable to help himself, the affectionate snark coming easy to him amidst his brothers, despite his exhaustion.

“Ehh—ask me again after I’ve had a coffee.

Or a dozen.”

The berthing rang with laughter, and as the day progressed, it confirmed to Tom that he’d made the right choice to redeploy, the brotherhood they had, the self-proclaimed “Layton Boys”, being exactly what he needed to nurse his broken heart.

Their CAP was uneventful, being flown with Mav and Merlin, the guard frequency filled with their light-hearted teasing and conversation, and they had to be the cheeriest four men on deployment in the Navy’s history.

But inevitably, another night slowly closed in, leaving Tom alone with his thoughts, his loneliness and pain threatening to overwhelm him as usual, and all the façades in the world couldn’t do a damn thing against thoughts and feelings from your own mind and soul.

The call was, as they said, coming from inside the house.

He felt like he was going crazy; he was losing sleep, he knew he was in too far, in way too deep over her, and he wasn’t sure when he would ever stop feeling like the world had fallen out from under him.

As he fought the urge to toss and sigh for the umpteenth time, he heard a soft “Can’t sleep?” from across the berthing.

Tom fought the urge to sit bolt upright, which was a good thing, as it kept him from banging his head on the top of his bunk.

When he caught his breath and calmed his heart some, he whispered, “Mav?”

“That’s me.”

“What are you doing up?” Tom hissed.

“Pot, kettle.”

“I—sometimes people can’t sleep, Mav.”

“Bullshit.

You couldn’t sleep last night either.”

“How do you know that?”

Mav kept silent.

“I knew you had to be awake,” Tom scoffed.

“Yeah, well.”

Here, Merlin stirred, turning in the bunk above Mav, which caused Slider to also stir and the two pilots held their breath, waiting for their respective RIOs to still.

When they did, Mav crept out of his bunk, grabbing something out from under his mattress, before leaning over Tom. “Come on—if we’re going to be awake, might as well be awake together.”

Tom sighed, nodding.

Maybe if he got up, he’d have some hope of feeling sleepy, and he’d be able to get some sleep.

Mav led him to the unoccupied half of the berthing, on the other side of the lockers, and plopped himself down on the floor between the empty bunks.

Tom took that as invitation to sit next to his wingman, and he leaned his head against the mattress behind him.

A soft noise which he belatedly recognized as the sound of a zip bag opening had him looking down.

Despite the darkness, his eyes had long since adjusted enough to see Mav holding out what appeared to be a cookie of some sort—chocolate chip, if his nose didn’t deceive him.

“Carole made these fresh before I shipped out.

Have some.”

“Thanks, Mav.”

“No problem,” the other pilot murmured, mouth already full.

Tom bit into the cookie, just the right amount of chewy and sweet, with the perfect amount of chocolate chips.

He must’ve made some sort of sound, because Mav chuckled. “Good, huh?”

“Don’t interrupt me, I’m enjoying my cookie.”

“I keep telling Care she can sell these suckers—heaven in a cookie, am I right?”

“Mmm.”

For the next few minutes, neither said anything, and no noise was heard save the sound of plastic rustling, cookies being eaten, and the distant sounds indicating deep sleep from their RIOs.

But then.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?

That’s why you can’t sleep.”

Missile lock—tone.

Sigh.

“How’d you know?”

“Doesn’t take a genius, Ice, even if I am one.”

Tom scoffed, lightly bumping Mav’s shoulder, even though he knew his wingman wasn’t being hyperbolic—the younger pilot had a Master’s in Aerospace Engineering.

Mav good-naturedly took the bump, bumping right back.

When they had settled again, Tom whispered, “Can you blame me?”

“No, I don’t.

But you had no choice, Ice, Jester made that clear.

You were between the proverbial rock and hard place.”

“I loved her, Mav—I still love her.

And she loved me too.

And I broke her heart.

I can’t just… forget that,” he frustratedly said, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not asking you to,” came the even reply. “All I’m asking is that you admit it.

It’s not good for you to keep this all in, you know?

Isn’t that what you told me before?”

“Yeah, it is,” Tom sighed—he felt like he’d been doing a lot of that lately.

“Have you told Sli?”

“Kind of,” he muttered.

Mav hissed, “What does ‘Kind of’ mean?”

“He… he knows that I was in a relationship that ended badly while I was at Miramar, but he doesn’t know that—” despite the fact that the two of them were the only ones awake in the berthing, he whispered, “that she was my student.”

Tom didn’t know it was possible to hear a shocked expression. “Way to bury the lede, Ice.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.

I just—I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“So you stonewalled your RIO?”Disbelief dripped from the sentence.

“I…” Tom vaguely gestured, “gently led him around the full truth.”

“You fucking Obi-Wan Kenobi-ed him.”

He sent the other man a glare even if he wasn’t sure Mav could see it. “You’re the worst therapist ever, you know that?”

“I’m a naval aviator and an engineer, Ice, forgive the slight fumbling.”

“‘Slight’?” Tom scoffed humorously, and in the darkness, he could see an ebony-haired head shake.

There was a joke that a more uncharitable person could have made about engineering in regards to him, but he and Mav were long past that, and he was grateful, something he never would have said before.

“You should tell him, you should have someone other than me who understands, who knows what you went through, Ice.”

Tom could see the point.

And it would feel better, he had to admit, even if it would trigger Slider’s mother hen instincts to the max, even more than they were right now.

“I’ll think about it.

And don’t think I forgot that you were just as sleepless as I was.”

“This about you, not me.”

“Uh-huh, sure—for now, you little shit.

Now hand over another cookie, will you, Mav?”

“The things I do for you.”

The plastic rustled again, and a cookie was placed in his hand.

And as he ate Carole’s heavenly consolation in a cookie, Tom reflected on just how he’d ended up in this position.

To be continued…

Next Part

CAP: Combat Air Patrol

Women were not allowed to participate in combat units and fly combat missions until 1993, so a healthy suspension of disbelief is required to read this story, 😂…

The USS Nimitz (CVN-68) is the lead ship of her namesake class; commissioned in May 1975, she is the oldest US Navy aircraft carrier in service, and the oldest serving aircraft carrier in the world.

If you look at the nametags they’re all wearing in TG86, the second row says “TOPGUN 1”, so I’m assuming that there’s more than one TOPGUN session a year, at least in the TG/TG:M universe.

VF-1, a now inactive squadron based out of NAS Miramar, is the squadron that Mav and Goose belonged to before they went to TOPGUN, although it must be noted that, like most of the squadron patch designs in Top Gun, the patch design as seen on Mav and Goose’s flight suits, is incorrect and not matching the squadron designation.

I am assuming, though I have no confirmation, that Merlin was also part of Tom and Slider’s USNA class.

The “Petey Pocket” insult is a reference to the toy Polly Pocket, which is a toy from the late 80s, notable for its tiny size, which is being sold again by Mattel.

However, the toys did not come out until 1989, and they did not come out until much later than that in the States, and despite my best efforts to find a more period-accurate insult/comparison, the insult was too good not to put, so again, healthy suspension of disbelief.

“Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” by Starship, from the 1987 film Mannequin, is the song Tom references.

A padeye is used to secure aircraft to the flight deck.

Taglist

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#top gun rocktober #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

Text

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Following your encounter with the Shelby family, you try to get accepted but you have no idea how. This is why Ada comes out with a good idea: organizing a tea party in the garden. You accept, hoping things will get better between you and Arthur's family... But it does not go as planned.

featuring John x Platonic!OCReader

Words: 4.3k

TW: Foul language but hey, that's about Peaky Blinders, witchcraft ??

Notes:

✞ This chapter is longer than what I attended to do, so unfortunately I could not follow the poll's result. Hence, here is a quieter chapter but nonetheless tinted with a bit of angst. Moreover, the three next chapters are going to be quite violent and intense so consider this the calm before the storm.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

Afficher davantage

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || Masterlist || NEXT

“I don’t like the kids being around her.”

“Come on Esme, she’s not going to eat ‘em eh.” Arthur brought the cup of tea to his mouth and drank it, its sweet flavor melting on his tongue. It was a necessary and momentary relief, which kept him from yelling at his sister-in-law for what she had just said about his sweetheart. She had not stopped making snarky remarks from the day he introduced you to the family. Somehow, it was not about hatred or personal resentment, but rather about fear: she was sincerely scared of you.

After meeting the Shelbys for the first time, you were left utterly confused and did not know what to do. That was when Ada’s idea popped up. She had helped you organize a small tea party in the garden of the house Arthur had brought for you, in order to have a cozy family gathering. Then, John grew fond of the idea. These two surely had adored you as soon as their eyes had fallen on your angelic face. Following the invitations you had sent, Esme and Polly agreed to come to the event even if they did not trust you. More superstitious than the rest of the family, they were genuinely anxious when you were nearby — but family was family, and they did it for Arthur. Concerning Michael and Finn, they were too busy playing tough boys in Small Heath to bother sipping on a cup of tea in a flower garden. And regarding Thomas… Of course, he would not come. His refusal had been quite obvious following your disastrous encounter with little King Shelby, even though he pretended to be far too busy with work to come. His manners were on point, at least when he was not insulting you and grabbing you by the throat. Admittedly, you had been disappointed in the boys’ lack of commitment but you did not let it show. People still came, you thought.

“What if she brings evil spirits upon them?” She insisted, her dark eyes staring at you as if you would kill her children if she dared to shift her eyes from you for one second. Annoyed with her disrespectful claim, Arthur rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Listen, girl,” He put back his cup on the table a bit more bluntly than he intended to, “if you keep saying dumb shits in my bloody house I’ll kick ya out. Heaven invited ya and y’all talk shit in her back tsk… Damn ungrateful women.”

Esme opened her mouth to say something but she closed it straight away for Polly had rested her hand on her arm to keep her from doing so. The last thing they needed was a quarrel. She finally sighed, admitting her defeat. Then, she went on observing you playing with her four children alongside her husband, John.

“At least she’s not filling your mind with stupid Christian things. “ Polly said, stirring her tea with a little silver spoon. She was observing the liquid with great attention, looking for any sign of poison or suspicious ingredient. Somehow, she feared you had served her some kind of magical potion. Witnessing this circus of a conversation, Ada closed her book and frowned.

“This is ridiculous. You should stop judging her because of stupid rumors. She’s no witch…

Heaven is a delightful woman, clever and polite. Far away from that bitch Linda.” She paused to look at each of the faces around the table, “And if she is, well… She might as well fly on a broom and turn people into frogs I would not mind. I’ve never seen Arthur that happy before, and that’s all that matters.” She argued, her voice filled with determination and her tone highlighted with her natural fury. The Shelby sister sure was a wild and entitled woman.

“Thanks, Ada,” Arthur looked at her with sincere gratitude. He was starting to get tired of the two women’s nonsense and constant judgmental behavior toward his lover. His steel blue eyes abandoned his guests and fell on your graceful body — not interested in anyone but you. Bewitched by the sight, Arthur’s traits relaxed as he observed you running behind Katie in an attempt to catch her, with your dolly face enlightened with a smile so beaming even the sun was green with envy. His heartbeat quickened in his ribcage as seconds passed — the more he stared at you, the more the world around him vanished: you had the gift of making him forget everything. Your wild ivory mane floated at the wind’s discretion, along with the overhanging fabric of the Greek-inspired white dress you were wearing. How he loved to see you covered with the beautiful dresses, fur coats, and jewels he kept buying for you — nothing was too precious nor expensive for his angel.

“You can’t catch me, Heaven!”

“You think so, Katie? I’m coming for you!”

Esme and John’s children had adored you from the minute you met. They seemed to have adopted you into the family, judging by their blooming smiles and their joyful laughter each time you would catch them in your arms. A sudden comforting wave of warmth overcame Arthur’s heart. Seeing you playing with kids definitely did something to him. He tried not to let it show, for you were younger than him and he did not want to put any pressure on your shoulders, but he had always wanted a family. For years he had seen his siblings being blessed with the joy of love and children, to the point he had wondered if his time would come or if he was deemed to live off prostitutes, drugs, and bland momentarily reliefs. Yet the more he watched you with children, the less he could keep domestic thoughts from flooding his brain. How deeply he wanted to put a ring around your finger to make you officially his, and fill your belly with a child. His child. But the truth was he still doubted you truly wanted him, his insecurities whispering to his ear that you’ll wake up one day and see the monster he was. He already could barely believe you wanted to see him every day. Let alone the surprise of you agreeing to live with him, by his side.

“Shit Arthur, it’s getting serious.” Ada teased, smiling behind her cup of tea at his brother’s blissed out expression, “She did cast a spell on you.”

“Oh fook off, Ada. Don’t say that, Polly and Esme are going to believe it.” And he was right, for the two women were now watching Ada with pure terror on their faces, which only made her burst into laughter.

John grabbed you by the wrist, gently forcing you to stop running. You turned around and pout, visibly unhappy of your poor performance.

“Gotcha, little Angel,” He said, one brow raised and his beautiful lips stretching in a wide, cunning smile from which a toothpick was hanging, “Following the rules, you’re excluded from the game.“

“That’s unfair. You cannot hide in a bush and bounce on me, John. This is cheating.” You retorted, pretending to be outraged, but the smirk etched on the corner of your charming lips left no doubt about your amusement.

“I’m a Shelby. Of course I cheat.”

“That’s such a lame excuse,” You said, your sentence punctuated by a thunder of complaints that rose when the kids noticed you had stopped chasing them. All the four Shelby children wished was to keep playing with you, but John wanted to take advantage of this moment to enjoy your company without the protective presence of Arthur towering over him, “And I think the whole team disagrees with your decision.” You added, shrugging, with a false innocent expression on your face, which gave you a bratty look more than anything else. Gosh, John thought, you were a hell of a woman…

“Oi herd, why don’t you play together for a while so that Dad and Heaven can talk eh?”

Another wave of protest, but the focus of the little crowd was soon diverted by a small white bird that had just landed on the handmade birdhouse near them. The children decided they did not want to play Tag Your It anymore, but rather chose to observe the bird from the closest spot as possible. So was kids’ ability to focus, as flickering and ephemeral as a moth. John freed your wrist as they moved away and winked at you. Then, he pulled a silvery cigarette case out of his pants pocket. He gave you one and proceeded to light it up politely. You leaned over his hands until the tip of your cigarette brushed the flame — John’s sky-blue eyes looked at you during the whole moment, his iris shining with a playful gleam. To be honest, he was probably the nicest Shelby of the family, Arthur not included. At least, he was always absolutely caring for you and would never forget to pull you in a bear hug each time you met. Hugs so tight, so comfy that you could almost feel the shattered piece of your heart brought back together. John Shelby had spent countless hours helping you move to your new house, refusing to let you carry heavy furniture and stuff. More than being helpful, he fancied the moments you both spent together. That was why he would sometimes keep you company and teach you some tricks with his personal deck of cards when Arthur was busy working for their boss-brother. In exchange, you would mend his torn shirts after a fight and offer him shelter whenever he and Esme had a heated argument.

“How’s going with Arthur?” He asked, his tongue playing with his toothpick. You let out a cloud of smoke from your juicy lips.

“This is going so well, I can’t believe it. Your brother is so soft, so caring… He’s an Angel.”

“Soft? Caring? Are we really talking about Arthur?” He chuckled, “I mean he used to throw Michael out of the window when he was just a kid.”

“Well, you were there to catch him though. Pretty sure no one did when Arthur would throw you out of that same window. You must have hit your head against the concrete more than once.” You raised a brow, your teeth digging into your cigarette as your smirk widened. Blown away by your quick wit, John shook his head.

“What the hell, I don’t know why Arthur calls you angel. You’re a fucking devil,” He said to tease you. Yet the soft traits of his baby face turned into a more serious expression, “So yer really happy with him? I’m asking because he loves you so much that he would not stand losing you. Hell, he talks about you every fucking minute!”

“Does he?” You said with a softer note in your voice before glancing at Arthur. Your aquamarine eyes met his, for he had not stopped staring at you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “I’m truly blessed, John. Arthur is — he is unique you know? I can’t find words powerful enough in any language to describe my feelings for him. But trust me, I am a lucky woman. “

Domestic life with Arthur Shelby had a surprising taste of blissful paradise. Obviously, it had its ups and downs, for the path to healing was always a long and somehow troubled one, but you knew what you were stepping into the first time you met — his face was splattered with blood after all. You had been aware of the scorching fits of rage and his past troubles with addictions right from the start. He also told you about the nightmares that would wake him up at night, screaming and panting, and that time he cheated on Linda and cried doing so. Yet, he had promised you to do his best to tame his demons — and when he said “best” he did not lie. Whether covered in blood or not, he often came home right after work, wanting to spend his time with you rather than doing anything else. When he did not it was simply because he was drinking with his brothers. And even wasted, at the edge of the abyss he was so familiar with, he never touched another woman — No matter John’s behaviors and Tommy’s pressure. How could he when the fairest creature of this bloody world was waiting for him at home? Moreover, sex with you outperformed everything he had experienced before. Arthur knew that having you by his side was a miracle, and he was determined not to sabotage it. Because you were everything he needed to survive, and what he had craved all his bastard’s life. Sometimes he would wake up at night, afraid you had been just a dream, and when he would realize you really existed he would pull you in his arms and watch you sleep peacefully, his fingers caressing your porcelain skin until he dozed off. Yes, Arthur Shelby was the most loving and loyal man you ever had.

Maybe that was what made the moments he snapped even more terrifying. But you weren’t scared, for Arthur never laid a finger on you and would never do it. In fact, he was never mad at you, but rather at himself. Or at the rest of the world. But not you — how could he?

He was simply terrified of hurting you. Sometimes he touched you so lightly, afraid to break you… And when his spirits heated and he squeezed you a bit too fiercely, all you had to do was gently remind him to relax and his embrace would loosen.

“But tell me John. Are you really interested in Arthur’s well-being or is it because you’d miss me if I leave?” You joked, taking another puff of your cigarette and shifting your gaze to him. You expected a roast in return but all he gave you was a strange silence. Your smile slowly faded away at his pensive face, the oceans in his eyes lost in thought.

“Yeah,” He said, a bit embarrassed. John swallowed, then, after a brief moment of hesitation, he gently pressed one of his big soft hands on your shoulder in a tender sign of affection, “I’d miss you. I really like you Heaven. You’re good for Arthur. You know when he goes back home after work it’s because he really wants to. Because he misses you so deeply he physically aches. Plus, I really love spending time with you,” He rubbed his nose with the back of his free hand in a nervous reflex, his handsome eyes fleeing yours, “And I’m deeply sorry for my wife’s behavior.”

“Ah,” You waved the topic off, “That’s okay,”

“ Oi! That makes more room for me eh!” He blurted out, an irritating yet adorable playful grin plastered on his face.

“Oh Gosh, what an idiot you are!” You slapped him behind the head, which made him laugh even more, “you have such a punchable face!”

“That’s what my brothers always say, little angel. Find a better roast next time.”

“What do we always say, dumbass?” A hoarse voice asked. Two strong and large hands grabbed you by the waist. Arthur had left the women, who had a heated discussion about politics, for he grew already frustrated not to be with you. His familiar perfume made all your muscles relax as if your instinct linked his presence with undeniable safety — which was the case. To be true, Arthur was not only loving, he was clingy. Adorably clingy. From the day you met — to probably the day death do you part— he constantly felt a deep-rooted need to touch you. On the one hand, he wanted your attention, on the other, he could not get enough of your affection. You let out a soft and amused snort, and you raised one arm to slip your hand in his hair. You almost hear him purr at your touch, his lips against your ear.

“His face is punchable, don’t you think so?”

“Fook yes, it is! It really is.”

“Two against me?! Now who’s the one cheat—“ John could not finish his sentence for he was cut off by the children’s screams. The three of you rushed to the small pack as one to check what had just happened.

When you reached their level, you saw all the children encircling something, their heads down and their eyes looking at one specific spot somewhere in the grass.

“The hell’s wrong with ya kiddos? Ain’t no reason to scream like that!” Arthur complained, his gravel voice tainted with fading worries now that he realized all the kids were safe and sound.

“The bird! It’s the bird, uncle Arthur!” Cried a little boy.

“Dad, dad! What’s wrong with the bird?” Katie asked.

When you came closer, you realized that the children were circling the same bird that had landed on the birdhouse fifteen minutes ago. The poor creature was laying in a bed of green grass, as petrified as a statue. Its small beady eyes were glassy, utterly lifeless. It did not take more than one second for you to understand that it was probably dead.

“That bird’s bloody dead.” Arthur stated. Maybe tactfulness was not his best quality.

“What?! Is it?!” The children spoke as one. A terrified expression veiled their round faces at their uncle’s harsh words.

“Good job Arthur.” John replied, visibly annoyed by the situation.

A soft breeze made the bird’s pale feathers dance in front of your eyes. How come this creature, which was joyfully whistling not so long ago, had stopped living all of sudden? The futility of life would never cease to amaze you… The fact remains that you had to do something, whether it was for John’s children or for the animal itself. Without the slightest word, you kneeled in the grass. Its comforting caress on your skin sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you how you loved taking naps in the forest when you were a kid, back in France. You forced your mind to focus on your task and finally cupped the bird’s body in your cold hands.

“Don’t touch it, love.” Arthur told you. The gravel in his voice was coated with softness and care: he did not want you to catch a disease or something.

“It’s alright.” You answered, absentminded, before standing up on your feet. Your brows slightly furrowed as you observed the dead creature in your hands. There was something about dead birds — something in the way their small black eyes were always wide open as if they had frozen at the sight of Death’s face right before it struck them with its lethal kiss.

Arthur, as well as the rest of the Shelby family, looked at you in confusion. They did not comprehend what you wanted to do with the corpse. You took a quick glance at John’s children and offered them a soft smile, then you looked back at the bird, “You know,” you started, your voice sweet and enchanting, “my mom used to tell me that some birds only have one love during their life,” Your words stirred up curiosity among the young ones, whose faces turned from fear to vivid interest, “they can die from a broken heart. Just like some humans.”

“This is sad. I don’t want the bird to have a broken heart.” One little boy with feckless said.

“It’s true. That’s a sad fact. But … If you give it a bit of love and a lot of hope…” Pausing your sentence, you closed your eyes for one short moment and exhaled loudly. Doing so, you raised your arms with closed hands facing the clear blue sky, “Maybe you can repair what has been broken.” And as you concluded, your sweet words and soft voice hypnotizing your audience, you opened your hands: against all odds and natural laws, the white bird twitched and, all of sudden, flew away in panic as the witching hour struck. White feathers lazily spin to the ground, carried away by the wind and the melody of flapping wings. A peaceful grin grazed your full lips at such a magnificent sound, “See?” You finally said, reopening your Bambi lashes and turning towards the mesmerized kids that were now cheering. However, that dazzling smile of yours quickly faded away at the sight of Esme, Polly, and Ada’s bewildered faces — they had witnessed everything.

“What the bloody hell was that?” John’s voice was merely a whisper. You had resurrected a damn bird. In front of them. No trick, no ruse. You had brought a fucking bird back to fucking life.

You looked at Arthur with a tint of anxiety in your eyes, not understanding if you did something wrong, but all he did was stare at the bird’s silhouette up in the sky with his cold blue eyes.

“Fookin’ hell…”

He could not believe it either.

When Esme had grabbed her children, panic on her face, and left the house slamming the car’s door, you had felt utterly disappointed in yourself. Here we go, you thought, they are all going to hate me. And Arthur’s going to leave. You thought, still standing in the alley with your eyes fixed upon the horizon where she had disappeared. The horror with which she had looked at you was haunting you — were you that monstrous? You blinked and remembered you were not alone. John, Ada, Polly, and Arthur were still there, probably ready to flee too. Your heart ached at the thought, to the point you did not dare move for fear of facing them.

“Angel.” Arthur’s voice called with such a soft and delicate tone no one would have recognized it. You finally turned around slowly, jaw clenched and eyes looking at your feet.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Arthur.” That was all you could say, apologies falling from your quivering lips each time you would part then to speak.

“Hey. Stop that.” He said, a bit more strictly, yet he gently cupped your face with his two rough hands at the same time. The sensation of his warm skin against yours managed to bring back peace in your tormented soul.

“Don’t mind her — Yer fucking perfect. Yes, you are, and I don’t want ya to think you’re not.”

“I should not have done that. Maybe that wasn’t what you thought, maybe the bird was just playing dead and…”

“I love ya and I’m not gonna leave if that’s what yer scared of. That’s okay, love.” He said, pressing his forehead against yours in that so specific habit of his, “Just don't cry please, I hate to see you cry.” Lavishing you with sweetness, Arthur left little reassuring pecks on your lips for it was the only thing he could do to keep the tears away from your eyes.

How much he hated to see you in pain. It made him want to bend the skies and raise hell. Made him want to destroy everything that had hurt you.

Fortunately for him, your hard heart did not let you shred a single tear. You felt wounded and frustrated, simple as that.

“Don’t worry, Mon amour.” You finally say, taking a deep breath. You were about to give him a little smile, eyes lost in Arthur’s blue iris when Polly literally pushed him away from you with quite a surprising strength. She had snatched your man from your arms with such fierceness that you stood still, eyes wide open, unable to move.

“HELL, POL’! BLOODY FOOKIN’ FAMILY!” Now he was yelling — roaring like a wounded and enraged lion.

“Shut up Arthur!” She snapped back without looking at him, before grabbing your shoulders with her two frail hands. You were once again astounded by her strength now that she was holding you firmly.

At such a sight, Arthur’s protective instincts kicked in. He was about to place himself in front of you to face Polly Gray, within an inch of tackling his own Aunt, when John and Ada grasped each one of his arms to hold him back.

“You have brought it to life, haven’t you?” She questioned, her brows slightly furrowed and her brown eyes trying to probe the meanders of your soul. It was more than enough for you, who came to the edge of your patience. You exhaled slowly and swallowed.

“Why do you want to know? Gonna hang me high? Gonna burn me?!”

“DON’T TOUCH HER!” Arthur roared in the background.

“You did it!” She blurted out.

You did not reply, rather leaving her to draw her own conclusions.

“You did it.” She repeated with a surprisingly softer voice.

And everything changed.

Her face. The spark in her eyes. Her whole attitude. Polly’s hands loosened their grip but remain on your shoulders. The coldness of her face melted in a brief proud smile, whose rarity rendered it even more inestimable. Polly’s mouth opened to say something but it took a little while, for she was still trying to find the right words. And when she did, she said something to you in Romani. Something you could not understand, even though the tone of this unknown language sounded beautifully in your ears. The meaning behind her words remained a mystery — all you knew was that what she said had surprised Arthur and John, who were both now looking at their Aunt with lips slightly opened. Confused, your gaze shifted to Ada — and contrary to her brothers, a magnificent smile was adorning her face.

Polly gave your shoulders a last gentle squeeze before releasing you from her embrace and pointing Arthur out.

“You better keep this one.” She simply stated, then she headed back to the garden.

You blinked, still utterly confused by Polly’s behavior, “what did she say?” You turned to the three Shelby siblings but especially asked Arthur. However, he struggled to produce a proper answer. He opened his mouth but Ada cut him off right before he could speak.

“Miracle.” She stated.

“She said you’re a miracle.”

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alones but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interested: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid @shelbyssins (tagging u honey because it’s bby Arthur)

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tommyinniter · 1 year

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TommyInnit Moodboard for Sunny 🐏☀

c!Tommy moodboard with themes of a complicated, abusive brotherly relationship for anon. I had fun with this one, I'm generally an enjoyer of darker themes, thank you for the ask!

Art Credit: 🌿

#tommy kin #dsmp kin #We're really just chilling fellas. [request completed]#Why do I look so damn good? [moodboards]#tommyinnit kin #dream smp kin #tw abuse #tw blood #Sunny 🐏☀

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elvisabutler · 11 months

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hiii! absolutely loooove your writing!!

was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about either Elvis or Austin and he helps reader when she’s on her period and super hormonal. like maybe she’s cranky and horny??

if not, totally fine!! my periods been vicious this month and would love to see how you think one of them would react to it!! thanksss!

crimson

summary: you are having a bit of a rough go around this time with your period and your boyfriend- well he just wants to help. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x plus sized female reader word count: 1432 warning: oral ( f receiving ). implied potential p in v sex ( future ). period sex. blood. descriptions of period cramps. author’s note: so hi anon. i have no idea how you feel about me making this a plus sized reader and having this be a period sex smut but at the very least i hope you enjoy. but also thank you for the compliment about my writing! i went for austin because well- because @butlersxbirdy helped me choose and because truly i have been lacking in my austin content lately. if the mood strikes i might write something come- well probably when my period comes next with them like in the damn bubble bath or curled up in bed. also you don't have to read it this way but in my head for some reason- i kind of saw this as being in the same universe as pop goes the bump. don't ask me why but ya know. also moodboard is not indicative of the color of the reader's skin. i just have wanted to use the beanie and austin pics since i saw them.

Your best friends today have been your bed, a heating pad, copious amounts of chocolate and a sweatshirt that Austin wore despite being far too big on him and making him look like a very tall Ariana Grande. All in all, you've had worse periods with less assistance than you do now. You've had worse periods alone with nothing to comfort you. Sure, you're technically alone right this second, but according to Austin there was something about the way you answered the phone, all vicious snapping and vitriol spewed from your lips that clued him in to the possibility that maybe- just maybe you might be on your period. Maybe you could use some company in your time of need and pain.

The thing is you and Austin pride yourself on being honest with each other, telling each other when something bothers you or when something doesn't work clothes wise or actions wise. It's how you can tolerate the gossip of him with costars and the gossip of people thinking there's no way he'd be with you. You know there's every way he would be with you because he tells you why he's with you. It's easy to realize and understand. The downside to this is that sometimes he forgets that there's a time for tact and little white lies. Case in point the exact words that leave his mouth when he opens the bedroom door to find you in a blanket burrito and with Bridgerton playing on your television.

"You look like shit." He murmurs, leaning against the door as his eyes trail over your body.

You wait a moment before you respond, wondering if he honestly just said that before you finally glare at him. You like to think if it could the look would murder him. "Great boyfriend you are, asshole. I feel like shit so if it feels like shit, smells like shit and looks like shit, it might just be shit."

Austin for his part winces at your words, realizing that what he said was uncalled for and probably did more harm than good even though he had meant it to be playful. It takes him a second to stop leaning against the door and slowly walk over to your shared bed, carefully as if he thought you were a caged animal ready to strike and kill him. "Or it might just be a woman experiencing a very rough week," he states calmly, as the bed dips with his weight next to you. "Taken your pain meds?"

"More than my liver would have liked me to." You answer, the words coming out as a bit of a whine as another cramp seizes and twists at your insides. "It hasn't helped that much. They're normally-"

Your eyes shut from the pain as it cuts off your words and Austin finds himself pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back in some form of comfort. "They're not normally this bad, I know baby."

"I woke up at 4AM like this. I'm tired, I hurt, I want to eat my weight in every food known to man and I'm-" You stop yourself and feel your blood rush to your ears and head in embarrassment as you shift a little next to him, trying to find some relief. He doesn't need to hear the last part, that's too much to ask of him or anyone.

Austin watches you, watches how you are on a roll explaining what's wrong until you get to the last bit of what's bothering you. He notices how you stop and start to shift against the bed a little in a way he only knows you to when you're- well- when you're feeling horny. Ever the actor though, he manages to school his face into something that doesn't give away that he might have a clue as to what's going on. His hand moves from your back to your hips, rubbing in a motion that's meant to be comforting but that he also know has a tendency to drive you wild. "You're what? Does it have something to do with how you're moving against the bed?"

A breath catches in your throat as you feel the warmth of the embarrassment you feel flood your body. Of course Austin would catch on, he knows you. He knows how you are and knows every single one of your tells. "Austin- Don't, it's nothing, if you're not going to be helpful or comforting just-"

Your words are stopped by a shaky exhale as you feel Austin's lips on your neck, trailing down to your chest. "I want to be helpful and comforting. I want you to feel better, babe," he whispers against your skin before pulling away slightly as his hand moves to cup your breast, noting how you hiss in equal parts pleasure and pain. "Too much?"

"Just the nipple. Not the whole thing." You answer, grinding against the bed a little. "They hurt too much to be touched."

A hum leaves Austin's lips as he keeps up his work, his thumb flicking at your nipple, sending shocks down to your core. Between your legs is throbbing not only because of the pain your period has wrought but because of how that simple touch has your clit aching for attention. Attention you're praying that Austin will provide it as he moves to be on the floor by the bed and tries to pull you to the very edge. It's a position he's been in once before, it's a position you've seen him in multiple times since you first started dating and yet in this moment you want to keep your legs shut, trying to keep your desires to yourself before you hear a chuckle. "Babe. Let me, please. Consider it my last ditch attempt to make you feel better."

It's as if those words are the magic ones to hear as you open up your legs, shivering at Austin's touch on your thighs. At his subtle squeezing of the plump fat of them and at how he takes your underwear and your shorts off with an ease that makes you love him that much more. Your hands drift to his hair, messing with it, allowing your fingers to grasp at his locks and yank just slightly earning a groan from him. Your thighs tighten around his head reflexively as he inches closer and closer to your cunt and yet he still manages to make his way there. His tongue laps at your clit, earning a sharp cry from you at the new sensation. You swear you feel his lips curl into a smirk as he continues a soft and slow onslaught, licking gently while stoking the fire of arousal within you. It makes your stomach clench in a way that is a little painful but feels like it's relaxing at the same time. It's a clench that promises relief at the end instead of an unending deluge of pain. Your chest heaves as Austin takes a hand and moves to play with your nipples once again and you feel something- you feel what you think is an orgasm start to build within you as you try to use your grip to pull him away. Only to have him shake his head and take your clit between his lips and just suck at it.

That action, that simple action that normally you detest has your thighs tightening so much around his head that you're liable to hurt him as you come, your fingers yanking at his hair and a low moan leaving your body as the coil of tension inside you and the sheer clench and twist of your insides relaxes at least for now. You try to catch your breath and relax your legs as Austin pulls away from between your legs and continues to play with your nipple almost absentmindedly.

His mouth is red, almost like messed up lipstick and you can't help but feel your cunt clench a little in want for more. The two of you stare at each other before he smiles and raises his eyebrows. "Better?"

Your eyes take in how his pupils are flushed and how his cock is pressing against his pants and you can't help but lick your lips and grind against your bedsheets once more. "I think I might need one more- dose, Austin. Just to be safe."

A smirk crosses his lips as he moves back to his former position, ready to give you what you ask for. "Just one more. Then we'll see if you need something stronger."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine copy and pasted from the last austin fic, sup y'all, feel free to tell me if you don't want to be tagged, etc etc.

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x plus size reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #ally writes #austin butler fluff #is that last tag true? meh.

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loserdiaz · 7 months

Text

tagged by the lovely @wikiangela (it's not tuesday for me yet but tomorrow ill be gone all day so im posting now bc why not ksjsjd)

here are some previous snippets: one, two and three and if you interact with this post here, you'll get tagged whenever i publish the fic <333

anyway, more from the witness protection au! 💌

"So, what's your favorite color?"

Eddie turns around, looking at Buck bemusedly. "What?"

"We're married, I guess? I should know some stuff about you."

"And you thought you'd ask about my favorite color?" Eddie turns back to the pancakes— Buck thinks maybe they smell a little burned but he doesn't dare to point that out.

"You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite color." "Like what?" Eddie asks without turning back to face him.

"I don't know." Buck rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated breath through his nose. "Like, if you say black it's technically a color and that is your favorite, you're probably a psychopath. Or depressed."

Eddie snorts.

"Okay, maybe you can't know a lot about a person by their favorite color." Buck huffs out a weak laugh and leaves the apple to rest on the center of the table. "Still, humor me."

"Mhmm, I don't know." Buck sees the muscle of Eddie's back move under his shirt as he gives a half-hearted shrug. "I guess, blue? I haven't really thought about what my favorite color is."

"Oh, okay. Good to know my husband is boring."

"Your husband just made you breakfast. So, you're welcome."

Buck looks at the pancakes warily— The edges are really, really burned, so bad that they're black and the rest of the pancakes are a dark shade of golden, bordering on brown.

Buck raises an eyebrow at Eddie as his gaze darts back and forth from the man to the food and vice versa.

"Buck, they're fine."

"Are you sure about that, Eddie?"

"Just eat the damn pancakes, man."

and for the people who tagged me on inspiration saturday, here's a moodboard <33

tagging (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @buddierights @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @eddiebabygirldiaz @jeeyuns @transbuck @forthewolves @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @eddiediaztho @exhuastedpigeon @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @spotsandsocks @spaceprincessem @911-on-abc @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @thosetwofirefighters @messyhairdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @athenagranted @diazblunt @911onabc @housewifebuck @bekkachaos and anyone else who wants to do it!

#witness protection au #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #my wips #my writing #911 fic #911 wip #911 abc #911 on abc

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readyforthegarden · 10 months

Text

Red Satin

Y'all didn't think I was going to leave my sweet prince out when he also had red gloves, did you? Special shoutout to @joshsindigostreak for making yet another stunning amazing moodboard for me!!! (if you see any typos or errors no you don't btw)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, fem!dom, sub!sam, oral, fingering (f!receiving), penetrative sex, use of toys

WC: 2677

Sam knew as soon as you shut the door, your heels clacking loudly against the hardwood it was going to be a long night. Your usual enthusiastic greeting to Rose as she tip-tapped over to the door to welcome you home was stagnant. Through dinner you had told him all about your day, how people at work were idiots and tried to throw you under the bus for their own mistakes, making you look bad in front of your boss.

“Why don't we do something to get this out?” Sam asked, sipping from his glass of wine. His eyes were trained on you hard as you glanced up from your plate.

“Like what?”

“Well, you need to let out this aggression, and it’s been a while since I’ve let you take charge.” you took a second to understand what he meant, but once it clicked, you smirked.

“Where are my gloves?”

You had a matching lingerie set, a translucent red baby doll that barely grazed your hips, and a matching thong. You walked into the room, your heels slowly clicking before you stepped onto the rug where Sam was kneeling in just his boxer briefs. He was looking down at the ground, just as he was supposed to. His dark hair curtained his face, and you bent down, letting your satin cloaked fingers dance along his jaw line, under his chin and raising his face to yours. His large, brown, downturned eyes glimmered as they met yours.

“Such a good, obedient boy.” you murmured, watching him fight a smile. “You wanna help me relax? Make me feel better?” Sam nodded, his hair shaking wildly. “Tell me something baby, what do you think will make me feel better?”

“Control.” Sam whispered. Nodding, you moved your hand from his chin, stroking back his hair gently before knotting your fingers into it, tugging his head back harshly and leaning down, licking a stripe up his neck with your tongue flat.

“Damn right, doll.” you hissed in his ear. Standing back up and letting go of his hair, you stood back, admiring him. He watched you carefully, his mouth hanging open slightly as he drew breath in through it, waiting for your next move. You took in his form, his hair a mess from where you grabbed it, and once you decided it was enough, you lifted a hand, crooking your finger to beckon him over. Sam, ever the one to make a show, lowered himself forward to his palms. He looked up at your through his lashes as he slowly crawled forward. You questioned for a second who was in charge tonight, his body slinking towards you in the low candlelight, making you crave his skin on yours so badly.

Once he reached your feet, he straightened up, letting his eyes slowly travel up your body, taking in the outfit until he reached your eyes. You smirked down at him, taking your hands and running them over your body, underneath the flimsy chiffon and over your torso.

“Do I look beautiful?” you asked, turning and giving him a full view. When you faced him again, his eyes were full of adoration. “You can speak again.”

“You’re gorgeous, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Sam breathed. “I want to touch you, so, so badly.”

“Do you think that’s something you have the right to do, Sam?” he started to nod as you reached out, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger, moving it from side to side, halting his up and down movement. “I don’t think so.”

“Please?” Sam sighed. “Let me touch you, let me worship you. Let me show you how deeply I love you, please!” Sam begged in front of you, your hand still on his chin. His downturned eyes were watery and wide as they stared up at you, pleading to you even as his words ceased.

“I have been feeling neglected lately,” you sighed, slightly on the dramatic side as you pulled away from him, pouting. “Dinner by myself every night for three weeks, waking up to you stumbling in after recording with your brothers. Working a normal, every day job where I’m up to my eyeballs in stress and no way to relieve it properly.”

“I’m sorry baby, really.” Sam bit his bottom lip. “I know I should’ve been home more, let me make it up to you.”

“If I do, do you understand you are nothing but my toy?” you bent down in front of him, making yourself eye level. “I don’t give a single fuck if you get pleasure from this, or if you cum. In fact, I might not let you cum at all.” Sam swallowed thickly, nodding in agreement. Standing upright again, you looked him over, watching him as his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his boxer briefs against his legs. You took a few steps back, admiring his unusual amount of patience before clearing your throat. “Come show me how much you love me.”

Within seconds, your back was against the bedroom wall, Sam sliding forward on his knees and backing you against it. He laid hot, open mouth kisses over your clothed pelvis, his head dipping under the chiffon babydoll. His fingertips gripped the thin lace of your panties, and he tugged them down, his teeth aiding in the front part of the fabric. As he helped you step out of them, he lifted one leg over his shoulder, smirking up at you before delving into your core.

“Ohh Sam,” you moaned out softly as his tongue lapped at your clit. His eyes closed as he savored you, his lips smacking against you as you sucked open mouth kisses around it. He pushed his face into you further, his tongue reaching as far as it could. Sam shimmied his shoulders, repositioning your leg so he could get a better angle, his head tilting back. You gripped onto the back of his head as his tongue swirled around your clit. He gazed up on you, lapping against your core, a hungry growl coming from his throat like you were the last drink of water in the desert.

Regardless of your positions in the bedroom, whether dominant or submissive, Sam made sure you were completely satisfied, no matter what. There were nights he would tease you until your were cross-eyed, nearly delusional with want and need as he worked you over with his mouth and fingers. You rolled your hips against his face, the memories aiding in your build up.

“Fuck, they should really let you sing more with how talented your fucking mouth is.” you sighed, fisting his hair. Sam hummed against you, the vibration sending a jolt through you. Looking down at him, he looked so serene, eyes closed brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he continued to eat you out, soft pops from the suction of his mouth and slurping noises echoing in the room, tangling with your moans in the air. “I’m gonna cum on your face, make a mess of you, pretty boy.” Sam nodded against you, moving his hand faster as his tongue swirled around and over your clit in the perfect rhythm. Letting your heel dig into his shoulder blade, you tugged him closer, feeling yourself fall over the edge, crying out loudly as Sam hummed, continuing to work your through your orgasm. You could feel your slick coating his face with how effortlessly your ground against it.

When you pushed him away, he looked up at you with wide, anticipating eyes, beard glistening with your wetness in the dim light. He’d grown harder during his work, and you could tell he was dying to palm himself, give some relief to his strained member. You slowly sank down to his level, giving him a smile.

“Such a good boy.” you murmured, stroking his face. You let your hand travel down the expanse of his neck, over his shoulder and down this arm, circling his wrist. You lifted his hand up in between the both of you, and gave him a sweet smile as you kissed the tip of his middle finger, the one that had been inside you only moments ago. Sam watched, his chest heaving softly and lips parted as you parted your own, taking his whole finger in your mouth and sucked your own juices off of it. His moan flowed out of his parted lips, strangled, and he desperately shifted his hips, knowing better than to touch himself as you swirled your tongue around his digit.

“Please,” he whispered. You batted your eyelashes at him, pulling of his finger with a pop.

“Please what?”

“Anything, let me feel anything.” Sam whimpered. You tossed his hand to his side and stood up.

“Tonight is not about you.” you scolded. “Tonight is for me and my pleasure.”

“I know, it’s just….I need you so bad it hurts, baby.”

“Boo fucking hoo, Sammy.” you walked away from him, moving to your nightstand and rummaging through it until you found what you were looking for. Turning around, you smirked at him, holding the object in your hands. “Just for that, you’re gonna watch me fuck myself with this.” you sat on the bed, dildo in hand, propping up the pillows. “It has this fun little guy right here that vibrates, makes me scream when I use it while you’re away.”

Sam gulped as he watched you position yourself on the pillows, spreading your legs wide, rubbing the head of the dildo up and down your soaked slit. As you lubricated it, you moaned, watching him twitch his fingers.

“It’s the closest thing I can get to you,” you sighed. “The length, the girth…fills me up almost as good as you do.”

“Please,” Sam whispered. You glared at him, turning on the vibrating function and giggling.

“It must be so sad, having nothing like me.” you moaned as you pleasured yourself. “Nothing but your hand at night in your bunk or hotel room. Does it feel sad?”

“Yes,” Sam answered, pursing his lips. You just grinned.

“Does it feel lonely?” you faked a pout.

“Incredibly.” Sam whined. “Fuck baby you look so hot.”

“I bet I do,” you let you a breathy moan, tilting your head back as you pumped the toy in and out of your soaked pussy, pressing the vibrator into your clit, bucking your hips at the sensation. “Mm, I’m gonna cum again, watch me, Sam. Don’t you fucking blink!” your words turned into a cry as you unraveled again, panting as you circled your hips against the toy, holding it still as the vibrator hit just the right spot. You ran your free gloved hand over your body, tweaking your nipples through the sheer babydoll. Sam lowered himself to his hands, watching you climax so intently, his deep brown eyes studying every shake of your body.

“I can do better.” you opened your eyes as you came down, looking over this him. “I can make you come harder than that hunk of plastic.”

“Oh I know you can,” you breathed, tossing the toy on the side of the bed. “But do you deserve to?”

“Yes, I’ve been so patient, it hurts, let me please you, love.” Sam was nearly crying, his voice whimpering. His nails dragged across the floor, and you were sure he did it so hard he left marks. “Let me make you see fucking stars, baby.”

“Take me, then,” within seconds, Sam had primally crawled onto the bed, shifting himself out of his boxer briefs down enough for his cock to spring out. He growled as he captured your lips in a kiss, winding his arms under your legs and pulling you down so you were flat on your back. Sam ground his hips against yours, moaning deeply as his shaft slid against your slit. Your hips were already quaking as his head hit your overstimulated clit.

He pulled back, taking hold of his slicked cock and tapping it against your pussy. His mouth was hanging open and he pressed himself into you, making you moan. Sam put his hands on your calves, pushing your knees into your chest as he began pounding into you at a rough pace. Your head tilted back into the pillows, moans leaving your body in staccato bursts, matching his thrusts. Your hands clawed at his back through the satin covering your fingers, and it only spurred him on more.

“Ah, Oh!” you cried out. “Fuck Sammy, oh god.” his hand came up around your throat, a signal that your dominance was now his. He squeezed the sides and you gasped.

“Tell me I fuck you better than that toy.” he hissed. “Tell me I fuck you better than you fuck yourself.”

“You do!” you panted. “You fuck me better than anyone or anything!”

“I fucking love you.” Sam leaned down, kissing your open mouth, tongue swiping yours. He pulled away, hand still on your throat. “You’re gonna cum on my cock now, you understand? Just like you did on that piece of shit.”

“Yes, yes Sam.” you cried out, closely approaching your third orgasm.

“God I can feel you squeezing me, fuck,” Sam panted. “I’m not lasting long baby, I need you to cum.” he let go of your neck, raising up slightly and looking down, spitting on your pussy and began rubbing your clit with the large calloused pad of his thumb. The pressure he applied was sinful, making you scream out as your third and final orgasm crashed down upon you. Sam followed suit, grabbing your legs and pumping into your, his thrusts hard enough to leave hip bone sized bruises on the backs of your thighs that you would cherish for the next week every time you sat down.

“Ah shit,” Sam breathed through grit teeth. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside, baby, give it to me,” without another word, Sam slammed his hips against yours, stilling as he filled you with his warmth. He let go of your legs, and you let them flop open, welcoming Sam’s limp body as he crashed upon you.

Once air returned to both of your lungs, he got up, running to the bathroom and bringing back a washcloth, helping you clean up. Once that was taken care of, he lifted you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom and setting you on the edge of the tub, turning the water back on and letting the tub fill as he poured lavender epsom salt into it. Rosie tip-tapped outside of the bathroom door, looking at you every few moments.

“I think we scared her,” you frowned, glancing over to Sam. He looked over his shoulder at her, and cooed.

“Well, you did scream pretty loud.” Sam smirked, giving himself praise.

“Oof, do you think the neighbors called the cops again?”

“I kinda hope they did.” Sam laughed. “Would love to see the look on another officers face when I tell them what I’ve done to you.”

“Sam!” you swatted his arm and he laughed, turning off the water and stripping you of your babydoll, heels, and he made sure to slowly pull the gloves off your arms. You slid into the tub, making room for him to slid in behind you, and you sighed contentedly as you leaned back into his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist in the warm, soothing water.

“Next time, you have to let me finish being in charge, okay?” you turned to look at him as he smirked down at you.

“I couldn’t help it.” Sam chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But yes, the next time you bring out the gloves, you are one hundred percent in charge, to the very end.”

“Thank you.” you turned your head back, leaning against his shoulder and closing your eyes. “I kinda am looking forward to work tomorrow.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well if they piss me off again, I get to hear you whimper more.”

“I’ll whimper for you any time you want, baby.”

Taglist:

@joshsindigostreak @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf2 @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @highdefkiszka @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @teddiie @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @gretavanbestie @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @gretavanslut @streamsofstardust @joshkiszkas @jakewhorecore @fictional-duchess @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @sunfl0wer-power @jankandjonch @gvfpal @allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @malany-gvf @sammysprincess @belovedsamuel @sammykiszkamyass @sunfl0wer-power

#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka #sam gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut

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pinkiebieberpie · 2 years

Text

summer of your dreams ୨୧*॰¨̮

(dad's best friend!bucky barnes x f!reader)

a few days ago after nycc i made a moodboard with this and yeah... now it's a fic, enjoy!! <33 @buckycuddlebuddy made me write it, love you elif!! ♡ also i'm not much of a writer, so feedback and reblogs are really appreciated!! please be nice to me sksjslak

words: 1.7k

warnings: age gap (reader is over 18), office romance, horny thoughts, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby), kissing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mention of eating pussy, mention of choking, bucky is also a ceo, so yeah he is hot, older AND rich - let me know if i've missed something

there is a few things you can do during summer break and one of them is finding a job. vision of wasting your time and just staying at home for all summer wasn't really appealing to y/n. but she also knew it can take her whole month to find a job or she may not find it at all. that's when her dad suggested she should ask his friend if they are not looking for someone in his company.

y/n knew that friend, one and only bucky barnes. he and her dad were friends since forever, bucky was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, he was a few years younger than y/n's father but still way older than her. trust me when i say that he was attractive. y/n was 100% sure he looked better and better every year. she probably shouldn't be thinking about him like that but it just happened. he was a very good looking man and she was just a young girl having a little crush, there is nothing wrong with that, right?

she was a little bit stressed out when she arrived at bucky's company to ask him a big favor, luckily he said he would do anything for her dad and for her. this is where everything started.

×××

y/n was working for bucky for two weeks and she absolutely loved it. his secretary was at maternity leave so y/n had a perfect opportunity to take her spot.

"you need anything else, mr. barnes?" she asked politely when she gave him his morning coffee, bucky just chuckled.

"i told you so many times not to call me that, i know you since you were four, y/n and no, i don't need anything else, thank you" bucky answered and smiled at her. y/n could look at his smiling face for hours. okay, let's be honest: not only smiling face, just his face. this man was doing something for her, something for her body and her mind. maybe was it because he was older? maybe because he was wearing a suit everyday? and he looked so damn good in them. the only thing that was on her mind was bucky. everyday there were more and more thoughts, dirty thoughts about him and y/n started getting more clumsy.

bucky noticed that and asked her to come to his office so they can talk about what's going on.

"is it something at home? or somebody here told you something mean? i don't know, problems with boyfriend?" he was truly worried and he just wanted to find a reason of y/n's strange behavior.

"no, it's no- it's really nothing, at home everthing is just fine, this job is amazing and boyfriend problems aren't- yeah, i'm not seeing anyone, so..." y/n started mumbling, she was also too scared to look him in the eyes.

"oh, really? i'm not gonna lie, that part about being single is hard to believe, sweetheart"

y/n's heart stopped for a second when she heard what he just said to her.

"look at me, y/n" bucky ordered and that's what she did, she never felt this small and vulnerable with him "what is going on here? you are... disctracted lately" bucky asked her again and she had no idea what to tell him. saying that she developed a feeling, a strong feeling, a crush maybe. on him. she wasn't able to focus on her tasks with him in the same room, y/n was thinking about her boss, her dad's best friend all the time. and she knew her dad won't be happy about it. he would be furious and very disappointed in her - that's why neither bucky nor her dad can find out.

"it's nothing, i swear" she finally said and just nodded, but bucky still was worried and asked her to come closer to him. he stood up and copped her face in his hands when she was close enough. y/n's breath was stuck in her lungs and she was sure she is going to have a heart attack. he was too close and it doesn't matter that this is the same man she was hugging thousands of times at family parties before, now it was different.

"you are shaking, honey, maybe you are sick? i can drive you home" she wasn't sick, but now she knew that he was. holding her like this? his face so fuckin close to her face? y/n had no idea what was she thinking (she probably wasn't thinking at all) but she said to herself "fuck it, what's the worst that can happen?" and she just kissed him.

he kissed her back. after a few seconds.

bucky's lips were soft and they tasted like mint and something a little bit citrusy. she loved it. but what's more important he loved it too. his hands soon found a new place on y/n's hips and bucky pulled her closer, she moaned at this action. bucky felt like this moan awakened something in him. something maybe primal even.

"that's why you were shaking, baby" he licked his lips and looked her in the eyes "this is what you want? that's why you wanted this job? so you can be closer to me?" he asked her with a cocky smile on his face. y/n had no idea what to tell him, because that was not the reason she wanted this job, this was something... unexpected.

"what else do you want, y/n? kiss me more? touch me? maybe you want me to touch you? right here, in my office? huh?" bucky was confident, she never saw him like this, but oh god this was so hot and if she wanted him before, now she needed him. when she was too focused on his words and still hasn't said anything, he just grabbed her and sat on his desk.

"this is wrong and... and so unethical" y/n's voice was weak and quiet.

"but it feels so right, and so good" he smiled at her "and it can be even better" she believed him, y/n was doubtless that bucky can make everything even better. he was almost twice her age, that thought was just desirable for her, so she kissed him again and now this kiss was way more lustful than the first one.

she felt his hands everywhere, her whole body was on fire and her mind went foggy long time ago. she did't care about doors not being locked or about important phone calls that he should be taking right now. in that moment his lips on her lips and on her neck were the only thing that mattered. y/n tried to be quiet, even though bucky loved the idea of her moaning and screaming his name.

"i need you" he moaned himself with his lips close to her earlobe. y/n shivered. his voice was deep, yet needy.

she needed him too, so she pulled him even closer to herself by his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. once again his hands were everywhere. y/n moved eagerly on bucky's desk. she wanted his hands in only one place, maybe two. the idea of him choking her was also appealing. her little moan said it for her and bucky touched her right where she needed to be touched.

"give me more, please" she whined and bit her lower lip. bucky also liked that sound.

"you have to tell me what do you want me to do and be specific about it" bucky was still kissing her neck "what do you need, honey? your dad's best friend's lips? or maybe my dick? just tell me, i can give you everything you want and more"

"oh fuck..." y/n whimpered "fuck me, please, here, i want you here, deep inside me, so deep, on that desk" bucky didn't waste any time, he pulled up her dress and started taking off his pants.

"i had no idea you are so dirty, baby, and fuck, you are so wet for me already" he just loved what he saw, her legs wide open for him and only for him. y/n had no time to think because two seconds later he was inside her and the loudest moan escaped her mouth.

bucky barnes knew what he was doing. he knew he would fuck his best friend's daughter so good she would have flashbacks about it the next day. or week. she was a moaning mess underneath him, unable to form one coherent thought. he also knew that she was very loud and vocal in bed, trying to be quiet was like a punishment for her. that's what made bucky move his hips faster and faster until she came hard on his cock.

"oh baby, you are so pretty like this" he was still moving inside her and chasing his own pleasure. he was loud too, y/n could have come again just by this sound.

bucky looked even better after sex, hair messy, his breath uneven, lips swollen and in a very deep shade of pink.

y/n took her hair from her face and just smiled, bucky noticed that.

"what?" he simply asked "was it good?"

"better than good, but next time i need your face between my legs, this beard of yours is going to make me crazy" y/n winked at him. i guess you can tell that orgasm gave her a boost of confidence. and that day was a beginning of very spicy romance, which wouldn't be approved by y/n's father, but he doesn't have to know everything, right? like that one time when bucky ate her out on his balcony for breakfast after they spent a whole night together at his place or the other time when she was riding him just 15 minutes before really important meeting. it's just between them and their perfect summer.

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

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