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sluttyten · 9 months

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You In My Arms

Chapter 2: In the Dark

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: You want to be the star of your own love story instead of watching your friends fall in love around you. Just one night opens your eyes to a method to put yourself in a starring role, even if it's not quite in the way you'd always imagined.

length: 11,005

tags: slowburn, friends to lovers, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (public & in private), general perversion, smut

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Haechan was your first love.

You met him at a formative time in your life, when you were getting your first true taste of freedom after moving away to attend the university of your dreams.

At first Haechan was just the funny guy in your orientation group, but then you started seeing him around campus from time to time, noticed that he sat in the middle of the large forum classroom your Psych class was held in, and then you discovered that his friends were friends with some of yours. Your circles overlapped, you were actually both studying for the same degree, and you took full advantage of both of those facts to ingratiate yourself into his life.

His name was Lee Donghyuck, but his friends called him Haechan.

The first time he smiled at you with his full, bright smile and told you to call him Haechan, you felt like your heart liquefied in your chest, filling you with this molten feeling of happiness.

But despite how hard and fast you fell for him, Haechan didn’t look at you as anything more than just one of his friends. You knew why. There was another girl in the group he had his eye on, though he never made a move on her either. You watched for years as all of you danced around each other. She dated several guys and slept around; Haechan slept around a good amount; and you did your very best to fall out of love with a guy you were fairly certain wasn’t interested.

Your mutual group of friends wasn’t one that necessarily drew lines when it came to relationships. Pretty much everyone had kissed or slept with everyone else, either directly or indirectly. You’d had your share of flings with some of the guys. A whirlwind romance over the summer between your second and third years at university with Mark, then a good portion of your third year you and Xiaojun had been fuckbuddies.

But through it all, your foolish heart was set on one man. Haechan.

It wasn’t until your last year at school that you finally saw an opportunity, a little chance for Haechan to move on from your other friend. She started sneaking around with Shotaro, and though no one called them out on it, you thought they were being pretty obvious. Disappearing together at parties, suddenly hanging out together a lot more.

But they kept it secret, so you never said a word, figuring they would tell all of you when they were ready.

Your fourth year of study was nearing the halfway point, and this semester felt the most brutal yet. The finish line was nearly in sight, and that was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Your whole future lay on the other side of that line, and sure, you still had the rest of this semester and the next before graduation, but really that was only a few short months away.

On a long holiday weekend, your friend group planned a camping trip. Someone in the group knew someone who knew someone (a dad’s cousin’s brother-in-law’s kid type of situation) that had a lakefront property that they usually rented out to tourists, set up for glamping and boating and all sorts of things that could keep all of you well preoccupied for a weekend. A deal was made with that distant acquaintance, and your group of friends was given free rein of the property for the weekend.

You arrived late Friday night with the last of your friends. Of course, the ones that had gotten there earlier in the day had claimed the best rooms, and since you were among the last, you were stuck just wherever, which meant that you were meant to sleep in the room with Karina and Winter, which wasn’t the worst place you could think to sleep, but it wasn’t the best either. They were fine, usually friendly, but among all of your friends, you were probably the least close with them.

So you slept in the room that night, feeling like you were invading the two girls’ space, and first thing on Saturday morning, you were up and ready for the day to start.

It was a beautiful day. Since Xiaojun was studying culinary arts, he made a very nice breakfast for all of you, while YangYang – who spenting most weekends bartending – made mimosas.

Starting out, everything was great.

It was sunny and warm, the water was perfect. There was a nice little beach, a boat, a dock. Some people played in the water, a few people left to hike on trails in the woods around the lake, you played a round of beach volleyball.

It was a fun day except that Xiaojun kept sticking rather close to your side. It would have been fine if his intentions were just friendly, but it was the way he kept trying to flirt with you that put a slight downer on the day. Every time you tried to put some distance between you and him, he would find you again.

You liked him as a friend, but what you’d had with him the previous year was in the past. You weren’t interested in being anything more than friends with him right now.

At one point, you’d gone out to the end of the dock, hoping that you’d finally get the chance to be alone. Karina was floating on a fancy blow-up pool float that she’d somehow tethered to the dock to keep from floating off into the lake, but she was minding her own business, and you didn’t think she would bother you.

But then you hear footsteps behind you, and you’re ready to turn around and fuss at Xiaojun to just leave you alone, but then Haechan plops down beside you. He calls over to Karina, and you watch her flick a mildly irritated look at him, but true to character, Haechan doesn’t let that deter him. He slips into the water, and swims right over to her.

You try to ignore both of them as you lie down on your back on the weathered boards. A light breeze keeps the heat off the sun from fully baking you, and your feet are in the lake water, helping a bit with combating the heat too. You can hear Haechan and Karina talking, hear them laughing, hear voices carrying over the water from the beach behind you.

Eventually, Haechan lifts himself back up into the dock, spraying you with tiny droplets of water. You’re about to complain about that when Haechan speaks instead.

“Hey, man!” Haechan calls out in greeting. You don’t even have to look to know who it is going to be. “That breakfast this morning was great.”

“Thanks,” Xiaojun says appreciatively as he approaches. “I have plans for dinner tonight too.”

“He’s using us as a test for his restaurant plans,” you say, tilting your head and squinting in the sunlight. The shadowy figures of Xiaojun and Haechan stand there above you. “You’re both blocking my light.”

Which is how you come to be sunbathing and cloudgazing with Xiaojun and Haechan. Xiaojun’s arm rests against yours, he keeps tapping his foot against your ankle every few minutes too, and you know exactly why he’s being like this. Maybe if he would just come out and ask if you would have sex with him, you would, but he’s just constantly trying to initiate contact and being clingy instead, and you’re not enjoying that. But Haechan’s presence, on the other hand, is something you are enjoying.

He’s in a particularly good mood, chatty and laughing, pointing up at the clouds to tell you what shapes he sees.

“I used to do this a lot when I was younger,” he tells you. “My family lives in Jeju, and sometimes my younger siblings and I would just lie on the beach when we got too tired of playing, and we would look up at the clouds.”

You turn your head, resting your cheek on the warm boards beneath you as you look over at Haechan. He’s just gazing up at the sky, one arm lifted to point at a specific cloud that you have no interest in gazing at right now. You’re looking at him beside you, sunlight personified with his golden skin and bright smile. He’s talking and Xiaojun is too, but you’re not listening to either of them.

And then Haechan looks over at you, and you snap your head around to look up at the clouds again.

The rest of the day passes. Dinner preparations begin. You disappear inside to shower the feel of sweat, sunscreen, sand, and lakewater off of you. As evening sinks in, the air cools off, so you dress warmer before you return outside to sit by the fire. Most people are gathered out here, though a few of your friends are still inside cleaning themselves up or finishing up preparing food, but you find Haechan sitting in a foldable camp chair with an open seat right beside him.

You take it.

He flinches, startled at your sudden appearance, but he relaxes as you start talking. You talk about school of all things – you’d not thought ahead to figure out anything else to talk about right now, only knowing that you wanted to talk with him. But you do end up offering him some study help, and your heart beats a little faster when you think about the chance to be alone with Haechan in a study room in the library or at his dorm maybe. You enjoy Haechan’s presence, so you’ll take any opportunity to be alone with him, even if it is just to study.

“I might take you up on that. But like you said, this is a nice break,” he sighs, and tips his head back, looking similar to how he’d looked earlier on the dock. “I feel like this weekend we can all just relax and let loose.”

You want to let loose, really. To be a little careless tonight and just let your walls fall down, maybe use the excuse of some alcohol to kiss Haechan, to entice him into bed, and if it’s weird in the morning then you can just blame it on the alcohol. Your mind plays with the idea of drunkenly kissing Haechan tonight, sliding into his lap here at the bonfire to kiss him in front of all of your friends. You can already imagine the hoots, whistles, and catcalls, the sounds of surprise because none of them would expect something like that of you.

You want to let loose, to look as carefree and relaxed as Haechan does.

Haechan looks over at you, and you realize you’re smiling. He smiles too, an almost involuntary curve of his lips to match your own.

"When do you ever hold back from letting loose, Lee Donghyuck?" You ask, feeling a happy laugh bubble from your lips. He always seems so carefree, very go-with-the-flow and happy. The idea of Haechan needing to become more loose makes you laugh.

You see a hint of surprise in his eyes before he’s laughing with you. And then you’re laughing even harder, both of you leaning in towards each other with the gravity of the emotions.

To no one’s surprise, least of all your own, Xiaojun appears to take the seat on your other side, wondering what you’re both laughing about. He does his very best to steal your attention away from Haechan, and it actually works.

You do like Xiaojun, he’s a good friend, which is why your friends with benefits relationship had worked out so well for so long last year; he knows the right things to say to you, so you are fully swept into a new conversation with him, and when you next look around, Haechan is gone.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but you think it must anyway because Xiaojun seems to make it his purpose for the rest of the evening to cheer you up. The food does a good job of that, and then Xiaojun and Chenle’s company does well at keeping you entertained as night falls, a chill creeping in off the lake, and YangYang’s alcoholic creations – as well as a typical cooler of beer – make their rounds.

You don’t really pay too much attention to the rest of your friends while Chenle is regaling you with a tale of a trip he took, and you’re definitely not paying attention to how much other people are drinking, until you start hearing raised voices, teasing laughter, and Haechan’s voice cutting above the rest. You turn to look.

They’re teasing Shotaro again, that quickly becomes obvious.

He’s sitting there in his seat beside your friend he’s secretly been hooking up with for weeks now, and he looks a little embarrassed, but he’s still in the stage of not minding it. But Haechan is the one leading the teasing, and as you watch, you can tell that he’s setting Shotaro’s girl off, she’s getting rather prickly.

You can tell Haechan is a bit more drunk than most other people. There’s a flush to his cheeks and his neck, a hazy gleam to his eyes, a slight slur to his speech. He’s not wasted, but he’s more drunk than not. He’s just teasing, and as you listen to him, you realize that he’s throwing a few barbed points in there, like he knows something most of your friends don’t.

Does he know about the secret relationship too?

She gets all defensive, throwing some shots back at Haechan, and that’s when you see the drunken haze clear in his eyes, replaced by an angry heat as she calls his skills in bed into question. The teasing has become an argument, and you watch as Haechan rises to his feet, ready to face off with the girl, and he likely would have if it weren’t for Shotaro and Renjun stepping in.

Renjun propels Haechan back into the cabin while Shotaro leads his girlfriend off towards the dark lakeshore.

“Wow,” Xiaojun whistles beside you. “What the hell was that about?”

Chenle laughs. “Taro and her have something going on, don’t they? And Haechan is jealous.”

You keep glancing towards the house, looking for any sign of Renjun and Haechan returning. It was both a little bit scary and also arousing to watch Haechan get so heated. He had been a little bit of a dick, trying to out the secret couple to everyone, and also for really getting in there with teasing Shotaro.

You’d once talked about it with Shotaro, and he told you that he usually didn’t mind the teasing, because he knew it was lighthearted and it’s just the way that all of the friends teased each other. But you also knew that sometimes it got taken a bit too far, and it was clear that tonight the scales had tipped more in that direction. Haechan had almost pushed it too far tonight, and you knew he was drunk so his judgment was perhaps a bit impaired in that regard.

Eventually the happy couple returns to the bonfire, receiving congratulations from your friends, and a while after that Haechan returns.

You keep looking at him, unable to keep your eyes off of him for too long. The flush has faded from his cheeks, and he keeps drinking water for the rest of the night while he snacks on leftovers from dinner, on s’mores YangYang makes, on snacks that people had brought down from the cabin earlier.

Slowly everyone turns in for the night until only a few of you remain, the number dwindling down to just you, Xiaojun, Jeno, Mark, Haechan, Shotaro, and Shotaro’s girlfriend.

Haechan has been moodily staring into the fire for the past fifteen minutes. You’ve been watching him do that while ignoring the way that Xiaojun has his hand resting in the armrest of your chair, palm-up like he wants you to take notice, as if he’s hoping that you’ll take his hand and go into one of the fancy glamping tents that are set up sporadically between the cabin and the lakeshore.

It’s gotten a lot colder as the night has drawn on. Even with your pants and sweatshirt, with a blanket draped over your lap and the blazing fire, you still feel chilled every time that a lick of wind blows in off the lake. It doesn’t help that your feet are bare, so you pull them up beneath your blanket as you shiver.

Xiaojun notices of course, and he grabs the blanket someone had left on the chair on his other side, and he covers your lap with it. If you’re this cold that you need a second blanket, you think maybe it’s time that you go inside the warmer cabin for the night. Besides, it’s getting late.

Jeno, who you’re fairly certain has been in a competition with himself for how much he can drink tonight without getting blackout drunk, grins crookedly, and suggests, “Maybe before we head in, we all take a dip in the hot tub?”

“Nah, I think I’m done for the night,” Mark sighs and rises to his feet. “It’s too cold.”

“I’m sure it helps that you’ve got someone new to warm your bed though, I bet, Mark!” Jeno laughs as Mark gets up and starts to walk away.

You laugh along with the rest, knowing that Jeno’s referring to how Mark and one of the girls had disappeared into the cabin for a while earlier tonight. Mark just flips you all his middle finger.

To your surprise, it’s the new happy couple on the other side of the fire that agrees with Jeno. Haechan lifts his gaze from the fire, brushing it over the couple, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he looks at Jeno. Haechan shrugs and agrees, and from there of course you’re going to agree too. Xiaojun, to your complete surprise, decides that he’s just going to head to bed.

Xiaojun trudges back to the house alone, wishing you all a good night. The five of you follow the path back up to the cabin’s deck, walking around the side of the deck to the hot tub.

You feel only slightly embarrassed as you watch the others quickly strip their clothes off. Shirts, sweatshirts, pants until they’re left only in their underwear. Haechan at least still had his swim trunks on from earlier today when everyone had been in the lake, so he’s provided a bit more coverage than the rest of you. You feel his eyes dart over to you as you’re the last to let your shirt fall, the last to shimmy your sweatpants down to your ankles, slipping them off along with your socks.

You’re too aware that the bra and panties you’re wearing are mismatched. Panties white (a horrible choice for wearing into a hot tub, but it’s not like when you’d dressed earlier this evening you’d expected the night to go like this) and your bra just a lacy bralette that hugs your tits and does very little to hide the way that your nipples peak in the cool night air. You quickly step into the hot tub and dunk yourself in up to your chin, hoping the bubbling surface will hide you.

It doesn’t take long for you to relax. None of them care or notice. Shotaro and his sweetheart are too enamored with each other. Jeno is finally teetering on the edge of dozy drunkenness. Haechan keeps alternating between looking up at the night sky and trying not to look at the girl tucked against Shotaro’s side. He’s sitting beside you though, and his knee keeps nudging yours under the water.

One of the jets sits between you and Haechan, and it keeps brushing your side and your thigh, tickling you in a way that thrills you more than anything else. A different wet heat builds between your legs, especially when Haechan leans over to laugh at something you’ve said and he rests a hand momentarily on your thigh.

You try to ignore your desires. To push it all down and tell yourself that you’re being stupid right now.

But then his arm drapes over your shoulders (and Jeno’s on his other side, but you pretend that doesn’t matter) and all thoughts vanish except for your brain making a static moan at the feeling of his body warm and hard against your side, his fingers resting against your upper arm. His laugh sounds right beside your ear.

You don’t even remember what it is that all of you talk about. Maybe classes. Maybe finals coming up or plans for the winter break that follows. It’s not until you smile at the cuddly couple across from you, until Haechan tenses up and withdraws his arm from your shoulders that your mind snaps back into place.

He stands up and you lift your gaze in awe of him. Water drips from his shoulders over his chest and down his stomach to his navel and his hips. The swim trunks hang low on his hips, weighed down by the water soaking them, drawing your gaze even lower. You bite your tongue as you notice the slight bulge in the front of his shorts, and again you feel a pulse of need and want in your core.

Haechan doesn’t say a word, just climbs out, grabs his clothes and disappears around the corner of the cabin.

Is that it? He’s done for the night? He’s had enough of the happy couple rubbing it in his face?

You immediately want to follow him, but you give it a few minutes before you bid the others goodnight, and you hurriedly pull yourself from the water, cursing as the bitter air bites in deep. Even once you’ve bundled your dry clothes against your chest and made a run for the back door of the cabin, you’re shivering and wishing one of you had at least thought to grab towels.

Jeno’s only a few steps behind you. He looks happy as he comes through the door, a loose grin on his lips. He drops his armful of clothes into one of the chairs around the small kitchen table, mumbles a goodnight, and then he vanishes through the doorway that leads to the room several of the guys are sharing tonight.

There’s a vent blowing warm air positioned right beside the kitchen table, and as a shiver wracks your body, you collapse into one of the chairs right there. You fold your arms on the table, drop your forehead onto your arms, and you try to purge your mind and body of the lust you’re feeling from the sight of Haechan emerging from the hot tub like a sea god.

It doesn’t work.

Your mind’s eye keeps honing in on that bulge you’d seen. You’ve heard tales before of Haechan. He’s a little bit of a manwhore at times, slept with plenty of girls you’ve been friends with, so you’ve got some awareness of what he’s like. You’ve got a mental image painted by a very descriptive sex-positive friend of yours majoring in the liberal arts. She has an emphasis in painting and poetry, both of which she has created for almost all of her partners including Haechan.

So you have a somewhat specific idea of what his dick may look like, and a more general idea of what kind of skills he might possess, and neither of those things are what you need right now when you’re desperately horny and stuck in a house with all of your friends and zero privacy.

But they are all sleeping, right? Karina and Winter had turned in rather early, so they’re probably deep into REM sleep, so if you just quietly come into the room, maybe you can try to quietly rub one out before sleep. Or you could try to sneak into the shower. It would be nice and warm in there, private too.

Before you can make a decision, you hear the squeak of a floorboard, and the soft sound of bare feet on the floor. You turn your head so you can see who it is.

Haechan.

His eyes land on you, a glimmer of surprise and then his face lights up.

“Are you just gonna sleep out here?” He teases. “You know the King bed upstairs is still open if it’s the idea of rooming with Karina and Winter that has you scared to sleep in there.”

You have nothing against those two. They’re nice and friendly, but you’re not terribly close with them, and when you’d placed your bag on the bottom bunk the previous evening upon your arrival, they’d exchanged looks that made you feel like they’d rather share the room themselves without your presence. Last night had been fine, and it’s not the reason you’re lingering out here at all.

Haechan looks at you, like really looks at you, and suddenly you remember that you’re still in just your bralette and panties, still clinging wetly and semi-transparently to you. All of you is exposed in that moment. A blush rises hotly to your cheeks as you rock up to your feet. You press your clothes close to your chest again.

“Why is no one sleeping up there?” You ask, glancing at the set of stairs that leads up to the only King bed in the cabin.

“A few of us played for it last night. Winner got the single room.” He grins, and proudly tells you. “I won. But I’m not tired yet, so you’re definitely welcome to sleep up there if you want.”

Your heart stutters briefly in your chest. “And what about when you do get tired? Where are you gonna sleep then?”

He shrugs. “That’s a problem for then. I’m gonna head back outside. Fire’s still going so someone should probably keep an eye on it.”

Haechan reaches for the doorknob of the door, and right as it turns in his hand, the words leap out of you: “When you get tired, Haechan….” He turns to look at you, and his eyes are gentle and deep, and you forget your words for a moment. “Uh, well… it’s a big bed. I'm happy to share.”

You’re definitely a little bit in love with the way he smiles then. This slow smile, surprised and leaning a little bit towards a smirk. His eyes sweep over you quickly, from your bare toes curling on the floor up to your face which feels hot right now.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan says, and then he’s gone, stepping out into the night.

Goosebumps rise on your skin, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s from the cool breeze that snuck inside or if it’s just a chill running down your spine at your own boldness in inviting Haechan to join you in bed. Maybe not necessarily in the way that you want him, but certainly in more of a way than you’ve had him before.

Almost as soon as the back door clicks shut again, you’re off, hurrying up the stairs and taking the turn to the King bedroom. The other doors up here are closed, and when you step inside this room, immediately you’re assaulted with the smell of Haechan’s favored fragrance. You’ve asked him before what it is, but you never remember. All you know is that this room now smells like him.

You close the door behind you, and you don’t even bother to turn on the lights. This room is situated on the corner of the house, and with windows on two of the walls, you’re provided just enough light to see by. The flickering of the firelight barely comes through the window to your left, and the window right ahead of you is filled with the glow of the lights strung through the pergola over the hot tub.

The bed is still unmade from when Haechan left it this morning. His bag is on the desk, several of his clothes flung around. There’s a door slightly ajar that leads to an en-suite bathroom. You should probably shower again after being in the hot tub, but now that you’re this close to the bed you’re not feeling like doing anything more than just crawling into bed and passing out.

Before you succumb to the lure of sleep, you take a moment to peek out the window facing the lakeshore and the bonfire. You can see the bonfire still going, see the chairs still circled around it as well as the two fancy glamping tents that no one has used yet, except Xiaojun when he took a nap earlier.

But you don’t see Haechan.

You scan the shadows, wondering if you’ve somehow overlooked him.

And then you notice a shadow stretching across the deck beneath you. A long shadow originating from the corner of the house, just out of sight. It’s definitely a man-shaped shadow, the lights over the hot tub cast the shadow diagonally backwards across the deck until it fades in the light coming from the back door. You notice the shadow isn’t moving, and you’re curious as to why.

You just barely manage to not stub your toe or trip over anything as you move across to the other window, the one looking down just around the corner of the house.

A quiet gasp leaves your mouth as you look down at the hot tub below.

Assuming that it’s Haechan’s stationary shadow at the corner of the house, you can understand why he might be frozen right there.

Shotaro and his girlfriend are having sex in the hot tub. She’s riding him, his hands all over her body as she moves on top of him. You’re sure if the window was open even a little bit you might be able to hear them.

Is Haechan down there just watching them? Like a pervert?

That’s gross….

… But you also kind of like it.

Your mind gets absorbed into a fantasy, imagining him standing there touching himself while he watches his friend fuck the girl Haechan wishes he was fucking. Haechan the voyeur, the pervert, masturbating while watching two of his friends fuck.

Thinking of that just sends you farther down the path, and you step away from the window, sliding into the bed without delay.

The sheets definitely smell like Haechan. You slide into the spot where the sheets look most rumpled, rest your head on the pillow that looks slept upon. You bury your nose in the fabric and breathe in, wrapped entirely in that scent that reminds you so much of Haechan.

Your mind still swirls with the fantasy of him down there touching himself, the images in your mind turn to just Haechan stroking his cock, maybe a scenario where he’d found you alone in the hot tub, touching yourself and he stands beside the tub, jerking off while you make yourself cum on your fingers.

You can’t help yourself when you slide your fingers down your body, dipping them inside your damp panties to touch yourself while you breathe in Haechan, while you let the scent intoxicate you and build your fantasy, although your mind can’t settle on just one. A fantasy where you’re tangled with him right here in these sheets, one where he comes up to go to bed and finds you with your fingers buried in your cunt and his name a chant on your lips, another where you joined him out at the fire to blow him while the crackling heat of the fire warms your back, and one where you’d dragged him into one of those unused tents out there and let him ride your ass until you can’t fucking move tomorrow.

You cum on your fingers, making your panties just that much wetter as you drip around your fingers and rut your hips against the bed. Your moan of Haechan’s name is muffled against the pillow as you bite down on it and wish that it was his shoulder you were biting.

Your body goes so relaxed, boneless after your orgasm. You don’t even pull your fingers away, leaving your hand inside your panties as you breathe and wait for your pounding heart to return to normal. The house is quiet around you, though you swear you hear a moan from outside the window.

You don’t know what drives you to do it, what filthy part of you thinks it’s okay, but once you regain some mobility in your limbs, you slip your hand from your panties. Your fingers are still wet and slick, and you lift them to wipe them on the pillow case, mingling your scent right there with Haechan’s. You breathe it in, and your heart thrills at the combination, the perfect perfume.

Just as you’re about to roll over, to slide onto the other side of the bed to leave Haechan’s already slept-in side for him again, the door of the room opens.

You jump slightly.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” Haechan apologizes.

You sink back into the sheets on his side of the bed. He closes the door behind him, and you hear his shuffling footsteps cross the floor. You hear the soft whisper of his sweatshirt being pulled over his head, a similar sound when a moment later he drops his swim trunks. He steps into the en-suite for a few moments, and when he emerges you can just see the shadowy shape of him moving over to his bag on the desk. He pulls out some sweatpants, slips them on and then crosses back to the other side of the bed.

“You smell like lake water, bonfire smoke, and chlorine,” you mumble as he slides into the bed. Not that it’s a bad thing that he smells like that because even under it all, you can still catch that definite Haechan-scent. You still wish you could pull yourself closer and bury your nose against him, breathing it all in.

“I’ll shower in the morning,” Haechan says, his words already half-muffled. “You’re on my side of the bed, by the way.”

He shuffles a little closer, and although this bed is big, you’re still very aware of him when his foot bumps against yours.

“You’re the one that invited me. Guess you should’ve been more specific about where you wanted me.” You flip over onto your side to face him. His eyes gleam slightly in the dim light still coming in from the lights over the hot tub.

“Next time I’ll make it clear where I want you,” Haechan says.

You don’t know what exactly he means by that, but you’ll take it as a promise that there will be a next time for you to end up in his bed.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Xiaojun asks it so casually that you almost don’t even hear the question.

Since the camping trip just two weeks ago, you’ve given in to his desires, slipped back into your old ways. Reentering into your friends-with-benefits sort of situation with him.

You’re currently in the process of extracting yourself from his bed, dressing yourself as you sit perched on the edge of the bed. You pause what you’re doing to look back over your shoulder at him.

Xiaojun is reclined among the messy sheets, carefree with his sex hair and his bare chest dotted with hickeys and marks left behind by your fingernails. He’s watching you warily.

“A date?” You ask. He nods. “Where’s this coming from?”

He shrugs. “I just thought maybe it might be nice to hang out just the two of us without it only meaning sex. Plus there’s that Halloween party tomorrow night. Most of our friends are gonna be there. There’s booze, movies, music. It should be fun.” Seeing the apprehensive look on your face, Xiaojun says, “It doesn’t have to be like a date-date. I just want to have someone there to have fun with, y’know? A date for the party.”

You like Xiaojun. He’s hot, handsome, fun. He’s nice too and he treats his dog like his firstborn child which is kinda endearing, but you’re not really into him like in a romantic sort of way. You’re too hung up on Haechan to allow yourself to truly develop feelings for anyone else. And truthfully, that night during the camping trip when you’d shared Haechan’s bed is part of the reason you’d so eagerly thrown yourself back into Xiaojun’s arms.

You’d woken late the next morning on the trip still in bed with Haechan. Your nose was buried against that spot on the pillow that smelled like you and like him, and you’d maybe let yourself watch him sleep for a few more minutes until you decided that it was creepy to watch him. So you’d left, fleeing down to the kitchen.

Haechan hadn’t even acknowledged you sharing his bed. He’d only spoken a few words to you for the rest of that day, and then that night you hadn’t dared return to that bed, too worried that you would throw yourself at Haechan and be faced with outright rejection or maybe he would accept your horny advances but that’s all it would be. Just sex, like this with Xiaojun. And you might end up heartbroken.

So you’d turned to Xiaojun.

Maybe he’s exactly the distraction you need.

“Do we have to wear costumes?” You weren’t planning to do anything like that this year, and with Halloween only a day away, your choices are probably pretty slim.

“Please?” He wheedles, giving you a sweet smile. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The following night, you’re walking arm-in-arm with Xiaojun across the long lawn in front of one of the nicer buildings on campus. The air is rather nippy, so you wish you’d dressed warmer considering this party is outdoors, but at least there are the large bonfires to put off a bit of heat. And Xiaojun is kind and considerate and keeps you close to his side with a jacket draped over your shoulders.

The jacket kinda ruins your costume but you don’t really care. You came dressed in contrast to Xiaojun’s devilish costume, so you’re an angel tonight, wearing just a short white dress, white shoes, a hastily made halo, and enough sparkly highlighter on your face and collarbones that you seem to glow when any amount of light touches your skin.

You wander around with Xiaojun for a while, just chatting and strolling around the bonfires, stopping to grab drinks, even briefly dancing together where there’s a DJ. Eventually you find a small cluster of your friends – Renjun, Jisung, YangYang – but you visit with them only briefly before moving on.

You want some excitement tonight, and you know that Xiaojun had invited you on this not-date with a promise of seeing each other in a non-sexual way. But you want sex. That’s your favorite thing to do with Xiaojun.

So once you’ve led him away from your friends, you pull him around the side of the building that presides over this long lawn where the party is being held. Everyone is too focused on the party being held in front of the building to notice the couple sneaking around the side, so you pull Xiaojun against you as you lean back against the wall, dragging his mouth down against yours for a kiss.

He falls into that easily enough, succumbing to your kiss instantly. But you don’t want just a kiss. You want more.

Xiaojun moans softly when you curl your fingers around his wrist, when you pull his hand to your thigh. You lift the short skirt of your angelic white dress, and you guide his hand higher until his fingers find the soft warmth of your panties.

“Been thinking about your fingers, Xiaojun.” You press the words against his lips between kisses, begging a little when you say, “Need to feel your fingers inside me. Now.”

“Now?” He repeats, pulling his mouth away. “Here?”

You hum, nodding your head, using your fingers against his to massage them against your clit. Xiaojun just watches you, a curious look on his face when he asks, “Won’t we get in trouble if anyone catches us?

“No, Xiaojun, it’s kinda hot, right?” You tug him forward by the lapels of his jacket. “Please?”

“But what if someone sees?” He looks around, peeking right around the corner to the steps up into the building not so far away at all. Currently there are a few people clustered around the base of the stairs, chatting over their drinks, their laughter loud enough to mask any sounds you might make. They’re so close by, and that thrills you.

You want to know what it feels like to have sex somewhere that you might be caught, somewhere that someone might be able to watch.

Xiaojun still looks hesitant.

“Look,” you sigh, patting his shoulder lightly. “We don’t have to if you really don’t want to. I just thought it might be something fun and different.”

The way Xiaojun looks at you then tells you a lot without him even having to say any words aloud. He thought tonight might be fun and different too, different than you just wanting to fuck him.

But you’re feeling the urge to do something slightly dangerous tonight, and maybe it’s because ever since that night at the cabin about two weeks ago, all you’ve been thinking about has been the way that Haechan stood down there on the deck, peeking around the corner at Shotaro and his girlfriend. And you’ve wanted someone to watch you. Of course, a part of you kinda wishes it would be Haechan, but when you’ve actually thought about it over the recent days, you’ve realized you really like the idea of anyone watching you.

Maybe you’re an exhibitionist. It’s a new thing that has never occurred to you before, but lately it’s all you’ve been thinking about.

“I can’t.” Xiaojun shakes his head and takes a step back. “I have some… different things that I’m into, but I just can’t get into this. Public stuff is not a thing for me.”

That’s your cue to ask him what is a thing for him? What sorts of different kinks is Xiaojun into?

But you don’t ask because you realize in that moment that you don’t care. This is why you’d ended your friends with benefits relationship the first time around. The sex was generally good and fun, but there were some differences in what you wanted to try out even that first time around. You’d forgotten that.

“It’s fine, Xiaojun. You can leave.” Your words are maybe a little too cold and dismissive, but Xiaojun doesn’t react in any way other than simply walking away, leaving you there around the dark corner of the building.

You sigh and press your shoulders back against the stone. It’s still slightly warm from the sunlight earlier, though the night air is still sharp against your exposed skin. You don’t care that you’re alone. Maybe you’ll just stand right here and get yourself off. Your clit is swollen, pussy throbbing with need, so all it takes is just that thought that you could get yourself off right here, and your hand is already drifting in that direction.

Your skirt is hiked up around your hips now, and your fingers visibly disappear down the front of your panties. You don’t care what you look like right now with your head tipped back against the wall, the motion of your arm and fingers making it very obvious what you’re doing if anyone were to look this way. You’re playing with your clit, dipping your fingers back to your slit to gather up your wetness, slicking your fingers between the folds and just teasing yourself.

The thin strap of your dress slips down over the curve of your right shoulder. You rock your hips forward against the slide of your fingers.

You’ve never done anything like this before. The closest you’ve gotten was masturbating at your apartment when your bed was in front of the window, but your window didn’t face any neighbors, just a solid, windowless wall of the building next door. Tonight you’re horny and feeling risky and adventurous. Thus, the semi-public masturbation.

Just around the corner, you can hear people talking and laughing.

You lift your free hand to your chest, palming the curve of your breast, and with the other hand, you finally give your pussy what she really wants. If you can’t have Xiaojun’s fingers, you’ll certainly settle for your own.

There’s not a free hand left to cover your mouth to hide your gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. You bite your lip, but that only works so well as you finger yourself and imagine that it was someone else, or imagine that someone is hiding in those bushes a few feet away watching you, touching himself as he watches you edge yourself closer and closer to orgasm.

That thought makes your pussy pulse hungrily, your breath coming out sharply. You want to pull your dress down, bare your tits so you can touch them properly. You wish Xiaojun hadn’t left you because you would get him down on the ground right now so you could ride him, feel the night air on your skin under the not-so-distant glow of the nearest bonfire. So you do squat down right there beside the building, spreading your legs a bit so you can get a better angle with your fingers buried in your pussy.

“Fuck,” you moan under your breath. Your ankles wobble, and you lose your balance, flopping down onto your ass, your shoulders come to rest against the wall, but you don’t stop what you’re doing.

You don’t stop until you feel your orgasm mounting, you don’t stop until it is coursing through you, your head tipped back against the wall, heart pounding, pleasure curling your toes and flushing your skin with sweet heat to combat the night’s chill.

You gasp then sigh, catching your breath as you slide your fingers out of your panties. You wipe your hand on the grass, drag your dress back down to cover you, and you take a moment to just come back to yourself. You can feel the heat settling under your skin, your panties sticking wet against your pussy lips. Exhilaration at having just done that makes it all the more enjoyable.

You liked that a lot.

Getting off in public.

A branch cracks underfoot nearby, and you look up.

A police officer is walking across the lawn from the closest bonfire, making for you. He freezes when you get to your feet, then he takes a few wary steps closer.

When he’s close enough, you realize who the officer is.

“Haechan?”

He pulls a cocky grin onto his face. “Yes, angel?”

You flutter your hands over your dress, making sure it’s all properly pulled back into place.

Haechan cocks his head a little to the side. “What’re you doing way over here? By yourself?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Are you alright?” The look of amusement on his face fades, replaced with one of concern.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Truly, you’re more than fine after an orgasm like that. “Xiaojun asked me to come with him tonight and I think he’s thinking of this more as a date than just us casually hanging out. I needed a little space from him.”

Haechan watches you, his gaze running over your face and your posture, and you feel like he’s picking you apart, but you’re not exactly sure what it is that he’s seeing. After a moment he just looks away, back over his shoulder to scan the lawn. When his gaze returns to you, he’s back to wearing his cocky expression, “Well, I’m looking for a naughty schoolgirl. Have you seen one come by here?”

Not recently, but you saw one earlier tonight. You vaguely recognized her as a friend of Mark’s. She’d come around the group a few times, but she wasn’t a regular.

“Why are you looking for her?” You ask.

Haechan just grins. “Oh, you know how naughty schoolgirls are. I’m just doing my job as a truancy officer, looking for her to punish her.”

You roll your eyes and walk around him, making it only a few steps back towards the light of the front of the building when Haechan’s hand closes around your wrist.

“What were you doing over there, little angel? Your ass is covered in dirt.” He laughs, and you halfway twist around to look down. Sure enough, the butt of your white dress has dirt on it, but you can’t really reach it very well. Haechan offers, “Do you want some help?”

The moment that his hand touches your ass, patting to remove the dirt which puffs away in small clouds, you feel your core reignite with hunger. Haechan’s hand comes down again, a light pat that you wish was a bit harder, though at the same time, you’re grateful it’s not any harder or else you would probably moan aloud. As it is, your face feels very warm when Haechan finally takes a step around you.

“There,” he says proudly, “All better. But your halo is a little crooked too.”

He reaches up, readjusting your halo. You take the moment to look at him, to stare at his handsome face, so light with amusement right now. And then he lays a hand on top of your head, right beneath the halo, and his gaze lowers to yours.

“You make a good angel. Perfect and innocent as you are.” Haechan smiles, a real soft smile.

“I’m not innocent,” you immediately shoot back.

He shrugs a little. His fingers pet your hair a bit before he removes his hand. “Well you’re certainly no naughty devil. I’ve never heard any wild stories about you, which makes you an innocent angel in my eyes.”

You frown.

Haechan just smiles, then says, “Well, I have a naughty schoolgirl to look for, if you’ll excuse me.” He walks away without another look back, and you decide that you’re done for the night. You’re done with this party. You’re probably done with Xiaojun, honestly. And you definitely don’t want to hang around and find out if Haechan is going to find his naughty schoolgirl.

You take the winter break to give yourself the opportunity to put some distance between you and Xiaojun, and some distance between you and your useless crush on Haechan. Most of your friends leave campus for the break, but you hang around to work and get a little bit of a head start on the new semester. It’s your final semester, so in a few months you and most of your friends will be graduating.

You also take the winter break to explore that side of you that you’d started to see during October. The exhibitionist side.

You start small at first.

Going out with no panties, no bra just for the impropriety of it.

You test the waters by touching yourself while you drive back to your apartment from the grocery one day. You build yourself up very, very slowly. Scared of getting caught, but also thrilled with the idea of someone seeing what you’re doing and maybe them getting turned on too.

As soon as the semester resumes, you begin taking your exhibitionist thrills onto campus itself. No panties and a short skirt while you’re sitting in class or in the library, legs spread just enough that the students or even a professor could see. You rub one out in the restroom between classes a few times, and you’re almost certain that you were found out at least a couple times by others using the restroom when a moan or other such sound escapes you.

As your last semester begins to tick by, you finally begin taking more risks. Such as a picnic in the park with a guy you’d met online who seemed interested in hooking up and doing it in public. He’d fingered you while he fed you cut up fruits with the other hand, which was really more of an excuse to let you suck on his fingers to keep quiet. Just a one-off because, although you liked the experience, there was something lacking with the guy.

So you’d tried again with another – a guy that actually did see up your skirt while you were studying late one night at the library, and as soon as you noticed him keep sneaking glances, you decided to tease him. One hand slid down to tease yourself, and when he caught you watching him watching you, you’d silently invited him to join you for a quick fuck in the nearest restroom. Again, the experience was fun, but there was something missing about him.

And then one night you’re over at the rented house of several of your friends. It’s midterms, so everyone’s trying to study together for various classes, or at least trying to drink away the stress. Jeno and Haechan are studying for their Econ exam in the kitchen, taking up the majority of the space although there’s still just enough room for YangYang and Renjun to make a mess in trying to be chefs and bartenders for the rest of you.

You know that YangYang has already given up on studying for any of his midterms. Renjun already knows that he’s well-prepared. They’re just trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time. Mark, Shotaro, Jaemin, and a few of the girls are in the living room attempting to study with you, but you’re on the verge of giving up for the night. You have a bit of a buzz going on from the boozy drinks that YangYang keeps passing around, and you have a full belly from the snacks Renjun keeps making.

“Should we watch a movie instead or something?” Renjun suggests when Jaemin also complains about being bored with studying.

“Maybe we should all just go to bed.” Jaemin frowns a little as he says it, casting a look first towards his bedroom down the hallway, and then looking towards the kitchen where Haechan and Jeno have just loudly begun bickering over some Econ lesson.

Shotaro’s girlfriend leans her head on his shoulder. “I agree. I’m tired, and I have a project due early in the morning tomorrow.”

“I told you not to take such an early morning class,” Shotaro teases, slipping his arm tight around her shoulders. He puts on a cutesy tone as he asks her, “Do you want to leave, baby? Should we go?”

Gross, you think. And then you almost laugh.

You’re grossed out by their cutesy, romantic display of affection in public, and yet you’re the one with actual exhibitionist tendencies.

Jaemin disappears to bed. Shotaro and his girlfriend leave. Everyone else in the room gives up on studying to instead settle in and watch a movie. You look towards the kitchen again as you settle in comfortably between Renjun and YangYang on the sofa, lights off, movie on. Jeno and Haechan aren’t paying any attention to the rest of you; they’re still in the other room diligently studying, and you can’t help watching Haechan.

He’s clearly frustrated. The glasses he's wearing keep sliding down his nose, his hair is ruffled from him running his fingers through it. He’s pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow. He’s wearing loose basketball shorts, and he has one foot resting on his chair with his knee bent up which has caused the leg of the shorts to bunch up, revealing so many inches of beautiful bare thigh.

You’ve been trying so hard to get over this crush you have on him, but right now you’re epically failing. All you can imagine is sitting on the floor beneath that table, licking and biting at his thighs, pulling his dick out of the shorts to suck him off while he continues studying. Give him a reward for behaving so studiously.

“Hey.”

A finger pokes your cheek.

You return to reality, and the fantasy of having Haechan’s cock in your mouth fades away. Renjun smiles at you.

“You’re not even watching the movie right now. Is Haechan really that much more interesting?” His voice is just a whisper, but it’s still loud enough that you feel a minor surge of panic. You glance around making sure that none of your other friends have heard, that Haechan couldn’t have possibly heard even though he’s all the way over there in the kitchen. Renjun laughs again, leaning closer until his lips are right against your ear. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” You play dumb, and Renjun just rolls his eyes. “Really, Renjun. What secret? I was just staring because, well, if I’m being honest –” Which, for the record, you’re not being honest. “ — their talking is distracting me.”

Renjun cocks an eyebrow and looks back over towards the kitchen where Jeno and Haechan are sitting in silence, poring over textbooks and notebooks and Jeno’s iPad screen. The only sound coming from them is the scratching of pens on paper.

You sigh, momentarily letting your gaze wander to Haechan’s thighs as he now brings his other leg up. The shorts on that side also slide down so both of his bare golden thighs are on clear display. Maybe you let out another day-dreamy sigh.

Renjun looks back over at you, a quick up and down. He looks like he doesn’t entirely buy your story. He snorts, “Why don’t you just admit it?”

You know exactly what he’s referring to, but you refuse to admit to him that you have a crush or whatever on Haechan. Not happening.

“I’d have to be blind to miss that horny gleam in your eye,” Renjun whispers.

The call-out feels like a wallop to your chest. You actually flinch, struggling to find the words until you eventually mumble, “It’s just been a while, okay? I’m… lonely, Renjun.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” Renjun promises.

On your other side, YangYang loudly laughs at something that happens on the screen, and you realize there’s no way that he’s paying even the slightest attention to the conversation you and Renjun are having. There’s no way that he notices as you shift yourself a little bit closer to Renjun, and Renjun doesn’t even comment on the way that you reduced the inches of space between you to now just a few centimeters. He turns his attention back to the movie without another word about you staring at Haechan or you confessing to him that you’re lonely.

You try to watch the movie too. You try to forget Haechan with his beautiful thighs sitting right over there in the kitchen, try to forget the way that in the brief fantasy you’d allowed yourself, you’d somehow made yourself very horny. You try so hard to suppress that horniness, and it works for a little while as you get sucked into the movie.

But then a sex scene comes on.

The atmosphere in the room changes slightly.

You shift a little – bunching your hands up in the blanket that covers your lap, you move your legs, shift your weight trying to get a little more comfortable.

Renjun’s hand lands on your thigh. “Settle down,” he murmurs out of the corner of his mouth.

You look over at him. The way he’s not even looking at you, but still watching the scene playing out on the screen. Then your gaze slides down his arm to the place where his hand disappears beneath your blanket, to the lump beneath the blanket that is his hand on your thigh. Renjun seems to notice your gaze suddenly, and he begins to remove his hand.

His head snaps around towards you the moment that your hand covers his, keeping his palm flat against your thigh. You make eye contact, and his lips part slightly. His eyes dip down to your lap before sweeping around the room to make sure that no one is looking, and then his eyes settle on your face.

You nod, squeeze his hand.

YangYang sits just half a foot away from you on your left side. Blissfully unaware as Renjun’s hand begins inching up your thigh, as his fingers trace along the center seam of the athletic shorts you’d worn over here tonight. On the small loveseat perpendicular to your sofa, Mark and one of the other girls sit entirely oblivious even when Renjun lets out a tiny gasp of surprise when his fingers dip inside your shorts and find that you’d foregone panties tonight. The other two girls are stretched out on their bellies on the floor, and they don’t have any clue that you spread your legs a little wider, casually draping one over Renjun’s leg to open yourself up for him to touch you in the presence of all of your gathered friends.

You can’t believe Renjun is doing this. Yeah, you’ve heard a couple stories about him, but nothing like this. Just a few tales about him, but none of the handful of stories had mentioned him having any interest in anything like this.

His eyes shine in the light coming from the screen when you reach a hand of reciprocation over into his lap. Unlike you, Renjun is wearing underwear, but that doesn’t get in your way too much. Soon you have him in your hand, and he’s circling his fingers at your clit.

You both touch each other, taking it slow and building up that tension and heat. You want to keep it unnoticeable, but also you feel a zing of excitement when you think about YangYang beside you or your friends on the floor or the other sofa. Of course, it’s when you think about Haechan looking over from the kitchen that your body buzzes a little more extremely. You imagine him looking this way and seeing the way that you’re leaning your head on Renjun’s shoulder now, staring at the movie playing on the screen without really seeing it; him noticing Renjun’s hand disappearing beneath your blanket, noticing your leg draped over Renjun’s, noticing the way that you’re both moving your arms slightly, both a little flushed in the face, lips parted and eyes glazed.

It’s that thought of Haechan looking over, seeing everything and knowing what you’re doing, him getting hard and watching because he’s a pervert like that. That is what makes you cum around Renjun’s fingers. Your thighs snap shut around his hand, and it’s only by nearly biting through your lip and through sheer will that you keep from moaning.

Renjun keeps his fingers moving, stroking that soft spot inside you that makes your belly tingle even more. You can feel the way that your pussy is dripping around his fingers, and as soon as your thighs relax around his hand, Renjun slides his hand out of your pants, out from beneath the blanket.

His fingers shine with your wetness, and when he pulls his fingers apart, you can see your stickiness there. And then Renjun brings his fingers up to his lips. He makes direct eye contact with you as he licks his fingers, then as he stuffs them into his mouth to clean them up. You’ve halfway forgotten that you’re meant to be jerking him off as well, but his free hand drops down to cover yours on his cock, getting your hand moving again while he sucks the taste of you from his fingers.

And just like that, Renjun cums too. You can only just barely hear the sound of a slight groan escaping from around his fingers. His cum pulses sticky and warm over your hand, dripping down your fingers, slicking your palm as you smear it around his leaking tip.

Your hand is still around his cock when you lift your head from Renjun’s shoulder to touch your lips to his ear so you can whisper, “Next time, I want to ride you. Okay? Right here, like this.”

Renjun visibly swallows, his throat bobbing. “I don’t know about that.”

He reaches down, pulling your hand away from his cock, out from beneath the blanket. He doesn’t look at you, and it’s not like you really have feelings for Renjun or that you’re super attracted to him, but his rejection still stings a bit. He quickly stuffs his cock back into his pants, stands up, and heads upstairs.

Renjun doesn’t come back.

You wipe your hand clean on the back of the little throw pillow tucked on your end of the sofa. You lay down over Renjun’s abandoned spot, stretch your feet out into YangYang’s lap, which makes him frown over at you slightly. He doesn’t move your feet though, so you lay your head on the throw pillow that you just wiped Renjun’s cum on the back of, and you watch the movie.

The two girls on the floor say that they’ve got to leave when that movie ends. Mark puts on the sequel to the movie you’d just watched. Still Renjun doesn’t return. Still Haechan and Jeno study in the kitchen, conversing in low voices. Halfway through that movie, the girl sitting with Mark falls asleep, and when he carefully lifts her into his arms to carry her upstairs to his bedroom, you remember that they started officially dating recently.

YangYang moves over to the empty loveseat now that it’s empty, giving you the entire sofa to stretch out on. You fall asleep before this movie even ends, replaying the fun with Renjun, but wishing too that someday you’ll be able to sit on the sofa surrounded by friends with someone’s cock buried inside you, all of your friends none the wiser.

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a/n: she's a little bit of an experimenting exhibitionist lol, just as much a pervert as Haechan honestly, though I don't think she realizes it yet. As I said a while back when I was posting about my writing process with this series, this is definitely a slowburn that gets there eventually, like obviously if she's trying to start something with xiaojun and then with renjun it might take a minute for that burn to really get going between her and haechan, but hang in there for the ride! I hope you enjoy it!

#haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #lee haechan

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purplelupins · 2 years

Text

Sugar, Sugar

|The Black Phone|

Part I Part II

Grabber/Albert x fem!reader

Summery: Starting your summer job between college semesters seemed easy at first. Until you started looking at your boss differently and he knows.

MINORS DNI

Warnings: swearing, age gap, smut, hair pulling, name calling(bunny, naughty/good girl, and sir) rough sex, power imbalance, possessiveness, arm/hand kink

Note: thank you to @theroadreader for this idea! I hope you like it 🤍 (also I think the credit for the hardware store headcannon goes to @darling-disastrous )

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Denver in the summer was always beautiful. The gentle glow brought on by the sun hitting the mountains, and the blooming flowers. People seemed to smile brighter too. Perhaps it was because the promise of ice cream and picnics were on the horizon, or maybe just the warmer weather.

However, that Monday morning on May 8th 1978, there was no warm sun in the sky. It was a freak cold day in the middle of a dry spell, and to make matters worse, it was your first day of work.

You had been hired just last week to work for the local hardware store as a summer job. It wasn’t great, but it payed fairly well, and it wasn’t far from your parent’s house so you made it work. In the long run, it was a great deal; you could stay with your family for free while saving up for college in the fall. It was a win win.

You checked your wrist watch and walked a little faster when you saw the time. You didn’t want to be late for your first day- you hadn’t even met the manager yet and didn’t want to make a bad impression.

The shop came into view, and you strode up to the door and quickly rapped on it as you pulled your jacket closer. You were glad you had packed pants with you when you came to stay with your folks, otherwise you would have caught cold by now.

A minute passed, then the door swung open and you nearly leapt inside. You looked up at the person who had opened the door, and froze for a full second as you were struck speechless. It was his bright blue eyes that struck you first.

“You alright?” He had said with a light laugh that both set you at ease and sent you into a spiral of embarrassment.

“N-no I’m so sorry sir. I’m y/n l/n I’m starting work today?” You held out your hand and gave him a smile. You pretended that you weren’t completely transfixed by his gaze and forced yourself to blink at a normal rate. You knew you were blushing even in the cold.

“Right, John told me. Come on in.” He stood aside for you and you hurried past him, “My name’s Albert Shaw. I’m the manager. You can just call me Al if you want, no need for ‘sir’.” He said gently. He seemed tired, but sweet in a quiet way.

You had to admit you had a soft spot for the older man already.

For the rest of that first day, you followed him everywhere and listened to each thing he told you about the shop. You thought you heard one of the other workers, Bradley, whisper something about you being a puppy, but you ignored it. You weren’t the biggest fan of the other three you worked with - Sally, Bradley and Chris. You could tell they got on Albert’s nerves a great deal, though he did his best to not yell. Almost instantly, you could also tell that they were not the biggest fans of Albert either.

Sure he seemed a little quirky and quiet with his funny little laughs and jokes here and there, but you were like that too. You kept to yourself and were often the odd man out, so you understood him well. He didn’t leer or speak to your co-workers badly, so you decided to take whatever your co-workers said with a grain of salt.

Besides, you liked his voice. It was soft and friendly, and he tilted his head to the side a little when he spoke.

You liked him immediately.

Not a week into working with him, you had found yourself almost looking after him everyday. You had noticed he often didn’t bring lunch, and so you always included an extra portion just in case. Of course you never made a big scene of it, just leaving a sandwich and some snacks on his desk when he would be out in the shop. But he knew it was you. He would always send you a small, shy smile and a nod.

Then you started to notice the bruises and scratches on his arms. He had brushed it off by telling you about his large dog, Sampson, and that had been enough for you. You knew he was a big boy and could take care of himself, but you still worried.

Ever since he had mentioned Sampson, you would bring him a small bag of treats for him on Fridays. Albert had insisted you didn’t bother, but you could tell he was alone, and insisted harder.

“Albert if you don’t take these and give them to that pup I’m going to follow you home and give them to him myself.” You almost stamped your foot. Almost.

He stared back at you, and held his hand out for the small bag and you grinned triumphantly as you left his office.

He watched you go, and shook his head as terrible thoughts began to circulate. What if he did deny them…what if she did follow him? A smirk slowly made its way onto his face, but he batted those thoughts away.

Not her.

As the heat began to pick up over the weeks, you noticed how much quieter Albert had become. You noticed how he seemed paler too. When he came out onto the sales floor to check for an item, you quickly found him and placed your hand on his arm.

“Albert?” You asked gently, hoping to not distract him.

He turned to you, grabbing the proper set of nails he needed. “Everything alright, honey?” He asked.

You nodded, “Oh yeah, I just wanted to talk to you quickly, if that’s alright ?” You whispered.

He stare at you for a moment and swallowed his thoughts. Albert nodded and lead you to the back to speak privately. He leaned back against the counter there and crossed his arms. “What’s going on?” He asked, tilting his head.

“I hope it’s alright, but I noticed that…this sounds so stupid, but I noticed that you looked a little pale, and I made you some of my grandma’s soup?” You reached for your bag and pulled out a thermos, “It does wonders. It’s from 1903 so it must pack a punch somehow.” You said kindly, your eyes bright.

He breathed out a laugh and shook his head. “I hope you’re not this sweet to everyone.” He said, taking the container.

“No…most people think I’m strange. That’s what happens when you don’t look like everyone else and don’t date every boy you see.” You said with a tight smile.

“Good. Because if you go ‘round making soup for everyone who’s sick, then I won’t feel so special.” He teased you. You felt your cheeks and neck heat up and you looked down.

“Well…I hope you like it. If you bring me the thermos tomorrow I’ll give you some more.” You mumbled, playing with the uniform shirt you wore.

“I’ll be sure to do that, honey.” He smiled softly.

You flicked your eyes up to his, still not looking him in the eye completely. “Okay…good. I’m…um…I’ll get back to work.” You scurried back out past the cash counter, ignoring the stare you got from Sally and began organizing the shelves again. Sally had been watching your little interactions, and loved to tease you, but that day, you just wanted to be nice and get through your shift.

The following day, Sally cornered you to confront you about the odd behaviour between the two of you.

“Why do you get all funny when Al calls you honey?” She asked bluntly. It was true. The endearment he had chosen for you always made you swoon a little, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t what you’re talking about…” You murmured back, trying to continue with restocking the shelves of deck wax.

Sally leaned a little closer than you liked.

“Yes you sure as hell do. Even Brad noticed it, and he doesn’t notice when I cut my hair, so that’s sayin’ somethin’…”she crossed her arms and leaned against the shelf, “…besides, Al’s a bit…funny don’t you think?”

You grinned gently. “He is a little, isn’t he?”

Sally rolled her eyes, “No stupid, I mean he’s a bit weird.” She whispered the last word.

You whipped your head to the other girl with a stern look on your face, “No he’s not. He’s sweet-“

“Sally.”

Both of you jumped and turned your heads to the other end of the aisle. Albert stood there with a clipboard in hand, and that line between his brows more pronounced as he stared down the your coworker. “Get back to the register. I don’t pay you to bother good employees.” He said firmly.

You had kept your head down, staring at the can in your hands before placing it on the shelf. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sally sulk off and you felt more than saw Albert take a few steps towards you.

“She wasn’t bothering you too much, was she?” He had asked you, glancing down at an inventory paper.

“N-no not really. She just-“ You sucked in a breath as you spoke, and looked over at the older man who was already looking at you, “-never mind. I’m just going to finish these then I’ll come help at the counter.” You bit your inner lip and focused back on stocking the shelves.

“Take your time, honey.” He said gently, then disappeared down another aisle. You felt your heart beating aggressively, and had to take deep breaths to calm it.

“Albert?”

The older man rose his gaze up to the doorway to his office. He knew it was you. He knew that sweet little voice anywhere. He knew you would round the corner any second, and just as he thought, you did. You came to stand in the open doorframe, resting your hand there to lean inside. You glanced at his face for a moment, but looked away bashfully.

“Albert, could I borrow you for just a second? I wouldn’t bother you but Chris is on break, Brad is…busy and Sally is…busy too.” You asked.

He could see you biting the inside of your cheek.

You were so fucking cute.

You weren’t like the other girls in Denver, especially when it came to summer. He had to constantly remind Sally to abide by the dress code, and rolled his eyes at what they were calling “summer fashion” that year. He swore the standard for clothing got smaller and smaller each year.

But not you.

No.

You weren’t whorish like them.

You wore the company t-shirt, and your hemlines never came more than an inch or two above your knee; if you wore pants, they would end at a minimum of your ankle. He noticed you liked cardigans, too. One shoulder would often hang off around halfway through your shift from moving so much.

You had a hard time looking him in the eye too, he noticed. He noticed everything. Even when you thought no one was looking and you would zone out while trying to put away an item, he was looking at you.

He couldn’t help it. You were so sweet, and caring. You loved being around him and he knew that by how widely you would grin when you would see him.

He wanted to tell you what you did to him. He wanted to tell you how he had to sit in his office every other hour to adjust himself in his pants after being around you too long.

But he couldn’t tell you. More importantly, he didn’t know how.

“Sure thing, y/n. Boxes again?” He said, laying his pen down, and standing to his full height. Your cheeks heated up and you nodded.

“How did you know?” You asked teasingly. You often had to ask for his help when it came to retrieving items higher up. While you could reach them, they were always heavier than they looked, and you had learned your lesson when you almost fell backwards with a box in hand. Albert had caught you just in time, and had teased you about it ever since. Not that you minded.

“Oh…a lucky guess.” He said, walking closely behind you.

“I think you can hear my thoughts.” You stated in a matter-of-fact way.

He laughed lightly, “Which box is ruining your day, honey?” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the shelf you stopped at.

You pointed to the box just out of reach at the top of the stock shelf.If you were honest, you didn’t need that box. Not really. There was just one item in it that needed restocking but it could have waited.

Albert reached up and gripped the edge and dragged the cardboard closer until it dropped into his arms. But you were barely paying attention.

Your eyes were tranfixed on his muscles that were only cheekily highlighted by that damn work t-shirt he had started wearing. He usually just had to have a shirt and name tag as manager, but for some cursed reason, those long sleeved shirts turned into short sleeves not long after you started working there.

His veins sloped out along the tendons and muscles as he moved, and his large hands gripped the box fiercely. When he set the box down on the work shelf in the back, he let out a soft grunt and sighed as he ran his hand through his long hair.

You held your breath to keep from whimpering, and looked away quickly out of fear of him seeing you staring. But not quick enough; he shot you a smirk as he positioned the box properly for you to open, and rested his arm on it. “Any other boxes?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

You shook head quickly. “Nope that’s it. Thanks Albert.” You got busy with finding a knife to cut it open.

“Alright.” He murmured and released the cardboard before walking back to his office. As soon as he was out of sight, you sighed and punched the box slightly out of frustration.

“Thaaaanks Albeeert.” Came the sickly sweet, sing-songy voice of your coworker from behind the cash counter just through the doorway. You huffed and got to work.

“Lighten up, god.” Sally sighed, and hopped up on the counter next to you. “Can’t you take a joke?”

You stared at her blankly as you fished out the piping that needed restocking.

“Whatever…you know he likes you right? You know you get the best schedule out of all of us. I guess it does pay to be sucking your boss’s cock, huh?” She hissed, leaning closer to you. You snapped your head to her and stared, appalled.

“Sally don’t say stuff like-“ you stared.

“Aww like what? The truth? I bet he loves having a young little thing like you at his disposal. I bet he likes it too, huh? Does he do it at his desk? Bet he cums down your throat-“

“Sally!” You cried, slamming the piping down on the counter hard enough to made a loud noise. The girl jumped at the outburst of her tame coworker. “You are disgusting. Albert is a very nice man, and I like him very much. Even if you don’t think so, give him some respect.” You spat and strode away from her, who was still sitting there in awe, and walked to Albert’s office. You knocked gently on the door and when he called you in, you couldn’t look him in the eye.

But he had already heard everything.

“Albert I’m sorry but I think I need to go home.” You said, trying to hold back tears.

The older man was staring up at you, but slowly stood and walked to where you were leaning against the door. “Are you alright?” Came his gentle voice that only made your heart hurt more.

How could Sally be so cruel?

“Yep. I’m just not feeling well…don’t want to get anyone sick.” You said, keeping it together. But then he placed a finger under your chin and forced your eyes to his. You sucked in a shaky breath.

“Be a good girl and get some rest, Hm?” He whispered.

At his words, your brain stopped working, and all you could do was nod. “Yes sir.” You murmured.

It was the only thing you could think of.

He sucked in a breath, and clenched his fist tightly, then lowered his finger from your chin.

“Have a good afternoon Albert.” Your voice was airy and barely sounded like you at all as you grabbed your purse and scurried out the back door.

He stared after you. It had taken every ounce of his control to not fulfill that vile girl’s imagination. To not pull you into his office and lock the door. To not sit at his desk and tell you to get on your knees. To not have you suck on him as he pulled your hair.

Albert slammed his office door shut, and adjusted himself in his pants. He threw himself back into his chair, and rested his head in his hands.

Why did she have to be so sweet?

Why couldn’t you too be vile and difficult? At least that way he could ignore you.

But no, you had to be this little ray of sunshine.

You had to be a-fucking-dorable.

On your way home, you barely even registered where you were going. It wasn’t until you were on the steps to tour parents house that you realised you had indeed made it home.

With the constant harassment from your coworkers, it was almost worth it to just quit and find another job to help save for college.

Almost.

You sighed and threw your bag onto your bed then threw yourself onto it. You groaned into the mattress.

You hated how much you liked your boss.

Why did he gave to be so welcoming to you, and courteous and funny and silly and gentle.

So gentle.

He had stood up for you on more than one occasion too, which you had deeply appreciated. It hadn’t been a big deal either, just a customer that was angry about an order not being in. He had come from the back after hearing the man almost cussing you out, and was by your side in an instant. Albert’s hand had rested on your shoulder in a supportive gesture, and you had revelled in having him touch you. His words had been so firm with the other man, and you had watched him like a puppy. He stood beside you until the man had left, and asked if you were alright immediately. You had nodded and cracked a small smile before he had returned to his work.

You knew it was wrong, especially with him being so much older, and your superior. But regardless, something about him made you feel something you never had before.

The next day you were on a closing shift, and decided to sleep in until you absolutely needed to wake up. By the time afternoon hit, you had your hair tied back, work shirt on and a skirt. It was evidently the hottest day of the summer so far according to the radio, and while you weren’t a fan of shorter skirts, you knew it would save you that day to have an extra breeze.

You slipped on your sneakers, and pulled your purse over your shoulder then began to walk into town. You enjoyed the hot sun beating down, especially since it brought out the kids of the neighbourhood. You loved seeing their smiles and carefree nature- even with the strange disappearances on the rise.

By the time you reached the shop, you were starting to sweat. You ran a little quicker down the back alley and knocked to by let in. Chris opened the door, and you gave him a polite nod. “Thanks.” You said quietly and pushed past him into the cooler back room.

That day, you were glad your shift only overlapped with Sally and Brad’s for an hour. You didn’t have the patience to deal with either of them, and so you stuck to helping customers and didn’t even turn your head when you heard your coworkers leave.

Hours passed, then before you knew it, it was 5 pm, and you were finished up with your last customer. You knew Albert was in the back, but you didn’t need him for closing up. You turned over the open sign to closed, and locked the door, then quietly organized the counter, and began counting the till and matching up the receipts.

Your heart grew a little sad when you realised you hadn’t seen Albert once all day. You sighed and finished up, then placed the cash in an envelope and labelled it accordingly, took out the receipts, and walked to Albert’s office.

You saw the light on under the door, and knocked gently. “Albert? I finished closing up- oh.” You were stopped when the door swung open and the older man was standing right there. “-sorry. Um…this is the total from today. I’m just going to go clean up.” You murmured, placing the envelop in his hand. You tried to not take notice of it’s size.

“I didn’t see you today. Were you hiding?” He teased you as you took a step away, looking over the recipes beside the cash.

Your eyes went wide.

“No I wasn’t! I just…” you trailed off which caught his attention, “…I dunno. I’ve been feeling off since yesterday.”

He nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles there. “I’ll be there in a second, alright?”

You nodded and walked off quickly.

In an attempt to stay normal, you began placing the products back in their orderly places. Once you were halfway through, you stretched up onto your toes to reach the top shelf. You were so focused that you didn’t even notice Albert round the aisle and freeze until he cleared his throat. You stumbled a little in surprise and gasped. “D-didn’t see you there, sorry.” You said.

His fist clenched and un clenched, which you noticed.

He didn’t say anything before he stormed off suddenly into the back. You watched in horror as Albert’s back seemed tense- you had never seen him like that, especially not with you. Had you done something wrong? Then you remembered the shortness of your skirt that day, and felt your stomach drop. He was angry.

“Albert?” You called to him. When he didn’t answer, you followed him towards the back room, “A-Albert? Is something wrong? Did I do-“ you were cut off as soon as you walked towards his office. Albert was hunched over slightly with his one hand on the wall and his other on the outside of his pants, adjusting himself.

You gasped and looked away, walking back towards the door leading to the front of store. Just as you went to pass the work counter, you were stopped dead in your tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Came Albert’s voice behind you. But it wasn’t the usual tone you were used to. It wasn’t gentle. It was rough.

You turned back to his approaching form and wrung your hands. “I-I’m so sorry sir. I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to-“

“To what? Hm? Didn’t mean to what, bunny?” He said mockingly. Then he was standing right in front of you and caged you against the counter. “Cat got your tongue, hmm?”

You stared up at him wide eyed, “I-I…”

“You didn’t mean to do this, Hm?” He took your hand and brought it towards him until your little hand was against his straining hard cock. “You feel that, bunny? This is what you fucking do to me every. Single. Day.” He growled, rubbing himself against your hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t know…?” You whimpered.

“Oh you didn’t know? Poor little bunny didn’t know that she makes her boss want to stuff her every day?” He rasped, and took your hand away. Your breaths were heavy, and he pulled you to him, capturing your lips in his. You were still for a moment, and he began to doubt everything. Anger began to bubble inside him, but it was shut off when he felt your sweet lips open up to his, and he could taste you. He slipped his tongue inside you, and groaned at how soft you were.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and Albert slipped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up onto the counter. You gasped in surprise when his hands didn’t move from your legs. In fact he only moved them higher. Your heart was pounding and you could barely think. As you pulled away for air, his arm caught your eye; with them touching you, your mind went fuzzy. You followed his forearm to his wrist then to where his hand was as it disappeared under your skirt.

“Is there something you want to tell me bunny? Hm? It’s not polite to stare.” He growled into your ear.

You blinked and looked away out of embarrassment.

“I-I’ve had a crush on you since we met…a-and I like your arms.” You managed to say.

“Bunny likes my arms.” He mocked you.

You didn’t care. You nodded.

“Is that all?” He purred, leaning closer to your neck.

You shook your head. “Your eyes and your…all of you.” You admitted, blushing as you lost your words.

“You sure about that, little bunny?” He kissed up your neck.

“Uh huh…” You breathed out, a shiver running up and down your spine.

“So if I asked you you’d suck my cock at my desk?” His filthy words filled your ears and you were certain you would have an aneurysm.

Then you remembered, and gasped, pulling away mortified. “You heard her?”

He arched a brow at you.

“Of course I heard her,” he reached under your skirt and gripped your panties before almost ripping them off, “I heard you trying to defend me too. Every time.”

Your entire face was ablaze.

“I-well I just d-didn’t want anyone to- to say things like that about you.” You stuttered out and his large, veiny hand went back under your skirt to your inner thigh.

“No? You were looking after me, were you? Being such a good girl.” He cooed, returning to your neck.

“Yes-“ your words died on your tongue when his thumb swiped against your throbbing clit. Your mouth hung open. Sure you had touched yourself, or tried to, and had been touched, but you had never felt that.

“Aww did bunny get all stupid with just one touch?” He tsked her condescendingly.

You might have cared if you weren’t drunk on him, but you were. Of course you had daydreamed about the older man pulling you into his office, or driving you home but actually taking you to his house. But having him there breathing the same air was so much better than your imagination.

“P-please!” You squeaked as he traced your outer lips.

“Yeah? Did you want something like…” he slipped a long thick finger inside you and curled it. You threw your head back and gripped his shoulders like a vice.

“F-fuck!” You gasped as he pumped his finger inside you.

His eyes snapped to yours at the swearword- he had never heard you curse before. “I’ve barely touched you, silly. What am I gonna do with you?” He murmured condescendingly.

Then he got an idea.

“Don’t move.” He rasped and pulled himself from you before bending down to the drawers of the counter and found what he was looking for. “Turn.”

You didn’t even have the head to ask why, so you turned as best as you could. He grabbed your arms and pulled them behind your back before looping the rope he had found around your wrists. He knew having to demonstrate different knots would come in handy one day, and he supposed that to tie up his favourite little employee so he could fuck her silly was the reason he needed.

He almost came right there just by having you so compliant as he tied you up. Not a question or worried look. You trusted him so much.

Silly girl.

“There. Turn back to me. Atta girl.” He rasped, helping you turn back to back him. Your eyes stared right back into to his, and he soaked it up. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and held your hip with one hand while he other one was busy with his belt. You watched him closely, your eyes heavy and lips parted.

Even with you so delirious for him, you were adorable.

He couldn’t wait to corrupt you. Make you his. He wondered if he could keep you. Lock you in his basement and keep you to himself. All his.

His pants came apart, and you watched as he pushed them and his underwear down. He took no time in placing the tip of his cock at your slick entrance. He needed to have you.

“Please sir-“ You gasped, your eyes pleading with him.

Without another word, he began to sink inside you. You cried out and arched your back against the wall behind the counter. That sound was the best noise he had heard in a long time. You enveloped his cock and drew him in deeper until his hips were flush with yours.

“Fuck!” He growled, and thrust shallowly a few times.

Your panting and whimpering was music to his ears. Albert wished he could record them and listen to them at night.

“That’s it…that’s it…” he rasped. It was barely even understandable. You took him so well, hooking your thighs over his hips and he held you tightly. You knew there would be bruises. It was as if he thought the exact same thing as you, and one hand went to your hair and tugging your head up to him. He dipped his head down to your neck, and sucked and bit at the tender skin there. He felt you clench around him and he chuckled roughly into your neck.

“You want me to mark you don’t you, naughty girl? You want this whole fucking town to know who you belong to.” His breath was hot against your skin, and you could barely remember how to talk, so you nodded.

He latched onto a spot where he knew you couldn’t hide it with your hair or a shirt, and sucked until a deep purple mark was left behind. As he pulled away and inspected his work, something in him snapped. His hand gripped your hair hard, and he held you firmly as he set a punishing pace.

Your brows pinched as you were stretched open over and over. You were certain his cock was hitting your cervix each time. You knew you wouldn’t be able to walk.

Then, just as you started to feel yourself tighten and warm up, he pulled you off the counter and spun you around and bent you over so your cheek was against it. He slipped back inside you far too easily, and continued his pace.

“Pl-please- I-“ you gasped out. But he already knew what you wanted.

“You want to come don’t you?” He growled. You had no idea he could make such a sound.

You nodded as best as you could.

“I’m going to make you come…that’s it. “ he felt you tighten with each thrust. “Only I make you come, you understand?” He rasped. “Say it!“ he growled, pulling your hair even tighter.

“O-only you make-make me come!” You stuttered, feeling liquid fire in your veins.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice became more and more rough with each thrust, and finally, he felt you let go. You gripped him like a vice and squeezed him so hard he came just seconds after. His hot, thick cum coated your insides and he continued to rut into you until you whimpered. But he didn’t care.

You were his.

As he pulled from you, he watched his cum drip from your puffy lips, and he ran his finger through it and held it to your mouth. “Open up bunny.” He said gently.

You did so obediently, and sucked on his thumb until it was clean. You slowly stood up, breathing heavily. Once he had righted himself, he slowly untied your wrists, and you kissed his face once you were free. He inspected his work on your neck, and checked your wrists. They were red and raw. There was no hiding that.

Your neck was a masterpiece. “Don’t you dare cover those.” He murmured, pointing to the bruises on your neck.

You nodded, eyes hazy and your cheek red from being pressed against the counter. “Okay.” You whispered.

He picked up the panties he had ripped from you and tucked them into his pocket, and his sweet girl just stared at him serenely. “Am I gonna have to walk you home, bunny?” He cooed to you as you swayed. He ran a hand through your hair, and stroked your cheek. He felt you melt into his touch.

“I-I’ll be okay… I think.” You murmured.

He smirked and reached behind you to get a pen and paper. “This is my phone number. You be a good girl and call me when you get home, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Atta girl. You’re done for the day, you head home.” He murmured. His voice returned to that light soft voice you knew.

You nodded again and folded the paper, took your purse, and just as you were about to leave, you walked back to him and kissed him one more time. Then, you disappeared out the back door into the evening air.

A part of him didn’t want to let you go. A large part. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you home with him.

But his basement was occupied.

So no.

Not yet.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255

@funandfancyfree

#the grabber x reader #the grabber #albert shaw #the black phone 2022 #the black phone #slasher horror #slasher x reader #ethan hawke

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callsign-joyride · 10 months

Note

For SOS..#19 with Bob..beach sex after hangman makes “baby on board virgin Bob” joke

Like a Virgin | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: An insulting joke turns into you and Bob sneaking off/

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), public sex, unprotected p in v, mentions of a threesome

Prompt: "Kiss me."

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

You and Bob had been dating for a few months, and you were pretty much in love with each other. Trivia nights and karaoke at The Hard Deck let you meet the Dagger Squad, and you had taken to close friendships with Phoenix and Rooster in particular, but you were on fairly good terms with everyone. You were about to lay on the couch and order a pizza when Bob called. It was kind of strange, considering he never really called around dinner, but you didn’t mind. When you answered, he asked what you were up to.

“Just about to order a pizza and watch a few movies, why?”

“Okay. I know it’s last minute but we’re having a cookout and bonfire at the beach. D’you wanna come? Rooster’s gonna grill.”

“Sure! What time?”

“Around six. I can pick you up, if you want. We’ll be behind The Hard Deck.”

“Sure, that sounds good. Okay, I’ll start getting ready. See you in a bit.”

It took a few minutes for you to get a bag ready for the beach and Bob came to pick you up closer to six. You waved to Phoenix as she was passing a ball back and forth with Fanboy. The burgers that Rooster made were delicious, and you went into The Hard Deck with Phoenix and Bob to get drinks for everyone. Payback brought fireworks and everyone messed with those until late into the evening.

“Poor baby on board here is pushing thirty and still a virgin,” a very drunk Hangman said. You glanced over at Bob and saw him put his head in his hands. A beat of silence passed over the group before Hangman cleared his throat and said, “That was supposed to be a joke,”.

“Who wants to get in the water?” Rooster asked. A chorus of yeses was heard and you got up, taking Bob’s hand and heading to the water. Of course, you knew that Hangman’s attempts at jokes usually leaned more towards cruelty than anything else. But Bob seemed more quiet than he usually was while the two of you swam to a cove.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked with your arms wrapped around Bob’s neck.

“Not really much to talk about. I’m the butt of every joke because I’m quiet. Pretty much all there is to it. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t made a woman cum in like five years. Maybe I should’ve used that as a comeback, I don’t know.”

In the distance, you could hear Phoenix shrieking about Rooster throwing her in the water.

“We could prove him wrong, y’know?” You asked.

“Who, Hangman?”

You hummed a yes before palming Bob through his swim trunks. He groaned and started to grind himself into you. The water was about four feet deep, so no one would be able to see what you were doing to Bob if they swam by.

“Kiss me,” he said. You obliged and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He tightly wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you as you wrapped your legs around him. You broke apart for air and giggled as Bob started to walk further into the cove with you in his arms. He leaned against the wall so that your back wouldn’t get scratched up from the rocks. You let out a small moan as you felt him grind his bulge against you.

Your legs were tightly wrapped around him as he pulled his swimtrunks down and moved your swimsuit bottoms to the side. The rush of the waves and the current was almost enough to cover up the noises that you were making as Bob ran his hand through your folds.

“Always ready for me,” he said. You moaned into his ear as he slowly slid his dick inside of you. He did most of the work as you kept your legs wrapped around him and he moved you up and down on his cock. You weren’t paying attention as the faint laughter from the rest of the group died down, and you definitely weren’t paying attention when Hangman swam up to the cove.

“What are you guys - oh,” he said. You turned your head at his presence and glared at him. Bob was sill pumping in and out of you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You gonna join us or just watch?” Bob asked. You were a moaning mess as Bob pounded into you, otherwise you would’ve laughed.

“I think I’m good, man. Was just gonna tell you that we’re headed back to shore. God, I need a drink.”

Hangman swam away and Bob was relentless as he pounded into you and harshly rubbed your clit to get you off faster. You moaned into his mouth as you came and he slowed down before pulling out of you and setting you down.

“You didn’t-,”

“It’s okay. Let’s get home.”

Everyone was staring when you and Bob got back to the shore, and you let out a small chuckle as Bob walked with you to the rest of the group. Everyone was starting to put things away and decide who was going to take the leftover alcohol. You put a few seltzers in the back of Bob’s car and said goodnight to everyone before he took you home.’

“Can you pull over?” You asked after a few songs on the radio played.

“Yeah…”

You were still close to the beach so there was some sand on the side of the road as he pulled over. As soon as he looked at you, you reached into his swim trunks and pulled his semi hard cock out.

“You really don’t have to - oh fuck,” he said as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. He leaned his head back and groaned as you hollowed your cheeks around him and he came in your mouth. You looked into his eyes as you swallowed his spend and leaned up to kiss him. Heat was rushing up his chest and he tucked himself back into his swim trunks before starting the car again. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and gave you a hug.

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep. I don’t want you tired at work tomorrow.”

You give him a quick kiss before heading inside and locking the door behind you. He stayed true to his word and texted you when he got home, joking that he wanted to have a threesome with Hangman being the third person. Of course, you knew that he was joking, but you weren’t opposed to the idea as you started to type a long message to him, but you deleted it before hitting send.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

#robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #callsign joyride's summer of smut

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angryschnauzer · 1 year

Text

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 6

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Story Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing, NSFW, 18+, Smut, Fingering, Grinding, Hot Tub Frolics, Handjob, Titty Sucking, Nudity.

Chapter 6 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Angst, talk of abusive past relationship

Wordcount: 2222

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5,

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 6

Sy had a spring in his step as he returned to his truck, the box from Antonios tucked under his arm and he was thankful he’d left Akia at home for this trip as she would be happy snuffling around in the yard on the long tether he’d installed. He made sure the box was carefully wedged into the passenger side footwell before circling the truck and climbing in, whistling a happy tune as he started the truck and backed out of the space. He was in his own little world and didn’t see his cousin Walter wave to him or hear him call out his name.

The drive to your place was fairly short, and as he waited at stop signs and went in turn he mulled over in his head all the things he was going to tell you and share the good news. When he finally reached your house he pulled onto the driveway and smiled when he saw you in the garden, hanging laundry on the line so it billowed in the breeze, that same breeze making the hem of your summer dress flip and dance, revealing your soft thighs and the curve of your ass. He didn’t even realise he’d done it but you heard the low growl of appreciation he’d let out as he stood near your porch.

“Sy!” you called, abandoning the remaining laundry in the hamper and running across the lawn to him. He wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you to him, holding the box out of the way as you kissed. When you finally pulled apart you rested your hands on his chest;

“To what do I owe this honour of a surprise visit?”

“Just been to Antonios” he said with a grin, lifting the box a little.

“Oh this sounds like good news… what’s in the box?”

Sy smirked;

“Something juicy and round i have to pour my honey over and sprinkle with nuts”

Raising your eyebrows you pretended to be curious whilst trying not to giggle, instead you let out a small shriek as Sy wrapped an arm around you, cupping your ass before hoisting you up onto his hip and you wrapped your legs around his waist; “I’ll show you inside”

In the cool shade of the cottage he set you down on the old wooden surface of your kitchen table, his arm never leaving your back as he stood between your legs. That arm slid up your back and to the back of your neck, curling in your hair as he gently pulled your head back so he could kiss you. At some point he must have set the box down as you felt his other hand cup your cheek, before his fingertips softly brushed over the top of your chest, and he all out grabbed a handful, grunting into your mouth. Breaking the kiss you pressed your forehead to his;

“I so want your mouth on me but i also want to know what happened at Antonio’s”

Sy smirked;

“I guess i could get you started with my fingers”

With a low growl he pushed your legs further apart, his big hand sliding beneath the skirt of your dress and cupping your pussy in his palm;

“Already so warm and wet for me” he muttered as he pulled the soft cotton to one side and his thick fingers tenderly dragged through your folds; “The meeting was incredible… the main man himself agreed that i have a by far superior product”

“I can vouch for that” you interrupted, grinning as you confidently cupped Sy through his jeans, enjoying the feet of his hardness growing beneath the denim.

“As i was saying…” he cut in as he slid two thick fingers into you; “With the onset of summer and customers wanting lighter flavours, he’s placed a standing order for twelve jars weekly for the next three months, to be reviewed at that point”

“That’s amazing!”

“Which part?” he grinned; “The honey order or what I'm doing to your honey pot?” crooking his fingers just right as he found that spot deep inside that made you see stars.

“Both! BOTH!”

“That’s my good girl,” Sy muttered.

Just as you were about to cum he pulled his fingers away, you were about to complain but were cut off as you watched him get to his knees in front of you. Those ice blue eyes stared up at you when he reached both hands under your skirt to push it up, before pulling your panties down. Leaning back on the table you lifted your ass so he could get them off, his strong hands holding your thighs open as he gratuitously stared your pussy.

“Such a beautiful peach” he praised before pushing closer, his wide tongue licking a firm stripe through your petals. He grunted at your taste hit his tongue and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut as if it was the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted. His tongue worked magic against your clit, pulling you rapidly to the edge of an orgasm, before he pulled away;

“Hey!” you went to protest before you realised he was quickly pulling his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside before he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He dived right back in, this new position having you spread wider as he could control the angle of your thighs, this time his tongue was pushing into your velvet channel as he curled one hand around the top of your thigh to rub firm circles against your clit. He was like a man starved; his mouth never leaving you and for a second you wondered if he would need to come up for air, but as the pleasure built in your body your mind went blank and you forgot of Sy’s need for oxygen.

Your hands reached for something to grip onto, your fingertips sliding on the wood of the table before you reached down and ran your fingers through Sy’s short cropped hair, silky to touch and just long enough to curl and hold onto. His grip on your thighs got tighter as he could feel your orgasm approaching, never relenting with his ministrations until you came with a cry, your legs shaking as they tightened around his head.

“Oh Sy…Sy…” you praised, laying on the kitchen table as he pressed tender kisses to your inner thighs. As your mouth was currently disconnected from your mind you kept whispering his name, until your brain connected with its auditory sensors and realised you could hear a light tapping on the glass window of the old door to the back yard; “Sy…” your mind caught up with what you were seeing; “Walter…”

Sy stopped and immediately popped his head up;

“Walter? What the…?”

You suddenly realised the Sheriff was standing at the door, a shocked look on his face as he saw you and his cousin in the positions you were. Your brain caught up and you hastily pushed your dress down as you squeaked and pointed at the door, Sy looking to the door and his face darkened; “What the fuck does he want?” he grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet and crossed the room in three strides, yanking the door open;

“Walt…”

The burly Sheriff held his hands up, the file he was holding hitting the door;

“Sy, i’m sorry. But this is important”

Sy nodded and went to step outside;

“Okay, we can talk in the yard”

But Walter didn’t move, instead he gripped the file with both hands and looked to you;

“Sy it’s not you i’m here to speak to”

A shiver ran down your spine as you saw the name on the file. With as much grace as you could muster you hopped off the table and tidied your skirt;

“Sheriff… Walter, please could you wait in the living room, i’ll be with you in a moment”

He nodded, waited for Sy to step aside before he quickly crossed the room and disappeared from view. Sy quickly came back to you, scooping his t-shirt from the floor;

“Is everything OK?”

You hadn’t realised you were hugging yourself, chewing nervously on your lip;

“I don’t know. It may be about the restraining order, that was the file he was holding”

Sy paused and blinked a few times before he shook his head as if trying to get his mind around something he hadn’t all the information for;

“Do I need to go?”

Shaking your head you pressed your hand to his chest, the skin warm to touch and a comfort;

“No, please stay. You deserve to know about my past”

With a sigh he nodded, turning his crumpled t-shirt in his hands before discovering the soft pink of your underwear, holding them out to you;

“Think these are yours” he said with a small smile.

It was tough but you matched his smile, and as the two of you silently redressed, your stomach flipped as it tightened with nerves. You didn’t want to leave what seemed like the comfort of your kitchen, but Walter had promised if he ever got an alert you’d be the first to know.

You sat on your couch, the photo gripped between your fingers. The still shot from a traffic cam at the state border on Interstate 94 was clear as day. Your blood ran cold.

“All deputies have been put on alert to look out for his car” Walter said quietly; “He told his parole officer he was heading to San Francisco when he had his final meeting a couple of weeks ago. I set the alert up at the borders and this is when he crossed from North Dakota into Montana. We’re all the way over the other side of the state, he could still just be taking this route coast to coast. I’ve reached out to the Butte City Police just for any alerts when he passes through to see if he heads south from there”

Walter’s words were not reassuring. You hadn’t realised you’d been nervously tapping your foot on the floor until Sy softly put his hand on your knee;

“Whatever you need Honey, i’m here” he paused; “But it would help if i knew what we were dealing with”

You took a deep breath. You were nervous, no, you were scared out of your mind to tell Sy, but he deserved to know. Nodding, you held the photo out;

“This is James. My… husband”

“Your… what?” Sy asked, cocking his head to one side, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Ex-husband” Walter added; “The Massachusetts courts granted the divorce without him present”

You nodded, turning to Sy and lifting your gaze to his. You could feel tears threatening to spill as you gathered the courage to speak;

“I…” you tried to continue but your words disappeared into a gurgle as tears started to flow, the memories too painful. You needed to get out of the room, to clear your mind. Standing you ran for the door, letting it slam shut behind you.

Sy looked from the door to Walter and back again;

“Could you please tell me what’s going on?”

Walter stood, pulling out his phone;

“I need to call her emergency contact”

He stood at the window as he started to make a call, handing Sy the file.

As Sy opened the battered brown folder his heart sank as he started to read the details. Page after page of background information, photographs of injuries, reports from First Responders and the ER Department. The final pages were details of the restraining order, of the change of last name for identity protection, and that her emergency contact was Tamara the veterinarian that Sy took Akia to for shots and flea treatments. Setting the file back down onto the coffee table he looked up at Walter who was standing silently by the window having finished his call;

“She’s standing out by the Lavender, looking out at the meadow… I’ve called Tamara, she’s on her way”

“I’m going out to see her”

“What are you going to say?”

Sy paused at the doorway;

“I don’t know. But i’m going to show her that i’m here for her”

The wind played over the long grasses in the meadow as you watched the dark clouds on the horizon building, a spring storm brewing to ruin the run of good weather. Heavy footsteps on the lawn brought your attention to the present, before you felt a pair of strong arms softly wrap around you, gently pulling you to rest your back on a firm chest. A bearded kiss pressed to the side of your head and Sy’s voice was quiet;

“Whatever you need, i’m here for you”

Turning you nodded, pressing your face into his chest, inhaling the scent of his aftershave and laundry detergent. You heard the tell tale squeal of Tamara’s car as it roared over the slight hill from town, the grinding of gravel as she pulled up abruptly at your cottage. Turning to Sy, you spoke with a quiet tone;

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead;

“Of course you can”

Chapter 7 >>>

#as sweet as honey #sy x reader #captain syverson #syverson #henry cavill

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 1 month

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His Princess

Pairing: Bang Chan x Gender neutral reader

Type: Ansgt? Fluff?

Word Count: ~960

Warnings: Mention of anxiety/panic attacks, use of Princess

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace. this was my first ever post on tumblr and it is glaringly obvious.

masterlist

You knew there was a chance he could be here. You haven’t seen him yet, but this is totally the type of event he would attend. You were here with some friends from work and you were already ready to leave. Lots of people all in one place really wasn’t your jam, especially now since he’s on your mind again. You haven’t thought about Christopher in a long time. A mutual decision to part ways once he started to gain success in his field was the reason you hadn’t seen him in years. You follow his social media so you have some sort of idea what he’s been up to these days but most of the time it’s too painful to look at, so you don’t. You were clearly still in love with him, but you refuse to let yourself wallow. He moved on and is doing great and you were happy for him. You’re not doing too bad yourself, just got a promotion at work and things seem to be looking up. Still no luck in the relationship department, but that’s to be expected when you’re not emotionally available. You were fairly certain your coworker, Adam, had feelings for you. He was nice enough, but you didn’t want to lead him on. He was standing here next to you now.

“Everything alright y/n?” He asked, hand on your shoulder. There was loud music coming from the main conference hall and there were plenty of people milling about around you in the lobby. People kept bumping into you on their way to wherever they were going and it was only making your anxiety worse.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You tell him, nodding. He doesn’t believe you. Your breathing has quickened and your wringing your hands. He knows that pressing the issue will only make things worse for you though, so he lets it go.

“Should we go find our seats?” Your other coworker asks over Adams shoulder. It was Summer. You liked Summer. Like the season she was named after, she was warm and full of sunshine. You nod at her and follow her and Adam toward the conference hall, weaving in and out of groups of people chatting and catching up before the event starts. You don’t notice him at first, your looking at your feet as you walk, but he notices you.

“Is that Chris?” Summer asks, to no one in particular. Your breath catches in your throat. You look up and see a group of eight men gathered together near the door to the conference hall. And the one closest to the door, and staring directly at you, is Christopher. He’s smiling at you and you think you might throw up. Your group slowly approaches his group and you notice Adam is walking a little closer to you now. He is aware of your past with Christopher, they all are. As you get close to the door to the conference hall, Chris breaks away from his group and approaches you. He can tell from the look on your face that you are about to freak out and run. A voice comes over the intercom system announcing the conference will be starting soon. Everyone in the lobby heads for the doors and you get jostled around. Frozen to your spot, you’re unable to move out of the throng of people as they continue to file into the hall, pushing you out of their way as they go. You’ve lost Adam and you’ve lost Summer, but a strong hand closes around your arm and pulls you free of the people. Thankful to be out of that mess, you take a deep breath and look up to face your savior. And there he was, Christopher. His black suit jacket is snug across his shoulders, the pants snug around his thighs. He’s not wearing a tie, just a white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone. His black hair fell in his face a little bit as he pulled you closer. His arms circled around your shoulders, and yours around his waist and you sighed. Your head pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, all the fear and anxiety melts away and it’s as if it hasn’t been years since you’ve seen him. He feels exactly as he did on the day he left you, strong and warm. He squeezes you tightly and your hands slide under his jacket to cling to the shirt underneath, balling it in your fists. His cheek rests on the top of your head.

“You find me before you leave. Yeah?” He asked. You nodded yes against his chest, your heart swelling with the happiness you feel in this moment. He kissed the top of your head. “My princess.” He whispered against your hair. You thought your heart might burst. Grinning like an idiot you looked up at him. He was gazing down at you, his eyes filled with so much love. You knew the conference was starting, you knew you both had to find your seats, but you just couldn’t let him go. He kissed your forehead and then the tip of your nose, which you scrunched up in return. He had never seen anything cuter. He pecked your lips for the first time in forever and your felt your knees go weak. He squeezed you one last time before letting you go, and entering the main hall.

Alone in the lobby, you stared after him. A mixture of happiness and sadness within you. So happy to have seen him and had this moment but so sad that it was over. You knew he would be going back to wherever he was at in life these days and you would be here, still waiting, still utterly desperate for him. His princess.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids imagines #hyunjins orange slice too

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megpricephotography · 9 months

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The sheep often like to hang about by the entrance to this field, under the trees. Normally, once they see Flynn & me, they get up & drift away, before we've even reached the gate. Not today!

Today, it was raining & the sheep did not want to move. I didn't want to open the gate while they were right there. It was so muddy, I worried if Flynn pulled at all (& he might, if the sheep suddenly panicked & fled!), I'd fall flat on my face! Anyway, there was a fairly prolonged stand-off, which Flynn eventually "won".

Once the sheep deigned to let us pass, we hurried on down to the crop fields, where Flynn could run free. Rain, rain, rain.

This track is normally dry & dusty all summer.

By the time we headed back through the sheep field, the rain was dropping off a little. The flock were just on their way out from under the trees.

While we waited for them to move along, I found a pretty feather... from a jay (maybe?)

There's always one... One lamb had decided it wanted to stay under the trees, instead of following the rest of its flock.

It just stood totally still & stared at us as we walked by.

Haha, & of course, just as we got to the end of our little outing... the rain totally stopped & the sun came out!

#flynn #border collie #dog #sheep #england #summer

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melanieph321 · 2 months

Text

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 2/6

Ugh, he looks so good 😮‍💨

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

You barley had time time to settle into your new neighborhood in Turin, let alone your new apartment, before your first day at work. You were called into the office upon the same week as your arrival, with your boss eager to meet his new accountant.

"Mr Vlahovic is just finishing up a phone call with Japan. He will be with you in a minute." The lady at the front desk said. "Would you like some water while you wait?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Then please Miss Y/L/N, feel free to have a seat."

It was funny the way she frased that last sentence. You wanted nothing more than to be able to take a seat, or have a glass of water, however the pencil skirt you had bought in a rush did not fit you the way you wanted. It was too tight. One splash of water would make you look bloated and attempting to take a seat might split the fabric, revealing the fact that you wore no underwear to even fit into the skirt. Although the skirt went well with the rest of your attire, you had learned your lesson not to buy designer clothes without trying them on first. The measurements simply didn't match the ones in regular stores.

"Miss Y/L/N?" The lady at the front desk called.

You perked up.

"Mr Vlahovic is ready for you now."

Your heels clicked beneath you as you made your way down a long hallway lit up by the lights from the windows outside. It was a small office building remotely located from downtown Turin. To get to the office you had to either take the bus or ride another vehicle, like a bike. By foot it might be too difficult, specially if you preferred wearing heels to work, since the office building was located on top of a street hill.

You stopped in front of the glass door with a plaque on it that said D.V. da Boss. Through the windows you spotted him, a tall man with short cut hair, overseeing a stack of papers scattered across his desk. You knocked on the door not knowing what to expect, however you knew that your boss was fairly young for his attained position.

"Come in!" He called, without raising his head to look at you. He remained standing next to his desk, looking to ponder over the piece of paper in his hand. "You arrived just in time." He mumbled. "I'm trying to finalize my next project but I just can't seem to get the numbers..."

The man had gone to lower the paper that blocked his view of you, he then froze, eyes wide in suprise.

"You?" He said.

"Me?" You repeated, not really sure how to react to a man, fairly young and handsome, who's eyes wandered freely upon your frame.

"I..." He seemed lost for words. But clearly he recognized you from somwhere, but how, you wondered. You had never stepped foot in Italy before let alone Turin of all places.

"I didn't know that I would see you again." He said, the first sentence he was able to form, having stopped staring at you with such baffled eyes.

And then it hit you, his voice, that smile, those baffled eyes.

"Fuck me."

********************************************

Dusan tried to keep his cool, but ultimately failed to as the memories came flowing back. Summer in Miami. His two week vacation had been necessary but ultimately too dull for his liking. That was, until he met her. "Y/N."

"Yes?"

She answered him, hands clasped together before her, a sign of nervousness. He was making her nervous.

"Wait" He thought aloud. His new employee that he was supposed to meet today was also named Y/N. But it couldn't be, she couldn't be.

"You're here....this is such a..." There were no words to describe the internal shock that he was feeling. The girl of his dreams, the one he thought to have left behind in Miami, was now standing before him, looking incredible in her tightly fitted skirt. Fuck. Dusan lifted his gaze, knowing that she must have caught him staring.

"Ciao, ciao!"

Just then his assistant Louisa entered the room, making the situation less awkward than it already was.

"I see you've met your newest employee Dusan." She smiled at him, having previously told him about the great candidate that she had selected out of all the applications. Little did he know that Y/N had been amongst those applicants.

"Y/N got here last week." His assistant said. "She's staying in downtown Turin by the condos you bought last year. I hope you're settling in well dear, you can always call us if you need anything." She said, turning to Y/N.

"Thank you, but I'm all good." She bowed her head with courtesy. Something that caused a stirr beneath Dusan's bowels, a stirr he had to gained absolute control of if he wanted to come out of this situation alive.

"Y/N, has come a long way from America. I think we owe our newest employee a tour of the city, don't you think Dusan?"

"Um, I might be busy." He mumbled.

"Too busy to show the poor girl around town?"

Dusan felt heat rise to his cheeks as Y/N eyes looked to him. "I've got work." He coughed, feeling himself spiral out of control right then and there.

"Don't worry." His assistant said, patting Y/N on the back, leading her out of his office. I'll give you a quick tour of the city myself, let's start with your new office shall we?"

Dusan was left alone as the two women strutted out of the room. He fell back in his desk chair, spinning it around to face the windows. He rushed to open them, as well as the top buttons of his shirt. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was cut too short by his barber. He was very displeased. "How the fuck am I going to fix this?" He thought to himself. Because it had been a mistake hiring Y/N. The memories of last summer, how the two had met and the things they had done together. It could ruin him. He had to get rid of her, if so God help him.

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic x reader #dusan vlahovic #juventus #juventus fc #italy #italia #turin

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farfromstrange · 2 months

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Austin: Prologue [Owen Sleater x F!Reader]

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read Me on AO3

Chapter Summary: You receive an ominous letter from Enoch Thompson. It brings back memories of your past, memories you would much rather forget because they could get you into a lot of trouble, and you find yourself backed into a corner that you have to find a way out of.

Chapter Warnings: Murder, blood, canon typical violence, assault (not sexual), alcohol consumption, organized crime, flashback

Word Count: 6.4K

A/n: About damn time I started writing for Owen. I fell in love with him from the moment he first appeared on screen. This idea was a lot more complex than a simple One Shot in my head, even though I thought about writing one first, so now you're getting a series. Because I just can’t help myself. The Boardwalk Empire fandom seems fairly small, but I hope my fellow Charlie-obsessed people on here appreciate this story regardless.

Set from Season 2 episode 9 onward!

This series is rated E for explicit! 18+ only!

The evening sun relentlessly burns down on the cemented sidewalks from the magenta skies above. Not a cloud is to be seen. Cars roll over the paved asphalt roads leading through the city, past the many pedestrians peeking through the many storefronts, always looking for something new to buy.

Every once in a while, a swarm of birds breaks free from the trees and wanders to the next. It’s a small glimpse of nature that lies behind the city center of Austin, Texas, but a small glimpse is better than none.

Each dollar bill that slips through your fingers feels like paper gold. In a patriarchal society, all everyone ever sees are men sitting in their ivory towers and spitting at those who dare to threaten their position. They can’t imagine themselves to fall lower than the rest.

You are far beyond any of that. You’re not insecure in your power. You don’t need to show it off to know that you have succeeded. Your anger may burn brighter than the force of a thousand suns, and you may be far more powerful than any man could ever fathom to be, but you would never see yourself above anyone else.

One thing almost all men seem to have in common, you have come to realize, is that they underestimate the power of a woman scorned. And that is a very dangerous thing to do.

The windows in your office are open, allowing a gentle breeze to cool down the summer heat that has stuck itself to the walls. As you count the money in your hands, you can’t help but watch the sun slowly set over Austin.

You take another sip of Whiskey. The label on the back of the bottle reads Mr. Austin’s Finest. Only about a quarter left.

You trace the condensation with a finger along the crystal of the glass. The brown liquid shimmers in the fading sunlight. You will have to supply your own office with another shipment soon enough, but for now, you have enough to enjoy the flavor just a little longer—the one flavor that will always remind you of being a little girl in a small town in the middle of nowhere, who made it to the city of Austin against all odds. It tastes like home, in a way.

To you, Austin is more than a city. It’s more than your mother’s hometown, more than the capital of the State you were born in and have never left for more than one week at a time, and it’s more than the home of the most valuable business you could ever run. It’s who you are. It may have been a name of convenience, and not even a very creative one at that, but it saved your life.

Your eyes scan the books spread out before you. Production. Distribution. Expenses. Profit. Names. Two notebooks, three tables, five columns. You count each dollar bill with precision, fold the stacks into neat packages, and wrap them up with porous rubber bands from the first drawer in your desk. The rest, you place into an envelope.

The floorboards creak, and you divert your attention from your work to the doorway. “Beth,” you say.

She offers you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss, but I just received a letter from you that wasn’t with the earlier correspondence,” she says.

Elizabeth Brown. She was the only person in all of Austin who, when you first got there, showed you that she understood the real meaning of discretion. Now, you would trust her with your life, and you value her opinion more than that of your associates. There is something about a good heart worth so much more than ruthlessness, even in a business that requires your heart to be made out of ice so you won’t get hurt.

But even Beth has her secrets.

You exhale audibly, swallowing the last sip of your drink before setting the glass down on the deep brown Mahogany.

“That’s unusual,” you state. “Where’s it from?”

Beth takes another step into your office, her heels transitioning from the wooden floorboards to the soft carpet. “Um,” she holds out the envelope in front of her, “It’s from Atlantic City. I haven’t opened it yet, so I don’t know if it’s important. I can still put it with the others if you’d like.”

You carefully observe her body language. She isn’t lying, merely confused.

“No.” You pat your desk. “Leave it here.”

She crosses the threshold and places the envelope next to your hand. “Is there anything else you need, Miss?”

Looking up at her, you shake your head with a smile. “I want you to finish up and take an early evening. Go home, see your children,” you tell her. “You shouldn’t waste your time in this office when you could be with your family.”

Something about the way her face lights up with the gratitude that wraps her fragile heart in a warm hug makes you feel a little better about yourself.

“Thank you so much,” she says. “You really are incredibly generous.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. You’ve been working so hard, you’ve earned yourself a reward.”

She sighs happily. With a gentle, “Have a good night. And thank you again,” she turns on her heel and makes her way out of your office to gather her things in the foyer.

You are well aware that her job—working with you and getting caught up in whatever criminal chaos you engage in—puts her future at risk every day, and yet every day, she comes back to work.

Not that she has much of a choice, anyway. You loathe yourself for being incapable of offering her one. Beth stays because she believes that she owes you, and that alone adds another hundred tons of weight to the bricks that are already weighing heavily on your heart.

You reach for the envelope. The paper feels expensive underneath your fingertips. You turn it around to see who sent it, and the name strikes a chord before it has even been fully processed. Your body knows that something isn’t quite right. The sense of doom that fills you hangs over your head like the blade of a guillotine, ready to separate your head from your body.

Enoch Thompson.

“Fuck,” you curse.

He is a man whose reputation precedes him. County treasurer. Bootlegger. The man who used to run the city. And definitely, a man who knows how to make a dime or two in ways that leave even the actions you had to take in the past year shaking in their boots. You may be a quiet contender, but you always have your eyes and ears everywhere.

The letter itself feels just as fancy as the envelope. You put down the blade you used to open it. Never before had someone rubbed their wealth in your face quite like Enoch Thompson just did.

With a heavy heart, you begin to read his delicate handwriting. It seems shaky, in a way, as though his dominant hand was injured when he wrote it.

Dear Mr. Austin,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. You may not know me because so far, we haven’t had the pleasure to make each other’s acquaintance. From what I’ve heard, your reputation precedes you, and I went to great lengths to find a way to contact you.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Enoch Thompson, and I have reasons to believe that we were both once acquainted with the same man.

Seeing your late father’s name on paper, your blood runs cold. The oxygen escapes your lungs and refuses to return. You skim over the letters over and over again until your head is spinning.

I was deeply saddened to hear about his passing. And I was even more saddened to hear that his only living relative—a daughter, for all I know—passed away suddenly a year later. That family left a great legacy behind.

Your vision blurs. With every line, with every statement, and with every well-concealed jab, you feel like you are being led to the slaughterhouse.

I remember him well, though it has been many years. He came to me in Atlantic City with a dream, and I couldn’t help but invest in him. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw his name on the back of a bottle of Austin’s finest rum. A fine spirit, I must say.

I am glad to see that his legacy has found a way to live on in a great mind such as yourself.

In your father’s journal, he always portrayed Nucky as a trustworthy ally. A friend. After moving to Austin, you studied every word he wrote, and the few times he mentioned Atlantic City, he never lost a bad word about Enoch Thompson, which, considering his reputation, always surprised you, but you had never felt the need to doubt your father’s judgment of his friends.

Now though, you are slowly coming to realize that you may have underestimated the secrets he took with him to the grave—that his judgment may not have been as infallible as you thought it was—and your veins flood with pure, unbridled fear.

Fearlessness is a myth, but you usually have better control over your emotions than this.

I understand that you are a man of influence in the southern regions, and your business ventures have not gone unnoticed. In light of recent events here in Atlantic City, I believe there may be an opportunity for us to help each other. You see, due to recent events, I have chosen to step down from my position as treasurer. The landscape of this city is changing rapidly, and I could use a man of your resources and capabilities to help me rebuild.

I know you prefer to keep a low profile, and I am aware of the risk involved in such endeavors, but I assure you, a meeting would be of great benefit to both of us. Besides, I would love to finally meet you in person, Mr. Austin.

One hand washes the other. It’s a concept as old as time, but it is also incredibly fragile. In a case such as this, a chance of leaving even a speck of dirt behind remains, and then one person is bound to lose. You have seen it happen more times than you can count.

You ought to be careful, playing with fire; Enoch Thompson could bring on an inferno that you may not be able to counter with your own.

I encourage you to think about my offer, and I hope I will see you soon in Atlantic City.

Yours sincerely,

Enoch Thompson.

The force with which you rise from your chair causes it to slide a good few inches back against the wall.

“Beth?” you call out into the silence. Into the darkness.

For a moment, it seems like she has already left, but not even half a minute later, she pokes her head into your office.

“Miss?” she answers.

You let out a sigh of relief. “I know I said you can leave early, but I need you to call Leo and tell him to find out as much about Enoch Thompson as he can and bring it to me,” you say. “Tonight. I don’t care what he has to do to get the information, I need it in the next five hours.”

“Of course. Right away. Do you want me to ring Mr. Johnson as well? It sounds rather urgent.”

“No, I’ll take care of Anthony. Right now, I just need Leo. Can you do that for me?”

The desperation in your voice leaves no space for arguments. Beth nods, and she quickly turns away to tend to her new responsibilities with careful urgency. When the storm in your eyes becomes visible, she knows that no one in your vicinity is safe.

Another silent curse passes your lips. You reach for the bottle of Mr. Austin’s Finest again. It was your father’s recipe; you merely adjusted it to fit the needs of the general public. This particular brand was his idea, his legacy, as much as the rum was.

If someone hadn’t tried to steal all your family stood for, you wouldn’t be standing here, but right now, you are not so sure if it is something you should be happy about. You made mistakes, and if there is even the slightest chance that he know, you are beyond fucked.

The desk almost splinters underneath your fist when you land it on the tabletop.

You touch your neck. Most physical bruises don’t last for longer than three months, but as you place your hand against your throat, you can feel the blood pulsing underneath your fingertips. You can still feel the indentation of his fingers that faded a long time ago. And you can still feel his hands around your throat, applying an inhuman amount of pressure to your fragile windpipe.

Every breath you take burns like a thousand wildfires, rivaling the adrenaline that is threatening to burst your veins.

You can see him clearly when you close your eyes. It’s not liquor. You are not drunk. The letter on the desk before you triggered a chain reaction of memories, and you are not strong enough to tune them out.

You remember that his blood stuck to your skin like corn syrup, running through your fingers and onto your dress, painting the wooden floorboards a deep maroon. You could have sworn you could even smell the faintest hint of copper in the air. But your senses weren’t that powerful.

He was just lying there—a man you’d known since you were a child in a pool of his blood with a golden pocket knife buried deep in his chest while you were cowering in the corner as if the knife had never been in your shaky hand in the first place.

Your father raised you to be an independent woman in a world where women have always been seen as property. You made peace with the fact that you would never be able to take over the family business because at least you knew that your father believed in your ability to fight your own battles. Still, he died, and a few months later, the Prohibition Act took what little you had left at that point away from you.

You had never planned to come back to your little Texas hometown. You’d had a good job working for a good family, saving up to leave the country behind for good; you had always wanted to go to Paris.

The only thing your father had left you was your childhood home, and you cherished it with all you had. Until the father of the family you worked for lost his job, and they had to let you go. You were no longer able to pay the expenses of the house, so you had to let it go. It took only a few days for your entire life to crumble. You had been miserable, but the thought of killing a man had never crossed your mind until it happened.

You had come back to your hometown to say goodbye. To clean out your childhood home and start anew somewhere with what little money the house would have brought you. But Henry Boyd had other plans that night.

One moment, you were on your way to the only speakeasy in town, wanting to check out what it was all about, and the next you found yourself at home with bruises around your neck and blood on your hands.

“I want to thank you all for being so patient with me,” he had said as he stood high on one of the tables in the golden establishment. “It is an honor to be here today, with you all, and announce that your favorite brand of whiskey and rum is officially back in business!”

As blurry as the night is in your mind, you still vividly remember watching him lift the bottle with the emblem that had become so eerily familiar to you because you grew up seeing it on every bottle on your father’s shelf. But the bottle in front of you had someone else’s name on it—someone who promised you that he would keep what he knew in confidence after the government shut down the business your father left him—and it dawned on you like a gray cloud threatening to break down on you in strikes of lightning.

The crowd around you erupted in applause. And from that moment on, your entire world started to blur. The anger that consumed you was new, unbridled, and before you knew it, you were storming out of the building into the crisp night air.

How much can a person possibly bleed after having their throat slashed? You had never asked yourself that question up until that point. To be fair, six pints in a human body don’t sound like a lot until all six pints are right in front of you.

Six pints of blood on your living room floor, and in it, the corpse of Henry Boyd.

He came to your house. He threatened you. You had known this man for over two decades before that, and he still disappointed you because once it benefitted him the most, he turned his back on you and your late father’s legacy as if it had never meant anything to him other than means to make money.

You had no choice. Your father gave you his favorite pocket knife with the golden handle when you were sixteen, telling you to always carry it with you in case you would ever need to protect yourself.

“You never know when you need to stab a man, kid,” he told you. “You should be able to defend yourself. I won’t always be around, and you shouldn’t have to rely on anyone other than yourself.”

You had to do it. You had to kill Henry. If you hadn’t, he would have killed you.

When the realization settled over the fog, it was like someone slapped you across the face and injected you with cocaine.

You remember rising to your feet. Every step you took squelched with the blood stuck to your soles. It is a well-known fact that blood doesn’t easily wash out of clothes. You never thought it would be the same for skin.

You scrubbed your hands wildly, but the water kept turning redder and redder. It has settled underneath your fingernails and the depths of your cracked knuckles.

A sob broke out of your throat when you caught a glimpse of Henry’s body in the living room, and it hit you again, stronger this time. Like a jolt of electricity.

He had promised you to keep your father’s legacy safe after they shut down the factory. He had promised he would tell the truth, always because you were your father’s daughter, after all. He had promised, then turned his back on you and betrayed you anyway.

You couldn’t let them arrest you. You couldn’t allow them to put you in prison. And you couldn’t disappoint your father like that, not after all that happened and the things you had to do.

In a split second, you made a decision that would haunt you for the rest of your life, but it was the only right one at the time. You had to burn your bridges if you wanted to make it out of this. You already knew back then that you were going to hell one day; you could confess your sins another time.

Reading books and educating yourself all of your childhood taught you a thing or two about how to deal with a seemingly impossible situation.

Your dress landed together with your undergarments next to the body. In the bath, you scrubbed yourself down until not a trace of Henry’s blood was left on you. By the time you were done, your skin was red and breaking out into hives, but at least you were clean.

There was nothing left holding you there. Everything you once held dear had gone with the wind. Died. Passed on.

You were never destined for this kind of life. Always the only child despised by everyone but her own father because she never acted appropriately enough. Because she had never been girl enough. Because she refused to conform to what was expected of her. Because her father had not cared about anything other than raising a smart young person who could fend for herself.

You cleaned out the hidden compartment in your father’s bedroom that held all the journals he kept on the business. You were the only one he ever told about it. And you took the bottle of Whiskey you hid underneath the mattress together with all the money Henry had on him when he came to you.

You felt like you had somehow violated his corpse by stealing from him—you remember the feeling as clear as day—but you just followed mere instinct that night. You had to do whatever it took to survive.

You tipped the bottle of liquor and poured it over Henry’s lifeless frame. It mixed with the blood, liquifying it again. You could barely feel it, even as it stained your fingers for the millionth time that night. You were going to scrub it off again, and then you were going to burn this last bridge for good.

You didn’t want to have another choice. That was the terrifying part. Part of you liked what you did. You truly believed, for the longest time, that the devil had possessed you that night. You could not stand idly by and watch your castle crumble down at the hands of a man who had never dared to think about anyone but his miserable self.

The lighter in your hand clicked. Your nose filled with the scent of gasoline. One advantage of living in the countryside was the visible distance between the houses. If there had been a fire in the neighborhood, it would have taken hours until someone reported it, and by then it would already have been too late. You used that to your advantage.

For Henry, it had been too late ever since you slit his throat, but he wasn’t the only bridge you had to burn.

“Forgive me, Father,” you remember whispering, but not to God or a priest; you were saying it to your father’s lost soul, in the hopes he would be listening.

The lighter slipped from your fingers with a little push, and the liquor on the floor reacted instantly with the spark of flames. As your childhood home burned to the ground, you turned your back on the past. You turned your back on your sins and all you had ever loved, and you built a wall around your heart that you swore no one would ever be able to get through again.

“I’d like to purchase a ticket, please,” you told the man behind the counter at the train station the same night. Well, it was early morning by then.

“Where to?” he asked.

The postcard in your coat pocket had a very distinctive postmark on it. You still keep it locked in your desk. It was the first letter your mother ever sent to your father.

“Austin,” you said, looking up from underneath the hat you were wearing. “I’m going to Austin, sir.”

“Really? You have business there?”

“You could say that.”

But, looking at the letter Enoch Thompson sent you, now, eighteen months later, the small flicker of hope that reignited when your train rolled into Austin that night burns out in front of your weary eyes.

“Boo!”

Your head snaps toward the doorway again. “Jesus, Leo!” You press a hand against your chest. “You just scared the living daylights out of me.”

The fourteen-year-old boy smirks at your reaction. “Since when are you this jumpy?” he asks.

“I’m not jumpy,” you retort. “How about you learn how to fucking knock?”

He raises his arms in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I just thought that, since you asked me here, you would be expecting me.”

“I gave you five hours. And don’t call me ma’am.”

You don’t usually smoke, but when your pulse is racing and you feel sick to your stomach like you do know, it is all you can do to get your mind back in order. You grab the pack from a drawer in your desk, instantly overwhelmed by the stench of tobacco, but you light it anyway.

Leo approaches you. He’s a lot more confident than Beth is. She always acts as though she were stepping into a lion’s den, and maybe in a way, that’s true. Leo sees himself as part of the pack. A cub. He’s a teenager with too big of an openness to getting in trouble. You would call him a rebel, but even that would be an understatement. He’s much more than that, with a good head on his shoulders.

“It only took me two. Not that it matters,” he says. “As it turns out, a lot of people have opinions about Nucky Thompson that they have just been waiting to share with someone willing to listen.”

You frown, looking down at the watch on your wrist. “It’s already been two hours? How?”

“I don’t know. I don’t study the way time works. I haven’t even finished school yet.”

“Did I ask for a smartass answer?” you snap, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“No?” Leo pouts. “At least I don’t think you did.”

“Then don’t give me one. Jesus! How long have we known each other now?”

“Long enough to know that you only get mad like that when you’ve had a rough day.”

You scoff. “Rough is an understatement.” Another breath of nicotine fills your lungs. The words you’ve said repeat in your mind, and your heart cracks a little. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, kid. You’re just here to do your job.”

The cigarette lands in the ashtray on the top right corner of your desk, your tongue still filled with the bitterness it tainted your body with. Walking over to your mini bar to replace the empty bottle of Whiskey with some rum in your glass, you clear your throat and decide to change the subject to what concerns you.

“So, Enoch Thompson. Nucky.” You open the fresh bottle of rum. “What did you find out about him?”

“Well, he’s one of the leading powers of the liquor trade down there, but you probably already knew that. Or well, he was. That’s the important part. Apparently, the people he used to work with have turned against him, and he had to step down as County Treasurer.”

“I’ve heard as much through the grapevine. What would interest me is why he did that.”

You finish pouring your glass.

“May I have one of those?” Leo asks and points at your drink.

“When you’re older,” you answer.

“So your employees don’t even get to taste the, uh, merchandise anymore?”

You roll your eyes. “They do when they’re older than fourteen. Now, answer my question.” You turn back toward your desk and take a sip. “Why did Nucky Thompson step down as treasurer? Surely there is a reason his…empire started turning against him.”

As you sit back down, Leo steps in front of you. He isn’t very tall, but what he lacks in height he makes up in attitude.

He reaches out and takes the glass from you, completely ignoring your previous words. You’re so taken aback, you can’t even be mad. You’re not his mother, after all.

His features contort at the taste, but he still swallows it. “Ugh,” he grunts. “The, uh, District Attorney’s office filed charges against him. And not just for bootlegging.”

You take your glass back, straightening up with a sudden spike of curiosity. “Do tell,” you press on.

“Violation of the Eighteenth Amendment under the Volstead Act, voter fraud, solicitation, and—hold onto your seat!—murder. They think he killed his current…let’s say lady friend’s husband–” he looks down at his little notebook, “His name was Hans Schroeder or something. The lady’s name is Margaret. Two kids. Irish.”

“So, he went for the woman whose husband he killed or had killed. Wow.”

Leo’s eyes switch between you and his notes. “Well,” he says, turning back to the subject at hand, “US Attorney Esther Randolf is looking to prosecute Nucky Thompson, and it seems she has very compelling evidence that might put him in prison for the rest of his life.”

The realization settles over you like a dark cloud, and lightning strikes you as the only pillar in an empty field. “That bastard,” you mutter under your breath.

“I know, right?” Leo scoffs. “Can’t even do his job right. Thank God he ain’t our problem.”

He’s about to sit down, but you raise your hand with a warning look. “Don’t push it.”

He stops in his tracks, nodding. “Right, sorry.”

“You’re my informant. Your job is to inform me. And everyone who’s connected to what we do in any way can become our problem, don’t ever forget that.”

“There is something else,” he says.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you ask, and it sounds a bit more sarcastic than you intended.

He doesn’t take your attitude to heart. Leo knows you well enough by now to know that you are not an irrational person.

Connecting the unveiled truth to the letter you received, it all makes a lot more sense now, and you almost want to applaud the man for his audacity to pull all possible strings to get out of whatever hellhole he dug for himself. Almost. Right now though, you’re fuming, and you’re scared, and for the first time since coming here, you are not quite sure what to do or what choice to make.

Enoch Thompson can rot in hell for all you care, but your father’s words won’t leave your head and the looming sense of doom that is threatening to rain down on you like a guillotine continues to consume you.

Who knows; if you were in his shoes, maybe you would have done the same with the people you know who might be able to wash your hands in return for something else. The world of trading liquor for profit has become a dangerous game in America ever since Congress passed the Volstead Act.

There is a reason that legally, you don’t exist anymore. Legally, you’re dead. You burned alive in your childhood home, the one you set on fire. No one believed that you could have been cruel enough to orchestrate such a thing, and you are glad it ended that way. The town mourned you. It was sad. But you found a way to salvage all of what Henry ruined.

You may have killed a man in self-defense—you may have committed murder, stolen from his corpse, and burned your life to the ground to fake your death and start anew somewhere else like a criminal and as a criminal—but at least you didn’t stand idly by and let a man far worse than you ruin everything you had left. You know you’re not innocent, and you’re no angel either, but the ice that surrounds your heart makes it easier not to let it break you.

Mister Austin was born out of spite, but spite is as good a reason to claim the power of an undeserving man.

The things that need to be done are not always something you can be proud of, but your options are zero to none. To make money, you have to bend the rules a little. And sometimes, you have to break them clean through. You learned that the hard way.

You stop tapping the brim of your glass when Leo calls your name. Looking up, you meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask.

He clears his throat. “I said that his brother is in protective custody,” he says. Again, Leo checks his notes. “Eli, that’s his name. And I heard that James Damody has taken Nucky’s place. He used to be his protégée or something. I don’t know.”

“Hm.” You empty what little rum that’s left from the portion you poured yourself.

The sticky liquid is eerily similar to the consistency of fresh blood. You rub it between your middle and index finger, and for just a second, your eyes make it look like it’s scarlet.

In your peripheral vision, you can see Leo moving his hat back onto his head. “Well, that’s all I have. Not everyone hates Nucky Thompson, and not everyone loves gossip as much as old ladies peeking out of windows in Atlantic City.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, reaching for the envelope with the leftover dollar bills from earlier. “That helped a lot.”

“Hey,” he shrugs, “that’s my job.”

“You’re right, but I’m still giving you an additional fifty to buy something nice for your mother.” You count the bills that fit his rate, sliding them over to his side.

The boy takes them with a smug grin on his face. “So you’re giving my mother a raise but not me, the one who’s actually doing the dirty work for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you add another twenty. “Don’t waste it on something useless,” you warn him. “Our last deal may have been a financial miracle, but I can’t go around giving bonuses to everyone every week.”

Leo counts the money you gave him, and he seems rather satisfied with the fruits of his labor. “I’ll take it,” he says.

As he makes his way to the door, your eyes flick between the envelope, Nucky Thompson’s letter, and the telephone. You’re going to get yourself into a lot of trouble, but you have reached a dead end. He forced you into a corner that you could only get out if you faced him. All the scenarios in your head end with a disaster. The only point of escape is the one Nucky forced you through.

You should think this through, but every second you spend thinking is another second closer to losing it all.

“Wait,” you stop Leo in his tracks. “How much would it take for you to look after the farm for…let’s say a week?”

He raises his eyebrows. “A week?”

“Yeah. Feed the cattle, take the horses out, make sure the chickens don’t starve, that sort of thing.”

“Twenty bucks an hour,” he says.

“Fifteen,” you counter, “and you get to take all the eggs.”

“Nineteen.”

“I’m not negotiating with a child.”

“Eighteen and the eggs.”

“Fine. Seventeen. Last offer.”

Leo’s lips curl up. “I guess your animals won’t have to starve after all.”

“I’ll tell Beth to make sure you get your money on time,” you state. “And I’ll let you know if my plans change.”

You pick up the receiver of your telephone, pressing the button to connect you with the operator.

“Where are you going, anyway?” he inquires.

The line rings into your ear with every breath you take. You know it’s a decision you shouldn’t make. You shouldn’t run toward danger without knowing what you’re getting yourself into, but there is nothing you wouldn’t do to assure the safety of the life you’ve built for yourself.

“Atlantic City,” you finally answer, and it dawns on Leo at the same time the weight becomes a reality on your shoulders.

The operator asks to know who you are calling for, and you repeat the number that is more than familiar to you back to her. Again, the line rings as it starts to connect.

“You’re going to Atlantic City to meet with Nucky Thompson, aren’t you?” Leo asks again.

He’s too curious of a child for his own good. Sometimes, you want to curse him for it.

The lump in your throat feels significantly bigger than it did five minutes ago. You nod, but that’s all you can do.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

With a bitter chuckle, you shake your head. “I wish I did, but no,” you say. “I have no fucking clue.”

Leo flips his hat back onto his head. “Well, at least try to stay safe out there,” he tells you.

“I will. Thank you.” But you know that it’s a lie.

The line finally stops ringing and clicks when the door has fallen shut behind him.

You tear your eyes away from the empty spot before you and focus on the piece of paper on your desk. Enoch Thompson’s name sticks out to you like a million candles on a pitch-black midnight.

“Andrew,” you greet him. Your fingers fiddle with the envelope. “It’s me. Listen, I have to tell you something, and I hereby ask you not to murder me.”

You’re going to Atlantic City to meet with Nucky Thompson, that much you have decided, and there is nothing in this world anyone could do that would stop you from doing what you believe is right.

Tag List: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series! Starting after this chapter!

#owen sleater x reader #owen sleater x you #owen sleater x f!reader #owen sleater #boardwalk empire #owen sleater imagine #boardwalk empire x reader #charlie cox #female reader #owen sleater angst #owen sleater fluff #owen sleater smut #reader insert #x reader series #lizzi writes: austin

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illusioninfnty · 2 years

Text

Stress Reliever (Jacob Custos x Reader)

Jacob bothers you one too many times after a bad day, leaving you no choice but to take your frustration out on him. Or, WebMD says that sex can relieve migraine headaches.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: NSFW 18+, sub!Jacob, degradation and praise kink, riding, safe sex, begging, dirty talk

crossposted on ao3!

“Fuck this job.”

You were at your wit’s end with these kids. Why did you ever think it was a good idea to take a job at a summer camp, surrounded by rowdy children twenty-four seven? It didn’t help that Mr. Hackett was down two counselors, leaving yourself and Kaitlyn to pick up the extra duties that were originally assigned to them.

You’d only been here for a month but you still weren’t used to the sweltering heat. It seemed like every day the humidity got worse and more and more bugs spawned from the woods.

“What’d the kiddos do this time?” Your fellow camp counselor Dylan hopped over the log you were on to take a seat next to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

Dylan was always a saving grace away from your responsibilities in camp. He never failed to make you laugh when you were stressed out, unlike a certain counselor of yours who always added onto your recurring migraines.

“I swear to god, they’re going to make me raid the nurse’s medicine cabinet any day now,” you reply, rubbing your temples with your free hand, the other occupied squeezing a makeshift stress ball you may have borrowed from one of the kids. “This is my second migraine this week and it’s only Wednesday.”

Dylan hissed, rubbing your shoulder in sympathy. “Well at least you don’t have much more to do today. You know you’re always cool to hang out with me in the radio hut.” He handed you a water bottle, no doubt one he’d been holding onto for a while due to how lukewarm it was. “I can always put on some calmer tunes to soothe your mind.”

You sigh as you take a long sip of the water. “You know I appreciate the offer Dyl, but I’d much rather—”

“Heyyy, my two favorite party people!”

Oh no.

Jacob bothered you to no end. Ever since he flirted with you not even 24 hours after you arrived at Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp, he was always managing to find you around the camp, absolving you from the few moments of peace and quiet you could get in this hectic place. You knew he was a nice guy, but he acted a bit too…conceited for your taste.

You turned your head sharply to give him a polite smile, but you knew with the pounding of your head it probably looked more like a grimace.

“Jacob, my man! What’s happening?” You were grateful that Dylan spoke up first, raising his hand to connect a fist bump with Jacob. Much to your dismay, Jacob decided to plop down on the log right across from you, so close that his foot was touching yours.

“Hey, Jacob,” you reply in a much gentler tone than intended. You had hoped he would leave, but by the looks of it he was planning on staying until you followed him back to the lodge. Typical.

“Oh, my dudes, okay, so I was gathering the kids back at the lodge for lunch, but since we were at the lake, we had to pass the art cabin. And you will not believe what I just saw at the art cabin!” He exclaimed. Jacob was clearly excited, his face lighting up as it usually did when he was about to divulge into a topic for minutes.

You winced at the volume of his voice, trying your best to hide it. Jacob was fairly sensitive, and if he got the hint that you were too interested in this conversation right now you knew it would put him in a bad mood for the rest of the day. You really didn’t want to deal with an upset Jacob on top of your migraine and sore limbs from running around all day.

“The art cabin? Oh, so did Emma finally make a move on Abi?” Dylan asked as you squeezed your stress ball tighter. His hand that was only your shoulder moved down to your forearm, giving you a comforting rub.

Jacob glanced down at where Dylan’s hand connected with your arm and he cleared his throat.

“Well– uh– yeah, she– okay what’s going on with you two?” Jacob suddenly changed the topic, nodding his head towards your close contact with Dylan.

Dylan drew his hand back and you sighed, not wanting to get into this now. Jacob always got antsy like this when it came to you, like he had some sort of claim on you. He got annoyed whenever you interacted with any of the other male counselors. Even Dylan, your closest friend at the camp, who was very much gay and very much into Ryan was not spared from Jacob’s jealousy issues.

Jacob continued. “Making moves on the little medic, huh? Not cool dude, she’s like, totally not into you, man.” He said, looking like he was trying to size Dylan up. Your co-counselors began calling you by the nickname “little medic” after you had (not so graciously) offered to take the nursing position that was supposed to be for one of the two counselors who bailed. With the kids constantly running around and getting injured, you began to bring a first aid kit with you when you had to complete your other duties and the others teased you for it relentlessly.

Jacob’s volume had increased and your ears were ringing even worse, a sign that it was probably time for you to go take a nap. Whenever Jacob usually got like this you would spend the rest of the day with him, letting him take you to wherever location he desired and indulging in his conversations and play fights. But that wasn’t an option now, with your head pounding and hands all shaky, all you wanted to do right now was relieve some stress.

You take a deep inhale before starting, “Jacob, please–”

“Back off man,” Dylan interrupts, “She’s not interested in you either, and she sure as hell doesn’t want to see you right now. Can’t you see that you’re bothering her?” He glared at Jacob, now finally standing up to be chest-to-chest with the athlete and his back towards you. You knew Dylan was only doing this so you wouldn’t have to strain yourself, but he had a way of antagonizing Jacob that you knew would only escalate this situation a lot farther than you wanted it to.

Jacob let out a malicious laugh and put his hands on his hips. “You think this is fucking funny? You really think your puny little ass–”

“Enough!”

Both boys turned to look at you for your surprising outburst, Dylan with a look of guilt and Jacob with one of surprise. You were never really one to speak out, one of the more soft-spoken members of your ragtag group.

“Jacob.” You acknowledge the larger of the two, clasping your hands in front of you like a prayer. “I haven’t been having the best of days so I would really appreciate you lowering your voice just a bit. Please.” You hoped he would get the memo that you wanted to be left alone, but knowing Jacob like you did he wasn’t one to take a hint.

“Well– Dylan was the one that started it!” he sputtered, pouting like he usually did when you scolded him.

Dylan rolled his eyes and snickered. “That was all you, my man. How does it feel to strike out with our little medic once again?”

The comment clearly bothers Jacob as he pushes on Dylan’s shoulders, jaw clenching and eyes flaring up. “Is there something else you want to say to me, huh?”

“Okay, that’s it!” You grab Jacob’s hand forcefully, pulling him away from Dylan before things get more physical. You look up at Jacob with a glare. “You and I are going to handle this somewhere else.”

As you start to drag Jacob in the opposite direction of the lodge, you turn back to Dylan.

“If I’m not back by dinnertime, you better send someone to get me. I am not going to miss a meal to deal with this.”

He gives you a mock salute and wink, walking backwards away from the two of you. “Aye, aye, doc.”

You let out a giggle and continue on your way, feeling Jacob grasp your hand just a little bit tighter.

***

Jacob was not the best with confrontation. He was also not the best when it came to talking to you. He hoped you didn’t notice how sweaty his palms were.

“W-where are we going?” Jacob finally asks you after a couple of moments of the two of you walking in silence.

You let out a sigh. “Somewhere that we won’t get interrupted.”

Jacob almost choked on his saliva. Did you understand what you meant when you worded it like that? He quickly decided that he wouldn’t really mind if you did. At this point, Jacob was just happy to get some extra alone time with you, even if you were planning on yelling at him.

An awkward silence ensued as you concentrated on bringing him to wherever it was you claimed would give you two some privacy. Just thinking about it made Jacob feel all giddy inside.

After walking through the woods for a while, Jacob finally recognized where the two of you were. You had taken him back to the cabins and you were leading him to an older building, the one with a broken bed that was currently not being used by anyone.

Before Jacob could comprehend what was happening, you had led him into the cabin, slammed the door behind you, and pushed against his chest to make him take a seat on the not-broken bed. The fire in your eyes was something that Jacob had never really seen before from you. He was a bit embarrassed to admit it, but your sudden show of dominance turned him on. Just a bit.

“Jacob. Look at me.” Your hands were on your hips as you eyed him with a stern look on your face. He may have been a bit too concentrated on some other parts of you.

He gulped and made eye contact with you, fingers digging into the bare mattress pad. “Y-yeah? What did I do wrong?”

As soon as he saw your face, he knew that was the wrong thing to say. Your brows furrowed and the glare you gave him would have made him jump in place if it was from anyone who wasn’t you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You huffed. “I told you that I was having a bad day! You can’t take a fucking hint and leave me alone for one goddamn day in your life. You’re lucky I didn’t decide to chew out your ass in front of Dylan. Maybe I should’ve done that, the others really need to see you be brought down a peg or two.” At this point, your voice was raised enough that Jacob could see the strain in your throat. Not like he was paying attention to it already. Definitely not.

Jacob knew this was wrong. He knew that you had valid concerns, that you had a right to be angry with him, but he couldn’t help the way he felt about you. He couldn’t help how he reacted to you. Whenever he saw you, you made his heart pound and his body feel hot all over. He felt as though he was going through puberty again. You may have thought that he just wanted some sort of casual summer fling, but Jacob was serious about you. You were quiet, but had the funniest quips that cheered him up when he was feeling shitty. You were the only one to actually defend him when another counselor was ragging on him, and you would even spend your free time with him. Jacob knew you cared about him, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“Jacob!” You snap your fingers in front of his face. “Are you even listening–”

Your abrupt cutoff made his focus come back on to what you were saying. Your eyes weren’t on him anymore. They were lowered. His gaze moved down to see what you were looking–

Oh.

Jacob had popped a boner. And you were staring right at it.

Panicking, he quickly went to cover it with his hands, but unexpectedly you smacked his hands away.

“Don’t do that. I want to see.”

You wanted to see his boner? Jacob’s face flushed. Was this some kind of weird foreplay thing you were doing? Not that he was complaining.

“Yeah! I mean, sure, if you want to…see it…” Jacob’s voice trailed off as he slowly removed his hands, unsure of what to do now without your direction. He looked up at you, waiting for your next command.

You let out a loud laugh. “Oh my god, you are so pathetic.”

His cock twitched at your demeaning words. He really shouldn’t be getting turned on by this, but you were just so hot right now. Well, you were always hot, but the way you were acting all bossy in this moment really got him going.

“You’re desperate enough to make me fuck you when I’m dealing with my migraines?” You tutted at him mockingly, a smirk rising onto your face.

Jacob let out a nervous laugh as he tried to remain calm. “I-I think I heard somewhere that sex can cure headaches. You know, WebMD and that shit?”

You stared at him in disbelief before giggling into your fist. “Yeah? Well, you better deliver good results then, big boy.”

Oh god. This was really happening. Jacob had been waiting for this a lot longer than he wanted to admit.

With unprecedented strength, you grabbed the elastic of his shorts and yanked them down. Jacob felt more exposed now then he did that one time last month when he skinny dipped for a dare. He was laying on the mattress in just his cropped tee and boxers while you were still fully clothed.

“You look like such a slut right now, Jacob.” You run your fingers down his exposed chest ever so lightly that it makes his cock throb even harder. It’s too obvious for you to ignore and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Are you getting off on that? Me calling you a slut?” You look amused by the idea and Jacob audibly gulps.

“Y-yeah,” is the only thing he’s able to stammer out without making himself look like a fool.

You finally stop your teasing and pull down his boxers, letting his cock spring free. You squeeze it gently as Jacob tries his hardest to suppress a moan.

“Well this isn’t about you right now.” You position yourself on top of him and he hisses as you make contact with his bare cock. “I need some relief, and you’re available, so you’re going to help me. Understand?”

“No complaints here,” Jacob’s voice trails off as you pull your top off and unclip your bra.

You notice him ogling and you laugh. “Haven’t seen a pair of tits before?” Jacob looks back up at you, eyes still wide. You guide his hands to your breasts and let him palm them.

“Fuck,” Jacob mutters under his breath, entirely focused on them now.

“You can keep yourself occupied with these. In the meantime” –you raise your hips to shimmy out of your pants and underwear– “I’m going to relieve some stress.”

You pull a condom from your fanny pack before dropping it unceremoniously to the side with your discarded clothes. Sliding it on Jacob, his attention is back onto you.

“Why do you have that with you?” he asks, a bit more forcefully than he had intended to be. “Are you with anyone else?” Jacob was worried. He didn’t want to have to confront any of the other counselors, but he would if it meant being able to have you all to himself.

You give him a blank stare. “How is that any of your concern? I can fuck whoever I want if I so please, dude.”

“What the fuck? I told the other guys you were off limits–!” Before he could finish you roll your eyes and slam down onto his erect cock with no warning.

“Oh fuck!” Jacob moans out, collapsing back onto the bed and feeling weak from the sudden connection. You felt perfect around him. So tight, and even with the condom he could feel your pulsating insides as you let out a moan too.

Jacob thought he heard angels singing when he heard your moans, and the erotic look on your scrunched up face was enough to make him cum right then and there.

“Enough of your macho bullshit while I’m trying to destress, okay?” You stutter out as you find a comfortable rhythm.

“Got it,” Jacob replies, moving his hands up to grab onto your waist as you ride him. Before he can do it though, you grab his arms and push them above his head, binding him with your grip.

His body tensed and his head felt hotter than before, the extra skin-to-skin contact making him feel even hornier than before, which he didn’t think was possible. With your free hand, you shove two of your fingers into his mouth.

“Suck.”

Jacob obeys immediately.

He’d never done stuff like this before. In fact, Jacob hadn’t done much of anything before besides some making out in high school. You seemed a lot more experienced than him and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Having you guide him into pleasing you and showing him what you liked in bed turned him on, but the thought of you doing something like this with other guys–perhaps even someone at camp–infuriated him to no end.

“Please say it’s only me,” Jacob begged as you removed your fingers. His eyes were wide and filled with tears, pleading with you silently.

You looked to be in thought for a split second before giving Jacob a gentle smile. “Only you, Jake. I’m just teasing you.” You pause in your movements to lean forward slightly and trail kisses down his throat, grinding on his cock.

Jacob closed his eyes and let out a groan. Fuck, you were so fucking sexy. He wished that the two of you could stay like this forever, in your own paradise away from everyone else. The position felt so intimate, like the two of you were a couple. He had the sudden urge to kiss you in that moment, more than he ever had before.

Before Jacob could get used to the lulled movements and intimacy, you began to ride him again at a more rapid pace than earlier.

“This–” Slam. “Fucking–” Slam. “Headache!” Your movements were harsh and the sounds of your skin slapping against his were louder than before. You grimaced hard and threw your head back in frustration.

“I swear, if your stupid site is wrong I’m going to strangle you.” You snap.

Jacob swallowed hard and looked up at you. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you did that anyway.”

You rise up off of him and he cries out in protest.

“W-what–?”

“You little shit,” your mouth curves into a smug grin, “you're a kinky little bitch!”

Jacob blushed at your insinuation and shifted his eyes away from you, too embarrassed to meet your stare. “Stop it! Just–please put my dick back inside you, okay? He tried lifting his hips to reach you but you shifted away from him, causing an involuntary whine to leave his throat.

“Stop getting feisty with me. I’m the one in charge here.” You ran your folds over the base of his cock, and Jacob visibly shivered in pleasure with the contact.

“Don’t you want to be my good boy, Jacob?”

Something carnal stirred inside of him when you said that. His heartbeat quickened, his breathing got heavier and palms got clammier, and his whole body heated up.

“I do,” he panted eagerly. Jacob wanted to be yours entirely. He wanted to be the only one you had, the only one you went to for indulgence, and the only one you used to get off. He wished to be consumed by you and all of the pleasure you gave him and could get from him, to be able to call you his and for you to call him yours.

As you slid his cock back into you, you both let out a moan harmoniously. He held your hands in his, desperate for more contact with you in any way possible. You were too distracted by your own gratification to scold him about it.

“Yeah, you’re my good boy, aren’t you?” You’re able to utter out amidst the feeling of Jacob’s cock stirring up your insides.

“I-I am!” Jacob’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he swore. Your pussy felt like heaven, milking his cock thoroughly. The pace you had set was relentless but he didn’t wish for it to be any other way. He tries to grab onto you, anywhere he could reach, but your grip around his wrists was much stronger than he anticipated. You push down on his arms with one hand while the other comes up to grip his chin and turn his head towards your face.

“Jacob!” You pull off of him again and let out an exaggerated gasp. “Good boys don’t break the rules. Are we going to have to stop this?”

“No! I’m good. I’m your good boy!” He was aching for release at this point, wanting to please you so you would grant him just that.

You shove his cock back into you at his reply, pleased with this answer. You wanted to tease him more, but you were in grave need of your release as well. Your migraine was gradually beginning to subside and you didn’t want to risk it coming back.

“Fuck, fuck!” You let out a string of curses and Jacob could tell that you were on the verge of your orgasm too with the way that you were trembling above him.

“Oh, fuck, I love you!” Jacob cries out.

Your pace falters as Jacob lets out a whimper and finally cums, releasing into the condom at the same time that you tighten around him and let out a cry of relief of your own.

You finally process what Jacob had said after you come down from your high, your legs still quivering slightly around his hips. “Do you mean it?”

“I do! You’re really hot, and you’re really nice to me, and you don’t make fun of me like everyone else does. I really, really, like you,” he protests.

“Jake, baby, you barely know me though,” you release a sad sigh as you caress his cheek.

“Then let me get to know you more. Please.”

“We just fucked. I’d say you know plenty by now.”

Jacob scoots over to the side of the twin mattress to make room for you next to him. You slid the condom off of him, tied it, and threw it in the trash can a few feet away. Before you slide in next to him you slip your clothes back on, feeling a bit embarrassed now that the sex was over and Jacob was completely focused on you.

“I’m serious. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. I know you hate when I get all jealous, but seeing you with the other guys makes me so fucking terrified that you’re going to realize how pathetic I am and how everyone’s right about giving me shit–”

“Hey.” You shut him down before he can spiral any further down that path. Even though you’ve only known Jacob for a little under two months, most of that time was spent with him both alone and with others. You understood he had deep insecurities and likely never received much affection from anyone. Even though he could be a bit overwhelming at times, Jacob didn’t deserve the relentless ragging the others gave him. “Stop that.” You squish his cheeks gently, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. It seems to do the trick, as a blush crosses the bridge of his nose as he looks down and the corners of his mouth turn upwards.

“Now,” you look around the floor, grabbing his things that were thrown carelessly earlier, “You should probably put these back on before this gets more serious.”

Jacob blinked before processing what you said. “Yeah. Okay. Makes sense.”

Silence passes between you two as Jacob gets dressed, but not before you sneak an extra peek at his ass before he pulls on his bottoms.

Once he’s back next to you, he moves to tangle your legs with his.

“I really like you, you know. I want to be exclusive with you.”

You begin stroking the back of his neck as he sighs and relaxes into your chest. “I think we should–”

“Hey lovebirds!”

Both you and Jacob jump away from each other as Nick’s voice rings right outside the cabin, echoing along the hollow wooden frame.

“I hope you two aren’t naked in there! I’m coming in!”

Before Nick could barge in you spring up and get to it before he does, sticking your head out to allow Jacob time to compose himself.

“Oh.” His face dropped. You could tell he was disappointed to not catch the two of you in a compromising position, most likely to go back to Dylan with and tease Jacob about, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let any of the other counselors see you like that.

“Sorry Nick, I’m afraid I have no jerk off material for you,” you tell him playfully.

He flicks your forehead and you wince, rubbing the affected spot. “Alright, alright, let’s go you two. Dylan kept pestering me about making sure to come get you, and I don’t want him to get his panties in a twist.”

You laugh and gesture for Jacob, pulling him out to follow you. You hear his breath hitch as you grab his hand and you try to hide a smirk as you drop once the two of you are in Nick’s clear view.

As you and Jacob make your way back to the lodge with Nick, lingering slightly behind him, Jacob hesitantly reaches for your hand as if unsure if he should hold it or not. You grab it and squeeze tightly, wrapping your other arm around his and lean into him as the two of you follow Nick. You’re close enough to Jacob’s chest that you hear his heartbeat quicken with the action.

Nick fills you in on what you guys missed at dinnertime, with crying kids and panicking counselors. You’re glad you missed all of that.

As you approach your destination, the conversations of little kids get increasingly louder. You sigh, hoping that they’ll be tired out soon and you won’t have to deal with them for too much longer.

“We’re back!” Nick calls out, even though it seems too noisy for anyone to hear your arrivals.

To your surprise, Dylan steps out waving to the three of you.

“I was starting to think you got attacked by bears out there or something! How’s the migraine doing now, doc?”

“It’s a lot better now, thanks for asking,” you smile wryly as you hear Jacob clear his throat next to you, most likely in embarrassment.

Dylan peers behind you, most likely curious at Jacob’s reaction to your comment.

“Oh?” His signature shit eating grin slowly spreads across his face. “Jacob? Is there something you wanna tell us?”

Jacob sputters as you bite your lip to contain your smile.

“Hey, at least I’m getting some,” Jacob replies, arms crossing against his chest.

“Oh yeah, you’re really getting it. And she’s the one giving it to you,” Dylan snickers.

“Shut the fuck up dude!”

Dylan and Nick laugh and you pat Jacob on the shoulder, walking away to remove yourself from the teasing that was about to happen. As you make your way inside the lodge, you run into the girls and Ryan, all of whom most likely just finished eating.

Emma is the first one to notice your presence. “Little medic, you’re back! So, how’d it go?” She holds out her o’s with a smirk on her face as she nudges her hip with your own.

You roll your eyes playfully. “It went.”

“Come on, you have to give us more than that! Spill the deets,” Emma shoots back.

“Ugh, fine,” you concede. “All I’ll say is that WebMD has some pretty accurate methods of curing migraines.”

It takes a second for the girls to register your comment. Once it hits, Kaitlyn lets out an exaggerated gasp while Emma chuckles behind her hand and Abi blushes, avoiding eye contact. “Oh my god, you little minx! I didn’t know you had it in you!” Kaitlyn exclaims.

“Huh? What the hell did that even mean?” Ryan asks, completely puzzled.

You chuckle, maneuvering past him to fix yourself a plate. “Don’t worry Ry. You don’t have to know.” You turn back to the girls. “Besides, I’m not the only one. Emma and Abi have some explaining to do.”

With Kaitlyn’s focus now on the two girls, you go and find an empty seat at one of the tables at the same time that Jacob, Dylan, and Nick finally enter the building. Jacob’s eyes scan the room, and brighten when they land on you. He quickly grabs some food and scurries over to sit next to you, giving you a goofy smile as he stuffs his face. Under the table, your’s and Jacob’s hands gravitate towards each other, and the light brush sends shocks up your spine.

Jacob hesitates before looking over towards you. “Is this okay? Are we…” He trails off.

“Yeah,” you send him a soft smile, “Yeah, this is more than okay.”

You never expected this development with Jacob to happen at all, let alone this quickly. But his eagerness and vulnerability really showed you how serious he was. Jacob wasn’t at all like the guy you thought he was when you initially met him, but perhaps first impressions weren’t always the best to go by.

This summer wasn’t turning out like you expected it to be in the slightest. You didn’t think you’d be able to predict what else was in store for you this summer at Hackett’s Quarry.

#jacob custos x reader #jacob custos x reader smut #jacob custos x you #the quarry x reader #the quarry x reader smut #the quarry smut

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