#blue plaid studies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv4kozume · 3 months

Text

🏹 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 — MATT STURNIOLO

Part 01

Previous: Part 00 Sneak Peek

BadBoy!Pervert!Matt x GoodGirl!Fem!Reader

Contains: HELLA PLOT + time skips, swearing, private college au (reader is 18, Matt is his current age; school uniforms), brief mention of drugs (weed, implied stoner!matt), praise, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), teasing, begging, riding, missionary, dorm sex, unprotected sex, squirting + creampie, enemies to lovers. Not proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you and your obnoxious classmate, Matt , are assigned a project to do together. You go back to his dorm to work with him but it soon began to take a sexual turn.

Word Count: 4,645+

💋 — Requested: “can u write a fic where chris or matt r ur school bully and one day while walking up the [stairs] they touch ur butt or like look under ur skirt and then it’s some enemies to lovers thing going on in a classroom. idek if this made sense but yuh 😭”

a/n: FOR MY MATT GIRLS!!! When I got this request it gave me hella pervert and bad boy vibes and I RAN with it. ENJOY BABIES!! 🫦

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

Matthew Sturniolo. Where do you even begin to describe such a hopeless case like him?

Well for one, he was your classmate in your home room: Foundations of Communication. Which of course would be fine, however, he is the only junior enrolled in the required freshman class— after he had failed the class twice already.

You were nobody to judge, but there was just something about Matt that irked you to your core.

Perhaps it was the way he would always show up to class late. The collar of his grey uniform shirt always popped and the hem messily untucked.

Or maybe it was the musk smell of marijuana lingering on his being as it intermingled with the cheap cologne he tried to mask it up with.

Or possibly how he was determined to sit right behind you each time he decided to show up to class. He acted as if he were some horny high school boy; constantly kicking your seat, copying down your notes and answers, and sometimes even catching a few glances up your skirt.

You were convinced he was some sort of pervert, always looking up some unsuspecting girl’s skirt.

It was painfully obvious this guy was begging for your attention. And you for sure, were not willing to give him so much as an ounce.

*ೃ༄

“Fuck!” You screamed. The sun already rose, the bright light piercing your eyes as it shone through your dorm’s window.

You scrambled out of bed, it wasn’t like you to oversleep like this. But you had been up fairly late last night, studying for another class and must have accidentally slept through your alarm.

You rushed over to your closet, quickly grabbing hold to all your uniform items: your button up, white, collared top, your royal blue blazer, and your blue, plaid and pleated skirt to match.

You had nearly everything and was just about to make a run for it until you realized you didn’t have your stockings. Apparently you forgot to run down to the laundry room as well.

“Shit—“ You cursed under your breath, rummaging through your sock drawer. Luckily, you did end up finding a pair of white, thigh high socks.

They weren’t your first choice, considering how tight and uncomfortable they could get around your thighs in just a matter of seconds but it was no time to spare.

You hopped into both socks, pulling the fabric past your knees and letting them hug around the middle of your thighs. You scanned the room for your black mary janes, and stepped into both of them before running out the door.

*ೃ༄

Matt dragged his feet against the floor to the beat of the music blasting in his airpods— it was a miracle that his hearing was still in tact.

There was a tired, dead look in his eyes as he slowly made his way towards the flight of stairs. He was already 20 minutes late to class, what’s a few more?

The halls were empty as the rest of the student body were hidden away in the various closed classrooms.

That was until you suddenly peered around the corner, startling him.

“What the fuck?!” The harsh words tumbling out from his mouth before he could properly process who you were and why the hell you were running down the hall.

He scanned you from head to toe as he took one of his airpods out, noticing that you traded your usual black stockings for some white knee high socks.

Hot. He thought to himself, getting an eyeful at the plush skin of your thighs practically spilling out from the soft fabric.

Something only a pervert would notice right away.

“Move, Matt.” You huffed out, nearly out of breath from all the sprinting you’ve done this morning.

You nudged him with your arm, pushing him out of your pathway and darted up the stairs.

“You know we’re going to the same place, right?” Matt mumbled, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs.

You stop dead in your tracks, clutching onto the straps of your tote bag as you slowly turned around. You gave him an icy, cold glare as if he were transparent.

“Your point?” You ask in an obviously annoyed tone.

“No need to push, is all.” Matt shrugged with a stupid grin plastered across his face. “It’s not like the class is going anywhere.”

“Whatever.” You sighed out, quickly regretting engaging in a pointless conversation with this idiot. You quickly turned around and started making your way up the stairs.

Your heels clicked against each step and your skirt bounced with each movement you made— exposing just the slightest bit of your white panties that squeezed deliciously around the curves of your hips and ass.

He may not have been motivated to go to class before but he certainly was now. His footsteps matched your frantic ones as he followed you up the stairs, his eyes never leaving from your skirt as you continued to be completely oblivious.

It wasn’t until the two of you made it to the top of the stairs when his inappropriate comment made realize he had been staring the entire time.

“White, huh?” He smirked, putting his airpod back in his ear.

Your mouth fell open and your heart pounded in your chest. Your fingers acting on instinct, immediately tugging at the hem of your skirt to pull it down to cover yourself. But the two of you knew it was already too late for that— Matt saw just about everything.

“Perv!” You shouted, your voice laced with embarrassment.

“Been called worse.” Matt teased as he dug his hands into his pant pockets.

“You’re horrible.” You continued.

“Yeah, yeah. Ladies first.” Matt replied, gesturing his head towards the classroom door.

You roll your eyes at his false flattery as he opened the door for you— just to steal another glimpse of your ass as you walked into the classroom.

*ೃ༄

“I’m sorry,” You repeat in shock, “You want me to do what?”

“I want you to partner up with Matthew Sturniolo for this project.” Your professor calmly repeated herself. “I know he is a bit… troubled— but I think having a positive influence like you in his life will change him for the better.”

You glanced over at the brunette from across the classroom. No way your grade was in jeopardy because of that moron. You let out a sigh before bringing your attention back to your professor.

“I will try my best.” You reply with a faint smile.

Your professor beamed with joy over your compassion, little did you know that you were the only student that was willing to assist Matt with his issues.

She handed you a thick stack of papers that were filled with the requirements for the project. You glanced over them as you slowly made your way back to your seat, Matt of course being right behind you.

“What’s that? Extra credit?” Matt asked, raising a brow.

“I wish.” You huffed out, turning around to face him, “It’s a project that you and I have to work on… together.”

“Says who?” Matt laughed.

“Says my grade! You’re not gonna fuck this up for me.” You snapped back.

“Alright, whatever, y/n.” He replied, throwing up his hands in defense. “What’s it even about?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t looked over it yet.” You reply, glancing back down to the stapled sheets of paper.

“When is it due?” Matt asked, taking advantage of the dramatic height difference the elevated seating gave him as he shamelessly looking down your shirt. He wasn’t able to see much because of how tightly you buttoned your top and blazer but just the mere thought of your tits pressing up against your clothes had blood rushing down to his dick.

“Friday.” You reply, looking up into his eyes. “What are you doing later?”

“Why? Finally coming to your senses?” He teased, you rolled your eyes.

“To work on the project, dumbass.” You scoffed, quickly shutting down his advances.

“Mhm.” Matt hummed, resting his chin in his hand as he peered down at you— loving the way your round eyes gazed up at him. “But to answer your question, no. I was gonna head back to my dorm after this.”

“Okay.” You continued, “I have other places be soon but I can meet you somewhere later… say 2:00?”

“Why not your dorm?” Matt grinned, causing yet another eye roll from you.

“My roommate doesn’t like people over.” You reply, “Plus you do weird shit. I don’t want you knowing which dorm I stay in.”

Matt’s tongue clicked against his teeth, making a tsk sound before he replied, “What about my dorm then?”

You took a moment to process what he said. At least this way he wouldn’t know which dorm you stayed in, but on the other hand you would be subjected to the living quarters of the biggest pervert you know.

But your grade was in jeopardy. You couldn’t let this mindless dimwit be the cause of that.

“Fine.” You say getting up from your seat. Matt watched as you put your supplies into your tote, “No weird shit, though.”

“Yes ma’am.” Matt joked.

*ೃ༄

Your heels clicked against the polished floor. Your eyes constantly flickering and scanning ever corner in the empty hallway. It had been your first time not only seeing but physically being in the men’s dorms.

Your tote bag hung from your shoulder, swaying against your hips with each timid step you took. You hugged your white binder close to your chest, anxiously digging your nails into the edges.

Many thoughts circled through your mind— thoughts that had taken a sharp left turn that you’d never admit aloud.

Half of you had hoped that Matt’s little “troubled bad boy” act was just a facade in hopes to getting some attention. But the other half of you had hoped for the opposite.

You couldn’t help but imagine what his stubble would feel like as it brushed against your inner thighs as he went down on you. You wondered if he was skilled with his tongue, hoping for the best.

You also fantasized about how it would feel for his large, rough hands wrapped around your throat or squeezing your waist. For his soft lips pressing hungry kisses into your skin, leaving marks in only places the two of you could see.

Your stomach fluttered getting lost in your lustful thoughts. What was the probability of all that happened?

Slim to none. You thought to yourself. Besides you weren’t meeting him at his dorm for sex. You both had a project to get done and meeting him here just so happened to be the best location.

“Nothing more, nothing less.” You whispered aloud, trying to convince your own mind of the fact. But your body was a dead give away, it yearned for Matt’s touch.

A shaky sigh fell past your lips, as you stopped dead in your tracks. There you were, standing face to face in front of Matt’s dorm— room 444.

You hesitated at first, wondering if you were making some sort of mistake by coming here, but eventually decided to lightly tap on the wooden door twice.

Your heart raced as you heard his footsteps quickly approach the door, being met by the brunette when he swiftly swung it open.

Your eyes scanned him; his hair a bit of a tangled mess, his popped collar on his grey button up, his leather belt wrapped around his waist, all topped off with black forces.

“Hey.” Matt spoke, his voice low and raspy. The vibrations in his voice sent shivers down your spine, nearly making your legs go weak— it was definitely going to be a tough project to focus on.

*ೃ༄

The two of you were sitting on his bed, your binder spread open and various documents scattered across his dark bed sheets. You sat with your legs tightly crossed, nonverbally sending a message to Matt’s perverted eyes. But that didn’t stop him from stealing a few glances.

In fact, your actions only excited him even more— this way he was able to take advantage of his very vivid imagination.

Matt let out a thrawt sigh, quickly becoming overstimulated as he listened to you ramble on and on about the project. The last 30 minutes seemed to drag on for ages and it was purely torture for him.

“Y/n, y/n. Please, no more.” The brunette groaned as he threw his head back towards the headboard, his adam’s apple protruding out as he spoke.

Your brows knitted together, rolling your eyes at his carelessness.

“Whatever, I’ll just end up doing it myself.” You tsk, stacking the documents back together neatly and placing them into the silver hooks in your binder.

Matt’s head shot back up, watching you quickly pack up your belongings. You swung your tote over your shoulder and leapt down from his bed.

“Wait.” He finally spoke as if you could read his mind that begged you not to leave. His palm wrapped around your forearm, gently holding you in place.

“You clearly don’t want to help me, so—“ You began to say before he cut you off.

“No, it’s not like that. I just—“ Matt interrupted, only to trail off the last few words when his eyes met your cold stare that saw right through his bullshit excuse. “—well, yeah…”

“My point exactly.” You reply. “So I might as well just leave.”

“I still want you to stay.” Matt spoke, nearly inaudible. You had never seen him such a state before; almost desperate. Surely your presence wasn’t that important to him. Or was it?

“To do what?” You say, turning back around so that your body faced his.

His hand dropped from your arm, bring his hand up to sheepishly comb through his locks, “To get to know you.”

“To get to know me?” You repeated with a sly grin, a hint of flirtation laced in your voice.

“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged. “You can ask me shit too, I don’t care. I just want you here with me.”

You contemplated in your head whether it was best to leave or stay.

On one hand you’d get to explore this new side of Matt you had never seen before. But, on the other hand you would be exposing yourself to the biggest pervert on campus. Talk about reputation.

“Come on, please.” Matt fake pouted as he tapped his hand onto the bed, gesturing for you to come sit next to him.

Your legs moved on their own as if they were meant to follow every command that rolled off his tongue.

His lips curled up into a pleases smirk, watching you give into his request. You huffed, dropping your tote down to the floor and climbing back into his bed.

Your ass arched up as your knees sank down into the plush mattress when you climbed over his lap. You could feel his eyes piercing your skin, but at this point it would be strange if he hadn’t stared.

“Why do you do that?” You say, plopping down next to him, your back pressed into his white walls.

“Do what?” Matt replied, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Stare.” You mumbled. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you looking at my ass. Boobs too.”

All he could do is smile and throw his hands up in defense, “I mean, what can I say? I’m just a man after all.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, rolling your eyes at his redundant answer.

“That’s like asking you why do you eat.” He rambled. “You’re hot, so why wouldn’t stare? I just can’t help myself.”

You pressed your thighs together, beaming at the compliment hidden in his lewd choice of words.

“Besides, I can’t get in any trouble if I just look.” He continued.

“So… you can look but not touch? That’s the thing you got going on for me?” You reply.

“Precisely.” He smirked, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicker down to your breast before having the audacity to look back into your eyes. But this time you didn’t feel offended, if anything you were flattered.

A tingling sensation surged all through out your body, immediately traveling down below. A pool a heat bubbled between your legs as a faint pulse began to ache from your core.

“You know what that sounds like?” You smirked.

“What?” He asked.

“A pervert.” You teased, nudging his arm with yours.

Matt laughed off your little joke at first and paused a bit before finally asking, “Does it make you feel uncomfortable?”

You looked down at your hands, your ears growing hot with embarrassment as you fidgeting around with the sleeves of your blazer.

“Not always.” You muttered, bringing your eyes back up to his. Matt’s eyes were now hungry and full of desire; it took every fiber in his being to not pounce on you right then.

It wasn’t everyday where he had the girl he had obsessed over right in arm’s reach.

“What about now?” Matt mumbled.

“Touch me and find out.” You reply, inching closer towards him.

His face twisted in confusion, completely taken away at your sudden change of heart. He had grown accustomed to you turning down all of his sexual advances and here you were sitting up in his bed asking him to touch you. It was truly a dream come true for Matt; and he was going to be sure to savor this moment for the rest of his life.

He hesitated in the beginning, not sure if this was just one of your tricks. But he finally gave into the burning urge that welled inside him.

Your breath hitched feeling his finger tips gently brush against your thighs, slowly adding pressure as he palmed your plush skin through your high thighs.

You kept your eyes on his curious hand; slowly inching closer towards the hem of your skirt. His thumb traces soft circles into your flesh as he gaze you a slight squeeze.

His eyes flickered up to yours, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled.

Matt scooted closer towards you as if there were some magnetic pull between the two of you. His cologne filling up your nose as he positioned his head between your neck and shoulder, pressing warm kisses along the sensitive bits.

“Matt.. oh, God.” You whined, as he sank his teeth down into your flesh. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer towards him as the other snaked its way under your skirt.

Your breaths became heavy and uneven, taking in the way his mouth sucked on the nape of your neck; surely leaving an embarrassing mark to hide later.

But you didn’t care. All you could think about was Matt and the way he was touching you. Along with the many other things you craved that only he could provide.

A broken moan fell past your lips as you felt the pads of his fingers slowly circle your clit through your panties. Gently caressing you down to your entrance, the fabric already damp with your juices; you could feel Matt smirking against your skin with a breathy laugh before bringing his head back up to look into your eyes.

“Still okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” You reply in a husky breath. “Keep touching me.” You continued, cupping your delicate hands around his rough stubble.

You pulled him towards your lips, drawing him into a heated, desperate kiss. His lips made love to yours as if you were the only source of water left on the planet.

You yelped as Matt’s gripped both of your hips and pulled you up onto his lap, still keeping the kiss intact. He took the opportunity to slither his tongue past your lips, intertwining his with yours.

His tongue quickly dominated yours, allowing him to explore each part of your mouth. You whined into his mouth, feeling the bulge in his slacks pressed against your ass.

The two of your lips continued smacking together, as your curious hands traveled from his cheeks down to his collaring. Your fingers toying with the buttons, quickly unfastening them to rip him out of clothing.

He leaned in towards you, helping you remove the sleeves before tossing it onto the floor near your tote. You pulled away from his lips, a thin trail of your saliva mixed together connected to your lips.

Your eyes quickly averted down to his sleeve tattoos, your curious hand grazing over the ink of the various markings he had.

Your heart raced with excitement, how many other things had you not known about Matt?

“I thought tattoos were against school policy.” You muttered, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Can’t clock what they don’t see.” He smirked. “Scary, huh?”

“Shut up.” You whispered, a flustered expression written all over your face.

“It’s okay to be scared, princess.” Matt replied, bringing his hands down to your ass.

Your heart fluttered at the nickname he gave you, desperately waiting for the next time he’d say it.

“I’m not scared.” You reply, putting emphasis on the word.

“Oh yeah?” Matt teased. “Even when I do this?” His fingers sliding down to your stomach, unhooking the silver buttons to your blazer. You watched him slowly peel off your clothing, tossing it away.

“No.” You whispered, your breaths getting heavier by the second.

“You sure? I can feel you trembling.” Matt laughed, only to get playfully punched in the arm again. “Sorry, sorry.”

You let out a sigh, feeling his fingers loop underneath the buttons of your top, slowly stripping you down to your matching white bra. You wrapped your hands around your back, unhooking your bra; revealing your breasts to him.

Matt could hardly wait— already attacking your chest with kisses before your bra even hit the floor.

“Shit—“ You gasped, feeling his hands roam all over your body. He took one of your tits into his mouth, his tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine.

Your shuddered in his arms as you combed your fingers through his soft hair, giving the strands an occasional tug every now and then. Which caused him to grunt against your skin.

Your body curled in towards him as he switched his attention to your other breast, giving it the same amount of love. Your hips rocked into his, attempting to get even the smallest bit of friction against your core.

After a few moments, Matt finally unlatched from you and looked up at you with eyes full of desire.

Your eyes flickered down to the growing tent in his pants. Your hand instinctively palming him through the soft fabric. He winced feeling your fingertips brush against his length, little had you known how much he yearned for the very moment.

Your fingers slid up to the zipper of his pants, slowly pulling it down. Matt’s hips lifted up from the mattress, assisting you to set his aching member free.

His fingers slipped past the elastic waistband of his briefs, eagerly pulling them down past his waist. Your eyes widened as you watched his cock spring out, slapping against his stomach.

The tip of his dick flushed a rosy pink hue that matched his flustered cheeks. A bit of precum oozing out from the tip and slowly trickling down one of his thick, prominent veins. His member twitched with excitement, as he watched your flustered reaction.

Before you could form a sentence his lips were back on yours, another eager and intoxicating kiss that set your body a blaze. His hands slithered up your skirt once more, grabbing the waistband of your panties and pulling them down past your knees.

You helped him get them completely off by lifting up one of yours from the bed— unaware that he had them hidden just behind his pillow for another time.

You sat back down his lap, only this time there weren’t anymore barriers between both of your most sensitive parts.

He tilted his head in the opposite direction, deepening the kiss as he lifted you up by your ass, hovering you just above the tip of his dick.

Your arms draped around his shoulders as he lined himself with your entrance. A series of whimpered spewed out from you and Matt caught each one, still keeping the kiss in tact as you swallowed his dick whole.

“Matt—“ You sighed, feeling his balls press up against your ass you sat down completely on his lap. You hugged him closely, pressing your bare chest against his, hiding your flustered face in the crook of his neck. “—so big.”

“Yeah? Can’t wait to stretch this pussy out, princess.” Matt huffed out, grabbing a handful of your ass. He pressed various kisses along your shoulders, slurring his speech a bit as he continued, “You feel like a dream.”

You kept your face hidden but the sounds of your sweet cries were enough for Matt; being buried inside your cunt after all this time was just enough for him. He slowly began bucking his hips up into you, the sound of your arousal was music to his ears as your squelched with each thrust.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good, baby.” Matt muttered, kissing your cervix with each move he made.

“Oh, God.” You whined in his ear, your nails digging into his back. “Just like that.”

Your warm, velvety walls hugged around his dick in all the right ways. Your pussy acted as a suction cup as if it were tailored just for him to suck the life out of his body.

He could spend hours— days even— inside you if you’d let him. But knowing you, you’d probably like to pretend all this never happened.

He wasn’t ready to snap back into reality just yet. Matt knew he had to take his time and savor this moment.

The bed creaked as Matt changed positions, gently pressing you down into the mattress as he hovered on top of you. His palms flattened against the back of your thighs, pushing your legs closing towards your chest.

Your tits squeezed together, bouncing each time his harsh thrusts met your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Squeezing around me so good.” He groaned. “Needed your pussy so bad.”

“Matt!” You screamed, knowing for a fact the other people in the dorms would hear.

Matt only continued shoving his dick further inside you as he pushed your legs back as far as they’d go.

Your legs trembled in his hands as his hips began to stutter. Your hands wrapped around your thighs, your fingers on top of his as you screwed your eyes shut.

Your clit ached and your walls tightened around his cock— you were so close.

“Cumming!” You wailed, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Do it. Cum for me, sweetheart.” Matt groaned, his finger tips digging into your thighs as he crashed his pelvis into you.

Your moans got louder and higher as you quickly approached your orgasm, soon releasing your juices all over him. Leaving his dick soaked with your arousal.

“Such a good girl, shit—“ Matt choked out, as he fucked you through your orgasm, using your cum as an extra lubricant. “Where do you want—“

“Inside!” You begged, before he could even form the sentence. “Please, Matt.”

His dick throbbed against your walls as he picked up the speed of his hips. Grunts spewing out from the brunette’s lips as he kept feeding you with lewd praises.

It wasn’t long before a loud, “Fuck!” came out of him as he splurged all of his cum deep inside you; filling you to the brim.

“Oh my God.” You sighed in attempt to catching your breath. Your eyes fluttered open, watching him slowly drag his dick out from you.

📃 — taglist!

@bluesturniolo333 , @sturniolotripletsarehot , @cupidtoast , @mattsbratt , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mysterioussmae , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @kvtie444 , @iwantyoualloverme12 , @sturniolosreads , @gamermattsgf , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @sturnfix , @kxnzxx , @sturniolowhore

©️ LUV4KOZUME 🦢

Navigation! ‧₊˚🥂✩ ₊

#luv4kozume #💌 — request!#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #🏹 — bad boy!

2K notes · View notes

bluejutdae · 3 months

Text

• Stray Kids as very specific vibes | OT8

Chan: brushing your teeth side by side, making sure the other sleeps enough, late night city dates, plaids, dimples, racing each other on the street, spraying perfume on pillow cases, trying new stuff, 3 am runs at the grocery store, trust, last minute flights, glass clinking, lightnings, early morning fog.

Minho: reading books to each other, cat cafés, cooking together, the crackling of the fireplace, the first snow of the season, camping and fishing, quiet acts of service, giving each others silly gifts, cats stickers all over the house, warm blankets and cups of tea.

Changbin: vanilla scented candles, gym dates, sharing food, laughing carelessly, meeting the families, kissing on the shoreline, summer days, sea salt on your skin, warm hands, blowing on birthday candles, quality time, feeling safe, warm bathrobes, the smell of fresh laundry.

Hyunjin: paint stains, oversized shirts, matching nail polish, staring into each other's eyes, waking up in the middle of the night, heart wrenching movies, holding hands, whispers at night, talking about true love, soulmates, words of affirmations, sharing a blanket, museum dates.

Jisung: hysteric laughing, iced americanos, playing catch, fixing hair behind the ear, sharing earrings, falling asleep on the floor, neon lights, chapped lips and bitten nails, sharing earbuds, calming tones, shaking hands, goodnight pecks, dreaming of flying, Icarus poems, silver jewelry.

Felix: late night train rides, sitting on a car roof to watch the sun rise, the fresh water of a pool, the relaxing presence of your best friend, videogames, arcades games, golden hour, pretty smiles, silly tattoos, sharing playlists, trying new food, learning to braid hair.

Seungmin: study dates, white and baby blue flowers, coffee stained pages, journals and diaries, house keys, silly key chains, good morning videocalls, matching outfits, the warm wind on a summer night, the smell of oranges in the air, the feeling of belonging, tight hugs.

Jeongin: the glint of the snow, cold hands around warm chocolate, daily outfit pics, playgrounds, pranks, sharing secrets, watching reality shows, watching the full moon, counting stars, no fear of being judged, first love, setting goals, singing out loud into fake microphones.

748 notes · View notes

1eoness · 11 months

Text

professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 19-20 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon:( ♡

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #guys im sorry if my writing is pretty vague idfk lmao #re4remake leon smut #THIS IS SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut

3K notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 11 days

Text

the verbal thing comes and goes

Summary: eddie's first study(ing) date with an appearance from hawkins own lothario.

Warnings: eddie’s senior year 2.0, no Upside Down, scary smart debate team captain reader, NHS president and tutor nancy wheeler, ap music theory nerd and general nuisance robin buckley, pretentiousness alert - you have been warned!

W.C.: 1973

Eddie’s early, for once in his life.

He stands on the Wheeler’s doorstep worrying the strap of his backpack with his thumb. It’s Thursday, and he’s nearly done with his second read-through of Notes from the Underground. Turns out, reading Russian literature and annotating it at the same time is a bit of a commitment. So much so, that scribbling in his Hellfire notebook has fallen by the wayside.

He has highlighters now (yes, plural); who the fuck does he think he is?!

A guy who wants to stay in the same English class as you, that’s who.

Which brings us to his earlier than usual arrival for the study group.

He pushes the doorbell and hears the chimes clang from inside the house. There’s a bit of grime on his cuticles, he’d been fucking with an oil change for the van a few hours ago. Luckily, there’s not a smear of brackish fluid left on the pristine white button.

Mike loafs to the door and opens it with his usual fanfare, which is to say, none.

“What’re you doing here?”

“You mean at your house? Where your sister is? Who’s in my group for this English project?”

Each rhetorical question brings Eddie incrementally closer to Mike and inside the house, who backs away slowly, dead eyed stare and all.

“Psh, get outta my face twerp.” Eddie says, ruffling Mike’s stupidly long hair.

The door shuts behind him and Mike inclines his head toward the stairs, “Think they’re waiting on Buckley, you can head on up.”

Mr. Wheeler grunts in agreement from his lay-z-boy recliner in the living room.

Briefly, he wonders if he should take off his shoes. There’s a pile by the door and carpeted stairs, even Mike is wandering around in socks. And Eddie doesn’t want to be rude, or responsible for whatever mud he’s probably tracking in.

After toeing off his Reeboks, he takes the stairs two at a time and follows the sound of voices down the hall.

It’s an idyllic scene.

Namely, that Nancy has one of the most certifiably girly rooms Eddie has ever had the misfortune to see. But also, that you’re seemingly dressed in pajamas which consist of men’s plaid boxers, socks scrunched around your ankles, and an oversized t-shirt with a warped Tweety Bird face plastered on it. Your hair is up and off your shoulders, tied back with an obnoxiously bright scrunchie, and your face is freshly scrubbed.

It looks like a sleepover, if the legends are true, but neither you nor Nance are currently jumping on her bed and hitting each other in slow motion with pillows, a dusting of goose feathers filling the air.

“Hey Munson,” you greet, patting the spot next to you, “Take a load off.”

Well, shit, he’s certainly got a load alright.

He slings his bag to the floor and leans back against the foot of Nancy’s bed, taking a seat next to you.

“Didn’t realize this would be an all nighter Wheeler.”

Nancy glances up from her notes at your soft laugh. But before she can reply, there’s a clatter from below and Mike bellowing something about food.

“Oh, Rob must be here,” she says with a smile. “She said she was bringing pizzas or something.”

The three of you make your way down to the kitchen, where Robin has been cornered by Mrs. Wheeler. Her blue eyes are wide as she clutches the edge of the pizza boxes, nodding along politely with whatever Nancy’s mom is going on about.

“Oh Bucks,” Eddie says, swooping in to take a box before she can crush it, “For me? You shouldn’t have!”

Robin looks relieved, mouths thank you from where she’d been stopped by the counter. She’s just come from her job at Family Video and is still wearing the stupid vest to prove it. It’s got cheesy buttons like ask me about our newest releases! and Eddie has half a mind to do so.

That is before Steve Harrington comes swanning into the room with a few cans of soda. He stops short, surprised with Eddie’s presence at the Wheeler’s kitchen table. But then you trot in the room, lost in conversation with Nance and he sees Steve’s eyes blow wide as a blush warms his cheeks.

He’s looking at you because of course he is. The universe can’t seem to cut Eddie a break without throwing King Steve a bone(r).

It’d be comical if it wasn’t so typically teenage tragic.

For Eddie, that is.

“Oh, uh, h-hi,” Steve stammers in greeting, “I just grabbed whatever since I didn’t know what you’d like.”

It’s all Eddie can do not to roll his eyes.

Buckley had mentioned Steve not having as much swagger with the ladies as of late, but damn, Eddie didn’t think he’d have to witness it.

Still, it’s not as though he feels sorry for the guy.

Not when you give Steve a smile in thanks, but nudge Eddie’s shoulder with your hip.

“Outta my spot Munson.”

The contact of your thinly veiled hip against his jacket has got him spinning. If he wasn’t wearing the damned thing, he could’ve felt the warmth from your skin. He grunts and shoves over, sticking to monosyllables until he can get himself together.

Mrs. Wheeler eyes him briefly before stepping out of the room, a lingering glance that says watch yourself as she settles in the living room.

Seated around the table, various hands grab for slices of pizza that land in greasy splotches on paper plates. Robin is talking a mile a minute about someone who returned Fast Times stopped at a very pivotal point in the film.

Steve rolls his eyes and pops the tab of his soda. Leaving Eddie to beg Mike’s earlier question:

“What’re you doin’ here?”

This said between bites of pizza, stringy cheese decorating his lips. Spying his predicament, you toss a paper towel at his face and continue listening to Robin’s tales of Family Video.

“Could ask you the same,” Steve replies with a measured tone.

“English project.” Eddie pauses to take a swig of Mountain Dew, “Now you, Harrington.”

“Rob doesn’t drive, so I dropped her off.”

“Dropping off implies leaving, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He’s adopted a curt tone, as if he’s offended by Eddie’s rationale. So he decides to drop it for now.

And sure enough, Steve eventually does leave. Right after hauling in Robin’s overstuffed backpack and trumpet.

Eddie notices how Steve’s eyes linger on you, flitting to and fro, and tries to tamp down the roil of jealousy in his gut.

It’s only once the group is back upstairs and working on the project, the door minduflly cracked open at Mrs. Wheeler’s behest, that he feels himself relax. After all, he can’t dedicate too much of his time to feeling like a possessive meathead with Nancy delegating.

Currently, you’re all huddled over your novels and passing around copies of notes on each text. Nancy’s are neat and tidy, Robin’s are a downright mess, but yours are something else. Color-coded with a key in the upper right-hand corner of the page, not a smear of ink to be found. It’s like the Holy Grail of notes.

They also smell faintly of your perfume.

Eddie’s notes aren’t as batshit as Robin’s, but there are plenty of sketches to be found in the margins. He hopes they’re acceptable, he’s never really willingly taken notes over a book before. Much less, painstakingly copied three sets of said notes for distribution.

He’s more familiar with a different type of distribution.

Speaking of which:

“Shit, I gotta go.”

He hastily packs his bag while Nancy lists off his task for the project. You’ll see each other in class, obviously, but there won’t be another study session until next week. NHS is rolling out their individual tutorials, and she’s got stuff for the school paper. Debate team meets weekly for practice in addition to their class, you’ve got to start prep for research on a few topics. Robin has band shit and life shit, as she calls it, so everyone is pretty much swamped until then.

Even Eddie, with his tutoring from Nancy and Hellfire meetings and Corroded Coffin practices and shows. And, apparently, there’s another meeting with Mrs. Meloy next week to see how he’s “adjusting.”

He says his goodbyes quickly and dashes down the stairs, surprised to hear the sound of you behind him. He turns, tugging on his shoes, inquiring, “Nance forget to tell me something?”

You smile with a shake of your head, “Nah, just thought I’d see you off.”

“Ah, yeah. Prime time for creeps, good lookin’ out.”

He gets a laugh out of you, which lights something in his chest with a dull warm glow. Shouldering his backpack, he makes way for you to open the door and follows you onto the porch.

The last of the summer sun eeks across the sky leaving bands of creamsicle orange and pink behind. You glance up, exposing the delicate tendons of your neck, the elegant slope of it. And it’s all he can do not to press his lips to the sweat gathering in the hollow of your throat.

Eddie clears his throat instead and stands there awkwardly as you enjoy the summer evening. The air is humid, and a dampness permeates the otherwise pleasant moment. You sigh softly, having taken your fill of the sky for now, and turn your gaze to him.

He feels like an ant under a magnifying glass might, not used to the attention and fearful of what’s to come.

“I expected you would’ve called by now,” you say casually, with a fond pull of your lips, “But you’re just full of surprises Munson.”

He scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the pavement and shyly glances down. He notices the weight of his bag now, the sweat beginning to bead along his skin. It’s uncomfortable and his van is within sight, he’s so close and yet so far.

All because you’re staring at him, attempting to have a conversation with the guy who said he doesn’t read much and yet had some of the finest penmanship and annotations you’d ever seen littered all across your copy of Dune.

He’s surprising and you like surprises well enough, but Eddie is becoming more and more of a mystery to you which is somehow even more appealing.

Of course, he knows none of this.

All he knows is that a pretty girl in a Tweety Bird shirt and boxers is looking at him with a secret smile on her face, and he feels like he’s hurtling toward oblivion or humiliation.

“Maybe I lost the note?”

Lies. It’s squirreled away in his most prized possession, a battered copy of Tolkein’s Fellowship of the Ring.

“How tragic,” you tease, “If only we had been taught to memorize things like phone numbers and addresses.”

“Yeah, that would be something.”

You laugh, “Oh, wait. Lucky for you I have it right here.” You tap your temple with a manicured nail, and pull a face as if you’re about to snarl but your eyes are bright and teasing.

“Look,” Eddie says, a laugh falling from his lips, “Maybe I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Oh really,” you drawl, arms snaking across your chest. “When a pretty, smart girl gives you her number and offers up her time and expertise, you, Eddie Munson, think twice?”

“Generally, from past experience, yes.”

You kiss your teeth and let out a soft tsk. “Well, don’t.”

“Think?”

The smile you give him could launch a thousand ships.

“About this? Not even once.”

And with that, you turn on your heel and walk back into the Wheeler’s house leaving him dazed and more than a little confused.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #fic: ibciyd #eddie munson fluff

169 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 4 months

Text

Your Mark On Me, Part 10

Summary: it is time

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, face riding, pinching, anal play, exhibition, branding, pussy worship, loss of innocence, dirty talk, dumbifiction, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.3K

Series Masterlist

*Tattoo edit by @randomagnes0210

*Divider created by @firefly-graphics

“Steve,” a giggle mixed with a whimper calls out. Lifting up your skirt you smile down at the menace underneath you. Steve is devouring the honey between your legs with his hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. “Captain, can you breathe?”

His crystal blue eyes look up at you annoyed, giving your bundle of nerves a nibble. When your body quivers, and you bite at your lip, he laughs over your core. His tongue laves up your essence. He needed to be calmed down before he was marked. And this was his method of choice. Drowning in you.

“There’s no way you’re getting…oxygen,” your words come out laborious, and he pulls you down tighter against him. Sliding his hands up to your tits, he pinches your pebbled peaks. Chuckling when your body starts to grind over him.

Closing your eyes you look up at the ceiling. Steve is a big boy, and if he needs air, he’ll figure it out. This feels amazing. He is obsessed with giving you pleasure. Making sure that you are fully satiated, and still you held out on what he wanted the most. It made him more loyal, and somehow more dangerously protective of you.

Bringing his right hand up to your mouth, he pushes two fingers past your swollen lips. Letting you suck on his digits. Muffled moans fill his office, and you want, no you need more. Mumbling over his beefy fingers, he pulls them out of your mouth, “Captain!” But the descent doesn’t stop. The wet appendages travel to your backside, playing around with your puckered hole.

Steve studies your face as he adds pressure, “Captain, I want to feel you,” it’s all it takes before he breaks through the muscled entrance, and you strangle out his name. Legs trembling, and your body turns to mush. “Steve! Steve!”

He doesn’t stop when your body succumbs to the pleasure. He pushes you well past your orgasm. Pulling out another high so quickly you start to buck on top of him. Thighs tightening around his face as you scream out again. Every muscle quivering and leading you deeper into your pleasure.

“Steve,” Sam stands in the doorway. Cursing out loud when he realizes he wasn’t actually hurting you. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Steve’s head pokes out from between your thighs, smiling over at Sam. Pulling his fingers out of your bum, he gives your ass a few taps. “She did so good. Little bird, do you think you need a nap before you burn my skin?”

“How about you cover her tits up. You would want a fantasy of a plaid skirt on top of your face. Dove, honey, cover yourself up.”

“Hey, Sammy,” you dopily smile, as you roll off Steve, joining him on the floor. Cuddling up tight to his body and hiding your bare chest. “My Captain is going to look so pretty with my lips right here,” reaching up, you give him a kiss to his neck, and then pull his face over to look at you before he crashes his mouth into yours.

Tasting his stout beer mixed with you. The flavors that Steve’s mouth wanted the most. “A bunch of damn kids. That’s what you two are. At least get her dressed,” Steve’s body rolls over on top of yours, and he rolls his pelvis into your swollen cunt. His favorite sound is your little shocked whimper. You need him as much as he needs you. You had waited long enough and now ached for him.

“Steve! You have a meeting with Loki!”

“That’s right,” he pops up, looking over at Sam. “Do I have time for her to suck my cock?”

“You’ve got three minutes,” he says, closing the door.

“You want to sit with my cock in your mouth while I conduct the meeting?” You shake your head no, a glint of something in your eyes, “No?”

“I don’t like him. He hurt me.”

“Under my orders.”

“And he didn’t even hesitate.”

“None of them do. Hesitation gets you killed. Dovey, come on, keep my cock warm with your mouth.”

“No. I want you hurting when I finally let you have my pussy,” you giggle when he playfully smacks your face. “Let me up. I’m going to go in the back and shower. I’ve got a sexy little dress I want to wear for you.”

“No. I don’t want you to change too much for this, Dovey. You’re sexy with your little skirts already. I want you as you. Now go on, get out of here before Loki sees you. I need to mention how he went too deep on your tattoo though,” your head shakes back in forth in protest, and he twists his head to look at you.

“No. Don’t mention me at all. I’ll see you in a bit, Captain,” fuck. Steve mutters as you walk away. Getting right to the door, you pull up your skirt to flash him your ass. Little tease. He wouldn’t mention you to Loki this time, since he gave you his word. But he did want to talk about the extra pain he caused you. And tonight, he would be the one in the relationship carrying the pain.

It’s how he wanted it. He always wanted to carry the pain. You should never suffer. And he would make sure that he would hold the burden of your pain. Because you were his. Finally.

“You want me to what?” Your eyes shine up at Steve, and you look over to Sam. They were both insane. You didn’t want to do that. Rubbing your finger over the spot you had chosen for Steve’s brand, you shake your head no. “I don’t want to.”

“You will,” Steve answers with as much authority as he can. “You wanted this.”

“No, you made me make that decision. I don’t…why does it have to be me that causes you pain?” The back of his knuckles slowly caresses your cheek as your bottom lip puckers out. Your sweet face all pitiful and scared is his favorite drug. He wanted more, even if it gave him pain. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re the only one that can, and not die.”

“Steve! That’s not even funny. Why does it have to be me? You didn’t tattoo me, you held me down. So I think it’s only fair that I hold you down. And…Steve, I don’t want to hurt you. Please, don’t make me do this,” burying your face in his neck, he holds you tightly. Clinging to you.

You and that word ‘please’. It made him melt every time. He’d bend down to his knees just to hear you utter that word. But coupled with your pitiful voice makes it so much harder for him to resist. “Fine. Sam can brand me. You sit in my lap, and don’t let move.”

“Promise?” You sniffle on him, refusing to lean back and let him see you. He could make you change your mind if he really wanted to, and you didn’t want him to do that. You had to stand your ground when it came to him. You need a voice in this relationship, too.

“Promise. Come on, get in my lap, Dovey,” his voice is like honey as he walks the two of you back to a chair. Looking over at Sam who rolls his eyes. “I won’t kill you, Sam. I just thought someone prettier was going to brand me, but if she needs to just sit in my lap and give me something to stare at that will be fine.”

“Dovey, you’re going to have to look at me, darling,” he’s about to be branded, and he’s the one talking you down. You have never heard him speak so gently. Like everything he is doing in this moment is to make you comfortable while a searing piece of metal was on his skin.

You finally lift off the confines of his neck, staring up at him while he situates you in his lap. Making you straddle him. Your arms drape over his shoulders for a moment while you look over his face. Starting to count every freckle that sprays over his nose. Leaning to kiss over the spot. His neck is as inky as the rest of his body. Soon a raised and scarred brand will sit there. Your lips will be permanently embedded on his skin.

Say what he wants, he loves you. Makes special allowances with you. Didn’t even think twice about them. While with others he’s harsh and all business. Even the way his thick hands are softly rubbing up your thighs and cupping each ass cheek starts to relax you. You were different for him. You know it. Could feel it, despite his claims. He was yours in every sense of the word, and one day, you would hear his voice tell you that.

He leans forward, pressing a soft peck to your lips. “I didn’t want ot make you cry this way, little bird. I wanted…”

“Shh, don’t ruin this moment. Are you ready, Captain?” His fingers dig into the globes of your rear end. Giving you a nod as he captures your sight. “Sam, we’re ready,” he clenches his teeth as Sam presses the scalding metal to his skin.

You put on a brave face, refusing to react to the stench of his burning skin. Not flinching when his fingers add bruises to your supple skin. You hold his sight, softly saying his name. Time is frozen. Feeling as if it lasts forever that the iron is on his skin. And Sam removes the tool, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Don’t look at his neck. Keep staring at him. His eyes are glossy, but he doesn’t cry. Doesn’t react. Never says a word, just keeps looking only at you. “That hurt like hell,” he chokes out. Loosening his grip as his hands slide up to your waist. “But nothing will hurt as much as losing you, Dovey.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Steve.”

“What am I saying?” His mouth turns up into a devilish grin.

You turn back to look at Sam, nodding your head, and turning back to Steve, “I think we’ll be okay, Sam. Steve may be busy for the next couple of days.”

“Yeah, I will,” he smarts back, and it earns him a swat to his chest. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to come back to the real world. You’re in charge, Samuel,” Sam leaves with a nod, and smiling more at you than Steve. “Dove, we need a bath.”

“What?” He pushes your legs off him, walking towards the bathroom, leaving you standing in the living room confused. You look towards the door to make sure it was locked, and the alarm had been set before you run through the events of the evening.

After he was branded you said you would give yourself to him, and after all this time he just wants to take a bath. That was it. No picking you up and throwing you on the bed. It was his time. And he just walked away. He…he is being extremely un-Steve like.

“Dovey!” His head peeks out of the master bedroom, giving you a dark look. “I said, let’s take a bath. I need you to tend to my wounds.”

“But…I thought.”

“Now, Dove,” standing in the doorway, he lets his pants and boxer briefs drop to the floor, and your mouth falls open. He isn’t even hard. “I have a burn on my neck. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged.”

Mind games. It was always mind games with Steve. He always makes you question things. Your feet start moving on their own accord, following your naked boyfriend into the bathroom. He turns to stare at you with a glint of…something in his eyes. He is unreadable most of the time, but right now he is frustrating.

“You gotta clean the area first. It’s going to scar, that’s the purpose. But I don’t want an infection. Mmm,” he hisses through his teeth as you start cleaning the skin. “That hurts worse than I expected. Dove is something wrong?”

“I just thought we would — you know?”

“Can’t even say the word, and you think I’m going to do something about it,” he clicks his tongue at you. Starting to shake his head, but winces instead. “I’m disappointed in you, Dovey. Where’s this fearless woman that demanded her lips be burnt on my neck?”

“But I told you that after you were branded that you could have me.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just smiles at you, while your mind is making up stupid scenarios of what is actually going on right now. When you finish bandaging him up, he turns the water on, pouring in oils and dried flowers into the bath before he stands behind you. His fingers roaming over your body. Soothing over your curves and kissing over your skin before pulling off your clothes.

His mouth peppers the sweetest kisses over your shoulders, and places a kiss right behind your ear, “I’ve always had you, Dovey,” once undressed he places you in the tub, and crawls into the opposite side, so he can face you.

“The moment you walked into my club looking all sweet and tender, needing just a few pills to keep you awake while you studied, I had you. I had you riding my thigh as Bucky watched you get off properly for the first time. Had you leaking all down my leg. All those times I watched you in class, while you slept, chased you through the woods by my playground, I had you. Dovey, you and I are completely bound together forever. Each of us marked with the other. But if you’re wanting something else, use your words like a big girl. What is it that you want?”

“I want you to have all of me.”

“Go on, explain yourself,” he settles back into the water, caging you in between his legs while his hands rub up and down your calves. The hands that you know have murdered countless people. Had sold drugs to even more. But on you, there’s a care that he can’t deny. He can command you, but his hands and his eyes say what his mouth refuses.

“I want you inside of me. Making love to me all night long.”

“Love, huh?” It’s cruel for him to say that word in such a snarky tone. He knows how much that word means to you.

His eyes coast down to the water, and you push your foot underneath his chin, making him look up at you. “Making love is something you’ve never done. We’ll both be each other’s first,” his mouth turns up into a genuine smile. Nothing hidden underneath. Just him. “I don’t need to hear it, Steve. I’m tired of asking. Even though I deserve to hear it, you’re telling me all I need to know.”

“Dovey, how are you feeling, little bird?”

“Like I want to feel my boyfriend’s entire weight on top of me,” pushing your legs out wide, he maneuvers himself to hover over you. Smiling and laughing when his nose presses up against yours. “That’s a start. Now kiss me,” his mouth slams into yours, giving no time before his greedy tongue slides over your lips.

The best part about Steve is he has no filter. He tells you exactly what he expects and what he’s thinking. But there is a tenderness to him tonight. Scraping your nails down his back, and settling at his round rump, you pull him closer to you. You don’t want any space between you. You want him inside of you. Over you. His skin to meld onto yours.

His hardened cock rubs up against your center. Releasing a whimper, Steve pulls off your lips to nip down the column of your neck. Blowing air over you damp skin, and you mewl, clinging onto his ass, needing him in ways you haven’t ever before. Desperation settles in, and you can’t even think straight.

“Easy, little bird,” he whispers on your body as his mouth moves to your shoulder. Open mouth kisses drift over your supple skin, leaving tiny bruises along the way. “You need to quit trying to force me into your cunt.”

“But Steve,” his head pops up to look at you, not in a menacing way, but to watch your sweet little pout. Noticing how your pupils are blown wide with lust, becoming glossy with your tears. “I need you.”

“Oh, my sweet little needy slut,” brushing the pads of his fingers over your cheek, your lip puckers out, and he leans over to bite it. “You’re such a brat.”

“But I’m your brat.”

Steve lets go of your lip. Rolling his hips, he makes you feel the weight of his giant cock floating just over where you need it. “You are my brat, my sweet little Dovey. Honey, what…” his word squeaks out, and you don’t notice it, only the feeling of his weight starting to settle over you. The spread of your legs to make sure he was fully over your body. “What…what do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me,” he sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “Steve, I’m ready.”

“As long as you realize you mean more to me than the flesh between your legs.”

“I know,” Steve plants one peck to your nose, looking at you with the sweetest smile. “Steve, I know.”

“And I’m not fucking you in the tub. I’m going to make love to you for the first time. In our bed,” he pulls the two of you up in the tub before lifting you out. Grabbing a towel to dry off your skin. Kneeling down to fully dry off your legs, and he kisses over your mound as he looks up at you. “I’m going to ruin you for other men.”

“I don’t want other men.”

“I know,” he answers softly. Sticking out his tongue he licks as much between your lips that he can. His lips leave a trail of kisses as he starts to stand. “I’m going to ruin you, and in doing that,” he pauses to grab both sides of your cheeks, and forcing you to look deep into his eyes, “You’ve already ruined me, Dovey.”

His hands move quickly to your sides. And he lifts you up, wrapping both your legs around him, and you whine feeling his throbbing cock. Carrying you into the bedroom, your legs hold him tighter as he crawls the two of you into the center of the bed, placing you down softly before he kisses over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

With each press of his lips you tremble more. Anticipation and a slight twinge of fear rumbles out of you, “Shh, Dovey, breathe, baby. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” his mouth hovers over your cunt, and he breathes in your scent. The most delectable taste. If he has to die, he hopes he dies with the taste of your cunt on his tongue.

Grazing his lips over your glistening folds, he chuckles, “Your dripping, Dovey,” reacting, your legs try to close, but he tsks you, moving them further apart. Bending your knees, he pushes your legs down on the bed. “Honey, quit biting your lip.”

“Why are you calling me, honey?” You feel the weight of his silky and heavy steel on you. Lifting up you look down at your body, chirping at how large he seems laying on your stomach. Viewing exactly how deep he’s going to be inside of you. “Steve,” he gives you a soft smile. Pushing back your baby hairs.

“Dovey, breathe. We don’t have to have sex.”

“Stop being so nice,” you squeak, feeling his piercing right over your clit when he shifts back. Torture. “I want you to destroy me.”

“I will. I need to know you’re ready.”

“What?” You look back up at him, and into his eyes. He is so close you can count every different color of blue and green that make up his irises. Sincerity. Nobody is around to see him being kind or soft. It is just you and him. “I’m ready,” you look back down your body when he grips the base of his meaty cock. Running his length through your folds, and coating Clarence in your juices.

“You going to watch, darling?”

“No, I just want to watch you,” he pushes his mushroom tip to your entrance. Letting the soft skin breach through, smiling when you moan. “Watch me, Captain.”

“I don’t want to watch anything else.”

“Don’t stop until you’re fully in.”

“Dove.”

“Don’t. Stop,” taking a deep breath, you hold his sight as his hips drive forward. Your walls grip him so tight when he plunges in. Eyes filling up with tears as your body stretches to accommodate him. Whining. Whimpering. Lip trembling.

��Dovey, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Oh god,” the first tear releases past your lashes, and Steve kisses it away. “Captain, I’m okay. Don’t stop. Don’t. Oh!” You breathe in deep, choosing to focus on the way he felt, instead of you. How even in the pain, your body could fit him. It craved him as much as you do. Taking a breath, your fingers relax the grip they have on his arm. And you smile up at him through your tears when he finally slides home.

Adjusting his weight to his forearms, he gives you a reassuring grin, “Dove, it’s a perfect fit,” you snort. It didn’t feel perfect just yet. But every second of him just being inside of you feels better. The pain starts to ebb away, and you know that he was in fact made just for your body. The thought of knowing that he will always be your first. And you are determined that he’s your only.

He grunts, and you feel the rumble all through your body. Seeping into your blood, and you need him. All of him. All over your body, and all in it. Lifting your arms you run your fingers through his hair. Needing him to kiss you, needing to look at him. Needing to see his face as he pulls out of you and sinks back in. Watching how he reacts to claiming you.

“What are you doing, Dovey?”

“Watching you, Captain. You’re mine. I own you.”

“I know you do, Dovey,” He pulls completely out of you, chuckling when you whine up at him. “I gotta look.”

“At what?”

“I have studied the face of God so many times since meeting you. I need to see how gaping you are.”

“Steve!” You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he leans back on his heels. Looking down, his thumb and forefinger spread you out, and you slap your hands over your face. “Why are you like this?”

He flattens his hand over your core, and creates circles over your clit, “Because this is mine. And I like playing with it. Get used to it, Dovey. When I come inside of you, I’m going to watch as every bit of my cum seeps out of this gaping hole. You should see her spread all wide like this. My god, I was in that tiny little thing. And now I’m going to spend every day stretching her out. I never want you to get used to me.”

Moving to settle back over you, he uses his hips to push through your tight little hole. Your back lifts up off the bed as he burrows balls deep into you. His tip whispers over your cervix, and your eyes water again. “I own all your tears,” he draws himself out of you, and stabs back in.

“I own all those squeaks and whimpers that come off your lips,” he sets in at a slow pace. Drawing his length out before burying himself back into your wet heat. “Every moan, every pant of your breaths, every pillowy wet piece of skin inside of you, every grip of your cunt…my god, Dovey, you’re killing me here, baby.”

The most lewd and salacious moan drips from your lips, and your head tilts back, “Don't’ you dare, I gave you this orgasm. You keep your pretty eyes on me,” you look back into his eyes, furrowing your brow as the most deep and powerful euphoria washes over your body. “There’s my girl. Tell your Captain when you feel it all the way in your toes. Don’t you hold back. I know this is a lot, darling, but you’re doing so good. Go on, let go, my beautiful Dovey.”

Your fingers dig into his back as the most overwhelming rush to your core locks you into place. Your walls cinch around his member, and he holds steady. Letting your body succumb to a most beautiful surrender of Steve. Feeling every inch of his glorious cock. Every vein carves inside of you as you remember your first time. Your first love. Your first restart to life.

“So beautiful, Dovey.”

“You own that, Captain.”

“Do I?”

“Mhmm. Claim me. Don’t stop. Ruin me,” Steve’s mouth turns into a devilish smirk, and he slams both hands above your head. Waiting on your final word. “I’m yours to do what you want with. Just remember, you’re also mine. Earn your tears.”

He doesn’t hesitate to barrel in and out of your warmth. Pushing and pulling so deep into you that you see stars. “Don’t you stop,” you beg as tears stream down your face. Choking on air with every pound into you.

“Fuuuuckk!” If you could see, you’d see Steve proudly looking at you. He is inside of you, and now can allow you to say whatever you want. “Fuck me!”

“You fuck me,” holding onto you, Steve rolls you both over, without ever leaving you. His hands gripping onto your thighs while you count your breaths. “What’s the matter, Dovey? Am I too deep?”

You squeak. Unable to speak, and instead shake your head no. “You’re okay though, little bird?”

“Yeah,” tucking your head down, you take a heaving breath before rolling your hips. His piercing still cool on your insides, such a juxtaposition to his heated steel rod. His toned pelvis rubs over your clit, and you see stars, “Oh my god.”

“You stop whining. Fuck me! You fuck your big cock, Dovey. Make me feel so good. Got your sweet little snatch stretched out so wide. Your tiny little cunt is so full of me. Where do you feel me, darling?”

“In my belly,” you aren’t sure how you fit him. The entire length of him is fully in you. All the way to the depths of your soul. You understood Steve. Your new religion was on your knees and praying at the altar of Steve. “My god!” Head back on your shoulders you scream out your prayer, and Steve grabs your hips, holding you still while he fucks into you.

Your juices spew out over his skin as he stuffs you full. There is no way that anything else could fit it. So wide. So deep. So full. Steve is everywhere. All over you. Every part of you fully belonged to him.

He races for his finish as he watches you travel to another plane of existence. Your head heavy and rolling around on your neck. Getting high off Steve’s pleasure is the most fulfilling moment.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he rolls the two of you back over. Slamming his hands on the bed, his hips jackhammers so hard and so deep into your body. Insides becoming rearranged, and Steve becomes addicted to your dumb blissed out face. His cock soaked in your honey, and your belly pushing up with every drive into you he makes.

“So perfect for me, my sweet, beautiful, Dovey,” one more hard cram into your body, and your cunt blooms with warmth as he blows his load straight into your belly. “Holy fuck,” he whispers. Trembling as your pussy milks him dry. Fluttering and pulsing over him. Perfect fit, “That was beautiful.”

He stills himself so he can watch your dopey smile. “You okay, Dove?”

“Uh huh. Yes, Captain.”

“Look at the mess you made,” he lifts you up. Letting you stare at where the two of you connect. “So wet. So creamy.”

“Blood,” you yip, looking back up at him. You knew he was stretching you out, but this is awful. He probably hates you for making such a mess. Showing just how inexperienced you are. He didn’t spend enough time on fingering you and making you fit him better too.

“I own that blood, too. Mmm,” he groans as he pulls completely out of you, and you stare horrified at the mess on his cock. All of yours and his juices mixed with your blood. “Only I get to make you bleed,” he tilts his head to look at your twat. Leaning down to kiss on your swollen pussy. “Only I get to feel her, and look at how wide your hole is spread. Now, push me out.”

“No,” your hands cover your mound, and your lip quivers up at him. This moment isn’t lasting as long as you’d like. You wish you could prolong it in any way, “I like the way it feels when you’re inside me.”

“You’re making me weak, Dovey.”

“You’re only weak for me, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am. But I’m going to fill you back up in just a little bit. Do your Captain a favor, and let me see that pretty pussy leak of me.”

“You promise to do it again,” if he could stay inside you all day, he would. There is no high like feeling you squeezing him.

“I promise to never stop filling you up. One day I’ll fill you up so much that your belly swells, and I grow right here. Aww,” he coos down at you when you whimper. His hand splays over your belly, and he imagines you with a tiny little bump. One day. “You like that, huh? What me to grow in your belly?”

“Mhmm,” sighing, you envision that distant future when Steve will breed you. But for now you use both hands to spread yourself out wide. Mewling at how tender your puffy folds are. His eyes cast down on your body before staring at your beautiful hole.

“And there it is,” he could come again just watching his spend ooze out of you. “I’m ruined, Dovey,” there would never and could never be another you. He could spend everyday just staring at you. “I’m so ruined.”

“And I’m in love.”

“Don’t say that,” he gathers up his cum, and presses two fingers into your abused cunt. His thumb rubs gently over your clit, and you grab his arm with both hands. “Don’t you ever say that in front of people.”

“But in front of you?”

“I love the way it sounds,” it wasn’t what you wanted, but also wasn’t what you expected. “Shhh, I’m going to get a warm rag and water, and clean you up.”

“But…”

“And then you’re going to take a nap, and wake up with my cock all the way in your belly.”

“You’re going to fuck me when I’m asleep?” If it wasn't for your smile, Steve would say no. But the little giggle you give confirms to him you just how perfect for him. The sweetest version of nasty. His girl. His everything. And he loves to hear you say you love him.

“Alright, lay back. Get whatever sleep I allow you. You’re going to emerge from this cabin wobbling. And one day, I’ll claim your other hole, too.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndy @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovleylove

#your mark on me #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics #chris evans #Chris Evans character #Steve x Dove

342 notes · View notes

lovecrime2 · 5 months

Text

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.

authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!

Chapter I: Prima

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـ

“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.

You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied.

You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.

“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.

After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.

“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.

“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.

“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.

“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

#hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #nbc hannibal x reader #dr hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader imagine #hannibal fic #hannibal nbc fic #hanniblogging #hannibal the cannibal #hannibal the series #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter smut

375 notes · View notes

scariusaquarius · 7 months

Text

extra credit.

Professor! Leon Kennedy x Student! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: College is hard, especially when your professor seems to have it out for you. You're failing the class, but Professor Kennedy knows exactly what you can do to get your grade back up. Are you up for the assignment?

A/n: it's the boy. The one and only. It's been a hotttt minute since I've written for Leon and this randomly hit me so im running with it. Kinktober day 3 bitches. YEET.

Kinktober Day 3: Facefucking/Oral Sex

Warning: Dubcon, Coercion, Manipulation, Facefucking, Cumplay, Dacryphilia, Deepthroating, Leon is MEAN and FUCKED UP, he also takes a picture of you <3

Author: ScariusAquarius

His eyes were on you like a hawk, watching every single move you made with pristine precision. Every breath you took, every subtle shake of your limbs, and every glance his way was noticed by his watchful eyes, making the man become amused and intrigued as you sat in front of him.

The cute skirt you were wearing--a simple little plaid plaited piece that barely left anything to the imagination--was bunched slightly in your hands as you sat in front of him, your head down as you kept quiet-obedient.

Just how he liked them.

Leon was leaning against his desk, arms crossed and so painfully hard that his hands were gripping his skin, trying so hard to keep his resolve as he stared down at you; his pretty little student.

"You failed my test again."

You winced slightly, and you responded softly.

"I'm sorry, Professor Kennedy. I studied extra hard, but I don't understand how I could have....all my formulas were right. I guess the material was difficult to understand."

His blue eyes narrowed, and Leon muttered, his voice stern and almost threatening.

"I didn't say you could speak."

Your shoulders hunched-were you scared?-and Leon stood. You weren't even looking at him, just staring down at your skirt as if you were ashamed.

As you should be. He only wanted the best in his class.

"This is the third test you flunked out on, you know."

He was standing in front of you, taking in the sweet scent of your shampoo and dear god, it was taking everything for Leon not to bend you over his desk and rip that cute little skirt of yours right off and fuck his cock deep into your pussy.

Leon clicked his tongue, shaking his head before he knelt down, glancing between those pretty legs to peek at your panties-lacy (f/c)-and he looked back at you. Your eyes met his blues, and he stated.

"I'm the professor here, not you, and I want you to understand that while your formulas were right, the answers were still wrong. You keep flunking, and you're going to fail. However..."

His voice trailed off, and you jolted at the feeling of his hands touching your knees so softly that it had your eyes widening as you looked at him.

He was smirking. Smug, arrogant, and enjoying this power imbalance. He knew what he was doing.

"...if you want to get your grade back up, I know of a few extra credit assignments you can do."

You swallowed, and Leon could see your throat move and he immediately envisioned his cum flowing down your throat, teary eyes looking up at him, and Leon stood, withholding a grin as he lied straight through his teeth like the perfect actor he was.

"You don't want to fail, do you? You're not doing so great in your other classes, and I've gotten wind from a few of the other professors that the Dean is already thinking about possibly revoking your scholarship...you won't be able to come back next year if you go on like this."

Your eyes widened, and tears filled your eyes, and you begged, leaning forward and clutching your skirt so tight that your fists were shaking.

"Please, Professor, I'll do anything! I can't fail! I can't get kicked out! My whole life depends on this!"

Leon hummed, stating.

"You're right, it does. It's not my fault you can't seem to focus in class. I'm willing to help you, though. In fact, I already have an extra credit assignment in mind. I'll make it worth 20% of your grade since technically, you can still catch up within the next month or so."

You were eager, sitting on the edge of your seat, and Leon smirked as you waited with hopeful eyes-those eyes that still had those pretty tears in them.

"Open your mouth."

You immediately blanked.

"What?"

Leon's hands came down to his belt, and your eyes widened significantly as you watched, the sound of the clasp unlocking ringing throughout the dead-silent classroom and the zipper of his slacks falling to reveal the black boxer briefs he'd worn for the day.

"You heard me. Open your mouth. You don't want me to deduct any more points from you, do you?"

Your eyes widened more, and this time, the tears weren't from hope. His cock came springing out, red and swollen, and your face twisted slightly before your mouth opened. Leon immediately slipped his cock inside unceremoniously, hissing through his teeth with relief from the feeling of your hot mouth wrapped around him, and you whimpered softly from the taste of him.

"Suck."

He practically growled, clutching your head tightly within his hands, and your lips closed around him, your eyes squeezing shut. Leon hummed, slowly thrusting as you sucked on him, and he murmured.

"That's my girl. So eager to please."

That's what he loved about you. You were so eagee to please and do your best; always trying your hardest to good marks-not like all the other women that only took his class for him. You were actually interested in the material, interested in learning, and damn, you were just so cute, how could Leon have ever resisted?

Should he tell you that he was intentionally failing you?

Leon's thrusts got harder and faster, and you slightly gagged as his cock touched the back of your throat. Leon chuckled, stating.

"Such a nice little mouth. I bet you've never had good dick fuck that throat of yours, huh? You're gagging, and I'm not even trying."

Your cheeks were wet, cute little noises passing your lips as you clutched at his slacks, and Leon began to thrust harder, watching the way your eyes widened and you seemed to internally panic.

"Easy now, sweetheart."

His tone was condescending; amused, and Leon could see help but moan slightly as you whined, garbled and pathetic from around his thrusting dick. Leon went deeper, forcing you down until your face was pressed against him and your throat convulsed, and he pulled you back so you could cough and breathe.

"Such a pretty girl for me, choking on my cock like that."

He slipped back in, and he began to fuck your face, thrusting hard as Leon kept a firm hold of your head. Your eyes were wide, nose wet and eyes puffy from the tears as you sniveled, and Leon moaned again, head falling back.

Over and over, Leon's cock touched the back of your throat, and over and over, Leon would force you the deepthroat, feeling the way you would gag and choke on him so good that his cock was starting to throb.

His balls were starting to tighten, and Leon hissed through his teeth.

"Fuck, such a pretty fucking girl. Such a good mouth for me."

He was gonna cum. Leon slipped out, jerking his cock with his free hand as he stared down at you, and he groaned as he came, shooting his cum all over your panting and crying face. Your eyes squeezed shut as his cum splattered and coated your cheeks, lips, part of your right eye, and Leon licked his lips.

This wasn't a sight he didnt want to forget.

So, Leon slipped his phone out, opened the camera, and snapped a photo before panting softly. Tucking his phone away and fixing himself up, Leon hummed.

"I'll fix your grade. I think you earned it....but I think you're going to want to stay after classes for some extra lessons, yeah?"

You nodded softly, and Leon smirked before stating with an arrogant look within those pretty blue eyes.

"You got something on your face, by the way."

FEEDBACK/REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED. PLEASE SUPPORT YOUR CONTENT CREATORS.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil

336 notes · View notes

chimcess · 2 months

Text

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

155 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

A New Friend (Part 1/2)

pairing: park ranger!frankie morales x f!reader

rating: M (mild sexual desire but nothing even mildly explicit, reader has a douchey boyfriend, breakups, frankie is an angel because i said so, just cutesy flirting mostly, we get sexy in part two don’t worry)

wc: 4k

frankie masterlist

Where the fuck am I?

You turned to study the woods around you, the trees notched with marks you’d made after having watched one too many survival shows on your couch looking a little too familiar for comfort.

You’d been trying to find your way back to the trail for two hours now, sunset turning into night before your eyes.

Now, you had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed very lost, going in circles when you were supposed to be heading south—you were supposed to be heading south, right?—to your campsite, the campsite your boyfriend and his friends were at getting shitfaced, likely not even noticing your absence.

As you wandered the dark woods in hopes of finding any sort of sign or guide to safety with your dull flashlight, you considered why you even came along on this trip in the first place.

This weekend marked your fifth anniversary, plans of a trip for just the two of you becoming quickly derailed by the unexpected—at least on your part—visit of his two best friends who showed up and invited him out for a camping trip. Not wanting to spend the weekend all by yourself, contemplating the future of your relationship, you decided to join them, much to their dismay judging by the way they’d been ignoring you since the start of the trip.

This evening, you decided to go out on a walk to get some much needed air from the men who were busy pretending you didn’t exist—including your partner. That’s how you found yourself lost, stuck stumbling through a navy blue washed forest, every sound heightened from fear, your brain creating scenario after scenario of how you’d reach your demise. Be it a bear or a bobcat, a stranger or nature, your anxious heart was sure somehow, this would be the end for you if you didn’t find safety.

Luckily, after a few minutes of hopeless navigating, your flashlight shined on a wooden sign with an arrow pointing left, “Ranger Station: ¼ Mile”.

“Thank god,” you exhaled, nodding as you started off in the direction of the well-used path.

As if the universe were laughing at you, halfway to the station, you began to feel a light drizzle from the blackened skies above, the clouds that had looked harmless this afternoon now slate-grey and rumbling. Shaking your head at your luck, you started to move quicker, but it seemed the rain had the same idea, the drizzle quickly spiraling to a full downpour by the time you walked up the steps to the Ranger’s lodge.

“Please be open,” you mumbled to yourself, noticing that the lights were off inside the tiny cabin. “Please, someone fucking be here.”

You pounded on the door after your knocks failed to earn a response, your eyes frantically looking around the building for any sign of life that could help (or hurt) you. Suddenly, your luck seemed to turn as a man dressed in a tight, form fitting uniform of khaki and forest green came running up the pathway with his coat thrown over his head.

“Excuse me!” you called out over the loud, crashing thunder, pulling his eyes from the ground up to yours. He seemed startled to see you standing there, drenched from the downpour and helpless.

“Oh—sorry,” he apologized as he stepped up the porch to unlock the cabin door, guiding you inside with the flick of a light switch. “I was out sweeping for stragglers when it started to get dark, must’ve missed you.”

“I got myself pretty lost, I don’t blame you,” you chuckled, overcome by the immediate relief brought on by shelter and warmth.

The cabin was small, a warm little space washed in golden light. There was a plaid loveseat in front of a fireplace, a half-read book laying on the coffee table in front of it. Turning your head a bit, there was a kitchen nook built in, nothing extravagant, just a mini-fridge, microwave, portable stovetop, some pots and pans, and a coffee machine. Beside the kitchen rested a desk that looked more like a dinner table, littered with papers and manilla folders as well as a closed laptop. Above, there was a loft built in, though you figured you’d need to climb up there yourself if you intended to study the layout.

“So,” the Ranger’s husky, low voice interrupted your snooping. You turned to watch him as he hung his coat up on the hook by the door before kicking his boots off. “How can I help you? You mentioned you were lost?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clearing your throat. “I don’t remember the campsite location. I’ve been wandering for hours now.”

“By yourself?” he questioned, a crease forming between his brow as he studied you better, his eyes raking over your entire form before the reality of your soaked state dawned on him. “You cold? I have some tea, or…coffee?”

“Tea sounds great, thank you.” You watched him as he nodded, walking over to the kitchen nook to get the stovetop heated and water placed in the kettle he had hidden in a cupboard. Meanwhile, you looked longingly at the fireplace, hoping that he’d notice your shiver and light it. “Do you…possibly have a spare set of clothes? Anything would help, really.”

“Oh. Sure,” he nodded, avoiding your eyes but remaining attentive as he left the kettle on the burner and walked over to a closet by the door. He tugged out a plastic bin and lifted the lid off, a stack of brand new ranger uniforms inside. “What’s your size?”

You begrudgingly disclosed that information in exchange for warmth, and soon he was setting a pair of forest green pants and a beige t-shirt in your open palms.

“Uh, the restroom’s right there.” He pointed at the closed door in the corner of the room. “I’ll light the fire.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a smile but he was still avoiding looking at you directly, so it went unseen. With an awkward nod to him, you walked into the tiny bathroom to undress and redress, the full-length mirror mounted on the door serving as a good source of entertainment as you studied the way you looked in the ranger’s uniform, the pants undeniably, and shockingly, hugging every good curve on your body.

“The, uh, tea is ready when you are!” His voice sounded through the wooden door, making you jump as you posed in the mirror. gathering your damp clothes in your hands, making sure to hide your undergarments in the pile, you walked back out into the living room, spotting the man in uniform sitting at the table/work area with a mug of his own. “Yours is on the coffee table.”

“Thank you so much, for all of this,” you gestured around and he gave you a nod, no sign of a smile on his face, but there was no apparent anger or discomfort either. “My, uh, my name is…” You gave him your name and offered another friendly smile.

“I’m Frankie,” he greeted you back. Still no smile. “The storm is gonna go on all night. I think the odds of getting back to your campsite are slim, unfortunately.”

Your heart sank a bit at the news. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust this handsome ranger to house you for a night, but the thought of being an inconvenience to yet another person made you feel sick.

“I, um, I have a tent, so…I can stay outside and you can stay in here,” he offered.

“I know I’m not an expert at this stuff but that doesn’t sound very safe.”

“There's a cover, so, it’s not too bad. Your comfort and safety take precedence. It’s sorta my job.” He shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“I appreciate the thought, but honestly, I think I would feel more comfortable with you in here with me.” You weren’t sure why you cared so much about keeping this glum ranger around, but there was something in his eyes, in his voice that calmed you in a way you desperately craved after the weekend you had. You weren’t naive to the deceit of men, but you truly believed this one meant you no harm. Besides, you were pretty sure sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight anyway.

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice softer than before. “There’s, uh, not much for entertainment around here.” He chuckled, watching you as you set your clothes down by the fireplace before taking a seat on the sofa. “There’s books. Lots of books, but I know that’s not everyone’s—“

“Oh, I just finished this,” you interrupted him by picking up the book from the coffee table.

“Did—was the end any good?” he asked, standing up from the table and walking over to the kitchen nook to refill his mug.

“It was. Are you liking it so far?” You turned to watch him, the sight of his shirt straining against his broad back making you feel like a cheater for the lustful images your brain decided to flood your mind with.

“I am, but I’m an anxious reader. Constantly have to fight the urge to flip to the last pages.” He laughed again and you felt yourself melt further into the sofa. “So, are you camping alone, too?”

“No,” you sighed as you shook your head and set the book down.

“Touchy subject?” he guessed, resuming his seat at the table.

“I don’t know,” you exhaled and scratched your neck, chuckling at your own predicament. “It’s my anniversary tonight, and instead of spending it with my boyfriend and his two closest friends in the middle of the woods, I’m spending it with a stranger…ranger?”

He chuckled at the rhyme and let out a sympathetic sigh. “Can’t say the first option sounded very good, either.”

“No,” you nodded, looking to him with eager eyes. “It fucking sucks! And they were just ignoring me anyway. This is the most conversation I’ve had all weekend.”

“So is he like…an avid camper or something? You guys do this often?” Frankie questioned, sitting forward with his elbows on the table, his mug held in both hands.

“No, he’s just…an avid douchebag.” Frankie’s boisterous laugh both shocked and delighted you.

“Which is why, I’m assuming, you went and got lost in the woods by yourself?”

“Yep,” you sighed and shook your head. “And the sad thing is, I bet they haven’t even realized I left.”

“It sounds like you need to make this your last anniversary,” he advised, shrugging his shoulders when you turned to look at him.

“Yeah,” you agreed with a sad whisper. “Sucks.”

Frankie studied you for a moment, something more earnest than sympathy in his eyes as you stared down at your lap, picking at your cuticles.

“Hey—“ He caught your attention, your eyes lifting to meet his from across the room. “I’ve got a few board games in case my daughter comes to stay with me on duty. We could…play one? Pass some time?”

Knowing that the only alternative was to dwell on the crumbling state of your relationship, you agreed with a soft, barely there smile and a nod.

Frankie sat down on the rug in front of the fire, clearing the coffee table before pointing to the stack of board games on the shelf below the wooden top.

“There’s Candyland, Life, Monopoly, Scrabble, and Uno.”

“Huh,” you smiled and thought about the options, your stress taken away by this kind and charming stranger tasked with sheltering you for the night, seemingly in more ways than one. “We can start with Candyland.”

“Start, huh? Gonna be up playing games all night?” he asked with a matching smile as he set up the board game. “I guess I’m not one to talk given my personal track record, but I heard that sometimes it helps to face your shit, not run from it.”

“I’ll face it in the morning,” you replied, soft and vulnerable. “Tonight, I just want to be a stranded woman in the woods playing Candyland with a park ranger.”

“Okay,” he rasped back with a smile and a nod.

“I hate you,” you kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes as you reached for the stack of Uno cards on the table, picking eight up and stuffing them in your hand previously only holding one, that near-victory long gone after he matched your +4 card. “You actually ruined my night, wow. How dare you?”

“Jeez,” he laughed and held his hands up in defense. “I didn’t expect such a violent reaction—“

“Oh, yeah right,” you rolled your eyes at him again before meeting his, your laughter fading into just a few soft, breathy chuckles the longer your eyes remained glued to his soft, brown, puppy-like stare.

“You, uh—“ he chuckled and looked down at his lap, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“No,” you giggled and urged him on. “Tell me.”

“You just have nice eyes. That’s all.” He shrugged and went to place a card on the stack, changing the color to red.

“I think you have nice eyes, as well,” you spoke softly, almost shyly as you searched your hand for an appropriate card, choosing a “reverse” card to lay on top of his. “Very puppy-dog.”

“Puppy-dog?” he asked in a laugh, amused by the unusual comparison. “Never heard that before.”

“You know, the way puppies look when they’re begging for scraps? You’ve got that same…charm, I guess. Like I couldn’t say no to you.” You mumbled the last sentence, the words not entirely meant for him to hear.

As much as you were enjoying your time with this handsome stranger and planned to end things with your boyfriend the minute you were reunited with him, you were still a taken woman. Cheating was never your thing, but you couldn’t deny the pull to the man sitting in front of you, illuminated and washed in the golden amber light of the fireplace, the buttons on his long-sleeved beige dress shirt undone at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“It’s getting late.” Frankie stood up abruptly and cleared his throat before looking at the watch on his wrist. “Two A.M. already. Sun’ll be up around six, we can head out and find your campsite then.”

“And in the meantime?” you asked, standing up as well though you weren’t sure why. Frankie’s eyes softened on you, not missing the hopeful twitch of your lip. He shook his head at you, but it was so subtle you nearly missed it.

“You’re…involved. It’s not cool,” he reminded, proving that at least one of you had your head screwed on right. “But believe me…I want to.”

“Yeah,” you nodded and looked down at your feet, embarrassed by the mere suggestion. “I—uh…yeah.”

“I’ll take the couch. You can go up into the loft. I have some clean pajamas on my bed, if you want.”

You climbed up the wooden ladder to the loft, finding a cozy space with a full-size mattress on the floor by a large window, a little lamp for reading in the corner, and a record player pre-loaded with a copy of Nirvana’s “Nevermind”. The rain was visible from the window, pattering on the glass while lightning struck in the distance, a loud boom of thunder cracking a few moments later. Lowering your eyes back to the bed, you spotted the set of red flannel pajamas at the foot.

“Mind turning the lights off so I can change?” you called out, and for a minute hoped he’d change his mind and come undress you himself.

“Sure thing,” he replied, and a moment later the cabin went black, except for the golden light of the fireplace.

You changed quickly, desperate to wear his clothes, to smell him up close for the first time, but the scent that flooded your nostrils was too clean, too soapy to have been him.

Now dressed, you walked to the fenced in ledge of the loft to watch him as he sat on the sofa, a book in hand. The fireplace illuminated him in a way that made him look painted, almost, like the product of an artist’s imagination. It was a painting you’d quite like to own, so that your eyes could study him everyday.

“Night,” he called, not looking up from his book.

“Good night,” you replied, smiling to yourself all the way to bed.

Hours had passed by, the sun now up but hidden behind the clouds, the rain pattering against the window calming to a light drizzle. You hadn’t fallen asleep the entire time, your mind spinning with thoughts of seeing your boyfriend again, of the conversation you needed to have before getting the fuck out of this godforsaken National Park.

“Morning,” Frankie greeted you as you stepped down the ladder to the main floor of the cabin. His smile served as a better stimulant than any coffee you’d ever consumed, your tired eyes going bright as you took in the sight of him scrambling eggs in the kitchenette. “Thought I should feed you before I take you back to the douchebags.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he scraped half of the pan of eggs onto one plate before repeating it with another. You pulled up a seat while he carried the food over, placing one in front of you and the other in front of the seat closest to yours. A smile tugged at your lips at his choice of seat.

“I tried,” you answered, remembering that he’d asked a question. “But…my brain doesn’t like to shut off.”

“I feel you there.” The sound of liquid pouring into a cup caught your attention before the waft of coffee hit your nose. You felt yourself salivating as he walked your cup over. “Creamer, sugar?”

“Neither,” you shook your head. “This is incredible, thank you, Frankie.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured as he sat down beside you. “Part of the job.”

“I doubt that,” you laughed.

“Keep the park and its visitors safe. That’s the entire job,” he argued with a tilt of his head, his fork stabbing at the eggs.

“So you do all this for every stray that shows up at your door?” you asked in a playful tone, hoping to conceal your hurt at the prospect of simply being an obligation to him even if that’s exactly what you were.

“No, I don’t typically let my strays wear my PJ’s when I shelter them.” He smiled, his eyes lowered to the flannel set you were still wearing. “And I never, ever, let them win at Candyland like I did with you.”

“Oh, let me win, huh? Someone’s a sore loser,” you teased, grinning at your eggs as you mindlessly stabbed at them. “Maybe we should have a rematch, then.”

“I was counting on it,” he replied. Your eyes lifted to meet his, both of you swallowing thickly at the tension that seemed to keep building with every passing second. “You should eat.”

“You should kiss me,” some out of character being possessing you replied, shocking not only him, but yourself as well. “I’m sorry. That was…god, that was way too forward. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, reaching his hand over to lower yours as it shielded your eyes in embarrassment. “Believe me. But I like you, or, could like you…a lot, I think…if we did this the right way, I mean. But kissing you now—“ He shook his head. “S’not the right way.”

“I know,” you exhaled and lifted your fork to your mouth, swallowing down a bite of food that you could hardly get down with all the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

It only took Frankie about half an hour on his quad to find your campsite based on your half-assed description, your arms hugging him closely as you sat behind him.

When you arrived, your eyes widened at the sight of the once clean grounds now littered with trash, the boys, their tents, and the truck you all came in long gone. All that remained was their garbage and your duffel bag, a note sticking out of it.

“Well,” he sighed as he parked the quad and turned it off. “They are indeed douchebags.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered, staring at the note. You turned to Frankie and shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek as you started to read the note out loud.

Since you want to be dramatic and run off all night, I’m gonna give you all the space you could ever want. I’m so done with your shit. Consider this me breaking up with you.

“Fuck,” Frankie shook his head and through your tear-blurred vision you could see his jaw clenched. Frankie climbed off the ATV and walked up to you, reaching for your hand as it crumbled the note up. “This guy is a fucking dick—beyond a fucking dick, he’s…they don’t make filthy enough curse words to describe how shitty he is. You deserve so much better than that.”

“How do you know that?” you sighed, pulling away from him to pick your bag up off the ground. Frankie quickly took it from you and walked it back to the ATV, tying it onto the back.

“I guess I don’t,” Frankie finally answered your question as he returned with a trash bag. “But, judging by how kind and friendly you’ve been so far…I’d say that alone makes you at the very least better than him.”

You huffed a weak laugh and smiled at the sight of his dress shirt stretching over his back as he bent down to clean the campsite. Feeling guilty for your ex-boyfriend’s sins, you rushed to help, practically stealing the bag from Frankie’s hands.

“Thank you, Frankie.” You gave him a sincere, heartfelt smile. “I’m really sorry you got dragged into all my bullshit—“

He cut you off with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile.

“Don’t apologize,” he ordered before checking his watch. “My shift’s over in an hour or so. Do you live in town? I can drive you home, if you want?”

“I do, and that would…that would be really nice.”

You attempted to keep your tears at bay as he started the quad up and turned back around. Here was this stranger, treating you better than your boyfriend of five years ever had, and he’d only known you for one fucking night.

Back at the cabin, Frankie left you with the WiFi password while he tended to his end-of-shift duties, knowing that your phone had no service and that you should probably update your loved ones on your whereabouts considering you technically went missing last night.

You called your best friend first, giving them the rundown on not only what happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend, but also the building tension between you and your knight in shining khaki, Frankie. After some much needed words of comfort and reassurance that you deserve someone better than your shitty ex, you said goodbye and hung up.

Next up was your ex. You’d planned on telling him off, on calling him out on all the shit you’d been putting up with since the beginning of your relationship, but you never got the chance. The fucker sent you straight to voicemail.

By the time Frankie arrived, you already cried out all the tears you felt your relationship deserved, which wasn’t much.

“Everything okay?” he asked, walking over to join you on the sofa.

“Yeah,” you gave him a soft smile. “Or at least it will be.”

“Breakups are hard,” he empathized, reaching a hand over to rest on your knee. You stared down at the contact with a smirk before looking back to his eyes, finding him deep in study as he watched you. “This might…might not be the right time, but…and it doesn’t have to be anything romantic, but…are you doing anything tonight? Maybe we could go out for a drink or go see a movie or…anything, really. I could be a friend.”

“I’d like you to be more than a friend, Frankie.”

“So would I…eventually,” he added with a smile. “But for now, I don’t want you rushing into anything with me. It’s…it’s easy to confuse distraction for acceptance. Believe me, I made a lot of mistakes after my divorce. And…I really don’t want to be a mistake or a distraction to you. So, for now…friends?”

You twisted your mouth as you smiled, looking down at his hand on your knee and resting yours on top of it.

“Friends.”

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x y/n

567 notes · View notes

esmedelacroix · 6 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.4

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffmania, implied age gap, suggestive, forced proximity

author's note: Hi lovies, :( this part is coming to you very late >.< ! The semester is ending soon and I'm an academic weapon so I've been writing papers and studying, here's the fourth chapter for y'all :) ! I suggest you read this chapter while listening to "Strangers In The Night" by Frank Sinatra on repeat it sets the perfect tone for this chapter, enjoy...

word count: 1.6k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

You both looked down at your phones in disbelief. Your thoughts raced like a thousand wild stallions, galloping through your mind at breakneck speed What do we do? Will he have to stay over? How will he react when I tell him I have one bed? He couldn't fit on the couch to save his life. You thought to yourself trying to figure out what could be done.

"So a whole day here?" Miguel asked as the shock slowly dissipated from his face.

"Yeah, well I better lock up and turn the heaters on," you said as you got up the locked the doors.

"So uh, I live upstairs," you said awkwardly.

"Okay, I live several blocks down," He joked eliciting a chuckle from you as laughter danced lightly upon Miguel's chest.

"You know what I mean, I'm inviting you into my apartment," you said pointing at the stairs as a flush crept onto your cheeks.

"I'm just pulling your leg chula," he chuckled. You both walked up the stairs to your apartment. A melange of peppermint, gingerbread, and vanilla, like Santa's North Pole workshop in an aromatic form.

The fireplace crackled merrily, festive blankets were strewn across the couch, and a tray of gingerbread cookies patiently awaited their turn in the oven. Your apartment was the epitome of Holiday cheer and warmth. The exact opposite of Miguel's place. Which was currently dark cold and empty. Not a trace of color other than the black and dark blue that his interior designer had insisted on. But was the point of a home that didn't feel like anyone was living in it? Your house was all color. Your house had memories scattered over the wall just like in the shop. Your house had lights all around, messy blankets and pillows, dishes in the sink, and baked goods sprinkled all over the dining table.

"So sorry it's a little messy," you murmured timidly.

"That's fine, it's nice," he mumbled.

You both looked at each other awkwardly before turning away. "So, I only have one bed, and there's no way you're fitting on the couch so, I could take the couch," you thought aloud.

"Well I'm not going to make you sleep on your couch," he said.

"I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as you don't make it weird," you said.

"Well you just made it weird by thinking that I was gonna make it weird," he quipped.

"Well, well, ditto," you rebutted.

"Ditto? Double ditto," he chuckled.

"Double double ditto times a million trillion gazillion," you giggled.

You both burst into a fit of laughter. You both agreed to take turns in the shower. You lent him your brother's old clothes that he had left the last time he visited. That was how Miguel ended up sitting on your couch with a generic pair of black and red plaid pj pants. With the ugliest ugly sweater on. You plopped down next to him, straight out of the shower.

Your hair smelled like fresh candy canes. He could smell it every time it would whip around when you cracked your neck. Your skin smelled faintly like sweet gingerbread and vallina. You had an interesting selection of Christmas-themed self-care. What's the use of 'sugar cookie' lip balm? I kind of want to taste it..., ew Miguel, he thought to himself.

"So since you have to spend all night and a whole day with me, you have to understand why I love Christmas so much. We're going to watch only the best holiday movie series ever, 'A Christmas Prince,'" you said excitedly as you got up and got some holiday treats and put them on the coffee table.

"This better not be some sappy romance," he groaned.

"Oh hunny, it's all the sap, all drama, and all stupidity and miscommunication. But that's what makes them so good," you explained.

Although Miguel was sure he would hate the movie, he was more invested in it than you were. Every time you would try to talk he would shush you, "I need to see what happens next," he would whisper as he strangled you squish mellow from anticipation.

You started messing with him by talking during the movie which got him so frustrated he threw a pillow at your face playfully. But you had taken this as a declaration of battle and started a pillow fight. It was full-on warfare and giggles all around. You could tell Miguel was holding back all of his strength because he could probably actually hurt you.

You pounced on Miguel, knocking him backward onto the couch. Pillows flew in the air around you as you both tumbled, your laughter turning into shared, breathless excitement.

You found yourself on top of him, faces inches apart, heartbeats racing. Your warm breaths hit each other's face, and you both lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

Miguel's playful smile slowly softened into something deeper, something more intimate. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, lost in that brief moment of connection.

Your breath caught as the intensity of the moment enveloped you. You felt a magnetic pull towards Miguel, an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, and as your eyes locked, they shared a moment of understanding, a silent promise of what could be.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment was broken by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, signifying to the two of you that the gingerbread was ready. The laughter returned, but now it held an extra layer of tension, a newfound awareness of the connection you had just shared.

You both get up, brush yourselves off, and head to the kitchen to take the baked goods out. "Why bake more when you have a million variants of baked goods everywhere?" Miguel inquired as he helped you put the slabs of gingerbread into your fridge to cool.

"I have to test and create the entire seasonal menu before I serve it," you explain.

"That sounds tiring..." he starts.

"No! It's actually really fun! Here try this red velvet cake," she said excitedly. Miguel was waiting for another opportunity to have your baking without having to outright ask you for some, and you knew that.

He took a bite and to no one's surprise, he loved it. But he wouldn't tell you that and tried not to let it show either. The rest of the night went on without a hitch until you were both exhausted. You took a look at the clock, [2:23 am]. Your eyelids felt heavier, and you could see Miguel start to blink for a little too long while trying to watch the third Christmas Prince movie. You used all the energy left in your body to get up. "C'mon big guy, we should get to bed," you said tapping his shoulder. All you got from him was a small smirk and picked up a pillow and whipped it at his face.

"You nasty!" you started before stopping and stomping into your room. Miguel followed you into your room chuckling lowly.

The moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, painting the room in muted silver hues as you and Miguel settled into bed. There was an unspoken tension between you two, a tangible distance that lingered in the cool air. The bed, once a refuge for dreams, now seemed an expanse to navigate cautiously. As the night unfolded, lost in the realm of dreams, you began to shiver subtly. Miguel noticed your discomfort, remembering you telling him that you were always cold.

With hesitancy, he inched closer, the space between you shrinking with each careful movement. The distance that had felt overwhelming moments ago now seemed trivial, as if the gravitational pull of shared warmth was irresistible. Miguel's arms encircled your body, a gentle cradle against the night's chill. His body heat became a lifeline, a silent promise to ward off the cold. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability of sleep and the unspoken connection that drew them closer.

You, amid a dream, sighed with the blissful surrender of someone finding solace. As Miguel held you close, your shivers ceased, replaced by a quiet tranquility. The once-distinct boundary between them dissolved into the shared warmth of the moment. In the hushed stillness, you emitted a soft, contented snore, a sound that resonated with an endearing charm. Miguel couldn't help but smile, finding the delicate symphony of her sleep both heartwarming and irresistibly cute.

Cuddling in bed wasn’t a part of the plan but you weren’t complaining. Your sweet scent invaded Miguel's senses. You smelled just as good as the cookies you had baked. Your skin was as soft as the velvety stockings you had hanging over your fireplace. He could stay like this forever. He never made wishes but he hoped and prayed that Medusa would come to him and turn him to stone so that he would never be able to let you go. He let fatigue carry him to dreamland, your snores acting as a fleeting melody in the silent serenade of the night.

Next... Pt.5

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@amber-content@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent

157 notes · View notes

mattheosgyat · 2 months

Text

Cat Distribution System

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Contents: Major fluff, cute kitty, Benjamin Wadsworth fan cast as Mattheo Riddle, Hogwarts, fun fun fun

Important Info: You are a Ravenclaw that lives at Hogwarts, your character is named Rory. U little cat mom.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

┕━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

It was around 8pm, about the time I calm down for the night. I'd much rather be watching tv by myself in the peace of my bed rather than entertain bimbos all day and night. My room was dimly lit, the brightness flashing away every now and then as South Park distracted my attention. I felt nothing but peace in the moment, well, until something brushed against my hand..

If the loud smack of my hand against the wall didn't alert my neighbor that a monster was coming to take me, my scream sure did. I jumped out of bed, immediately putting my back to the wall because of a stupid superstition. But just then did I realize it was a cat. I reached my hand out and slowly started petting it, trying to find a collar, but nothing. I uploaded a picture of it to the school profile before laying back down, playing around with the grey cat. It looked like about a 3-5 year old cat, pretty lazy but playful nonetheless. In about 5 minutes, a text rang through my phone. I'm never one to keep up with messages, it being no different this time. I brushed off the first 3 or so messages, finally checking after getting annoyed

Maybe: Mattheo Riddle

Hey, why's my cat on your bed?

Because there's no way she just snuck into your closed dorm..

I want her back tonight.

Great, an asshole to come ruin my night

Maybe: Mattheo Riddle

My air lock is broke and my roommate is out to pick up food, so I kept the door cracked

My dorm is Ravenclaw, 3rd floor, room 312, you are more than welcome to come pick her up

I'm not coming to your dorm when you took my cat

Read 3m ago

I set my phone down, done with what I needed to say. Get the cat or not, I'm fine either way. I slipped on a hoodless sweatshirt over my sports bra, just incase the guy does actually end up showing up. Mattheo Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, the name didn't ring a bell. Not in any of my classes I'm pretty sure, and Ravenclaws stay out of other houses business. He must be a bit careless if his cat is wandering around Ravenclaw dorms, but maybe the guy had a tough day or something.

I didn't even hear a knock or a door creak, just my bedroom door swing open. A fairly sized man stood at my doorway. He had a long sleeved plain dark blue shirt on and blue plaid pajama pants, his strings untied and his waistband crooked on his hips. He had dark brown curly hair, matching his dark black eyes. He looked like he was ready to be in for the night too, obviously annoyed by having to be here. His eyes studied my face as he stayed silent, his arms crossed and his fingers tapping in order on his arm. It was almost like he was judging me; reading into every good and bad thing about me.

"I have a busy night wheres Birdie?" He muttered, pissed off that I didn't read his mind apparently. His cat was tucked against my stomach, curled against my legs as I laid on my side. I moved my legs down, showing him where his cat was since he couldn't see past my legs in the blanket.

"Birdie? Odd name for a cat. Doesn't look like you have anything planned." I said as i scanned his clothes and messy hair. His plans included scrolling on his phone, watching tv, and sleeping.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, reluctantly walking over to wrap his hands around his sleeping cat, lifting her against his chest. He backed up quickly, trying not to invade my personal space as he headed back to my bedroom door.

He nodded as a 'Thank you' and walked out of my apartment with his cat back. I heard my front door shut and immediately jumped up and ran to it. Fuck, I'm locked in. I grabbed my phone and had no time to text, immediately facetiming the Mattheo guy. He couldn't have gotten too far. He answered the phone with a confused face, still walking down the hall.

"Hey so sorry to bother, do you have your credit card with you by chance?" I asked quickly, not waisting any time. My face was close to the phone, not giving a care in the world what I looked like. His eyebrows scrunched up even more, a confused laugh coming out of his mouth slightly.

"What crazy cat girl?" he said as he stopped walking, waiting for me to explain further. That probably did sound confusing and not what I meant at all, I should've thought about that first.

"My door, it's broken and when it shuts it jams. Do you have your card with you? And it's Rory." I explain, rolling my eyes at the last part. With a small chuckle he hung up the phone, a card flying under my door about a minute later.

"If you steal it I'll release Birdie on you. She does some serious damage" he raised his voice over the door, joking with me. I giggled a little to myself as i stuck the card through the latch trying to open the door. It took about 7 tries, but it finally stuttered open. When it opened, I saw Mattheo sitting on the hallway floor against the wall, his cat sleeping in his lap as he pet her slowly, glancing up at me when the door swings open finally. I handed his card back with a smile, doing a dramatic pose when i opened the door.

"I'll give you your card ifffff you let me see Birdie again next week" I say with a stupid little smile on my face, looking down at the cute kitty asleep in his lap. He rolled his eyes and snatched the card out of my hand, standing up with the cat held against his chest again.

"And I'll definitely need to re-discuss this with you over text!" he mocked, walking away from me. He took a couple steps backwards and kept his eyes on mine before he turned around, heading out of the dorms and the Ravenclaw common room. He's not even a Ravenclaw? How the hell did his cat get into my dorm...

I'll make a part two if this does good!! This is my first Tumblr post and my first time writing so I hope this isn't too bad!

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #fanfiction #marauders #harry potter #golden trio era

85 notes · View notes

brossession-collection · 4 months

Text

Dad's Pits (Male Possession)

"Charlie! Get your fucking ass down here!"

Charlie's eyes shot open as he heard the muffled yells of his dad's piercing through his bedroom door. He flinched, pulling his hands out of his musky briefs and hitting his head on the bedframe.

"Fuck that hurt."

Charlie is a 23 year old washed out jock who just barely graduated from college. Exhausted from the years of studying and the lack of any job leads, he came back home tired and defeated. It didn't help that he was a kinky fucker, masturbating his days away to the smell of his ripe sweaty pits.

In fact, Charlie's main reason for playing club lacrosse in college was so that he could rummage through the open lockers and dirty laundry hampers, claiming any soiled jerseys to take a dirty sniff. He got caught once, with the strength coach's yellowed jockstrap over his face.

Dude got put on probation and his single dad found out immediately.

Charlie's dad, Jeff, although stern and strict, is a pretty loving dad through and through. He's a construction manager at one of the biggest firms in the city, leading huge projects and coming home day after day fatigued, pissy, and, most importantly, musky.

And today wasn't any different.

"You hear me!? You better not be whacking your d*ck!"

Charlie groaned as he got up, not bothering to slip anything on. He opened the door and yelled back, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm not dad! What do you need!?"

"How about you get your ass down here like I said and get some dinner on the table. Least you can do to help out around here"

Charlie tucked his boner into his briefs, put on some shorts and a loose tank top jersey, and trotted down the stairs regrettably. He made eye contact with Jeff, who was taking off his plaid button down, leaving behind a tight white tank top and belted wrangler jeans.

"There you are" Jeff said more softly than just a second ago. "Listen Charlie I don't wanna be yelling at ya. You're a grown ass adult and you're still living here. Could be proactive and help out around here more."

Charlie rubbed his eyes, yawned, then nodded, his bushy pits wafting out a dry musk that made his dad wince.

"Jesus christ boy. Go take a fucking shower. Don't know how you can handle yourself smelling like that. I can barely deal with my own stink right after work."

Charlie muttered a "well I can" under his breath as he rummaged through the fridge. He glanced at his dad who seemed to not notice.

"Speaking of, I'm gonna take a shower. Gotta get this fucking stench off me. Have dinner on the table when I get back alright?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Will do daddio."

Charlie looked back as his dad jogged up the stairs, his tatted built arms swinging side to side with every step. While Charlie had more of an athletic lanky build, Jeff was a bit more bulky, carrying a muscular dad bod. They were the same height, and had similar characteristics, but his dad looked more mature with his bushy beard and uncontrollable chest hair. Charlie was jealous of those features. "I could be waaay more musky if I had dad's hairiness" he constantly thought.

Charlie felt an air of dizziness as he dropped some produce on the kitchen counter. He tried to steady himself, but for some reason couldn't keep his heavy eyelids open. "Shit... Must be the blue balls..." he slurred as he drunkenly stumbled to the dinner table. He slumped onto a chair and zonked out.

...

When Charlie came to, he felt strange. More airy, like he was floating. He felt cold, but for some reason couldn't feel his skin when he tried to grab it. He yelled when he looked down.

"The fuck is happening?"

"Why's my skin all green?"

Charlie poked and prodded at his translucent abs, which responded with a gooey jello-ey jiggle. "No fucking way man what the hell is this shit!?" he yelled.

Suddenly musky green gas started to emit from his armpits and ass, as if he was a walking stink cloud. Charlie curiously raised one of his arms up to take a sniff, only to smell one of the most rancid, ripe, and gloriously delicious stenches he's ever inhaled.

"Wheeeeewwww. Fuck... I smell so fucking BAD! I mean... GOOD". Charlie couldn't stop whiffing his own pits, hypnotized by the incredible musk that his ghostly form was now exuding.

Charlie looked around. He could see musky stink lines coming from objects all over the house, as if he had stink-o-vision. He strutted over to his dad's hung-up button down, which was apparently excessively musky.

"Damn... smells so goooood" he moaned as he brought his nose and hand up to the fabric. Suddenly, his fingers, then hand, then forearms got sucked into the fabric. With every finger twitch he tried to do, he watched as the shirt jostled around, as if he had partial control over it.

Charlie was chuckling, experimenting with his new powers for atleast 2 minutes straight before he heard a familiar voice call from up stairs.

"I'll be out in 15!" his dad yelled. Charlie heard the shower turn as his dad stomped around on the floor above, waiting for the water to heat up.

Charlie, looking down at his green ghostly body, grinned and thought of something mischievous to try. He got up and started tip-toeing up the stairs, the green stench still floating off his body.

He opened his dad's bedroom door and saw him turned around, taking off his socks. Jeff only cocked his head back, not yet noticing the new form his son had taken.

"You need something bud?" he said, before turning his head further and seeing the green apparition that his Charlie had become.

"Wh-what the hell? Y-you okay son?" Jeff's mouth was agape, unsure of how to react. He felt his nose crinkle as a more intense version of Charlie's ripe musk wafted into his nostrils unwelcomed.

"Don't know what happened daddio. Dozed off and woke up like this."

"Ch-Charlie! The fuck happened!? Go take a fucking shower son this ain't normal!"

Charlie flinched at that idea. "Why dad? I smell fucking great. And you do too..." He noticed the green stink lines emanating from his dad's pits, feet and below his waistband.

"The fuck are you talking about Charlie?" Jeff said, taking a step back as his jock son inched forward.

"Mind if I try something dad?" In a split second, Charlie pounced at Jeff, completely covering him in his green gas and slimey body.

Jeff struggled to breathe as he felt his nose and mouth getting caked in his son's ripe musk, forcibly pushing itself down his throat and up his nostrils. He lifted his arms up beyond his control as Charlie's gaseous slimey form started to ooze into his armpits.

Charlie could only laugh as he felt his ghostly body enter and take control of his dad through every single entrance he could find. Jeff didn't even notice his son slipping down his pants and pumping into his c*ck and sweaty asshole.

"CH-CHAR-guhhh" Jeff managed to moan out as the ectoplasmic form of his son's head gurgled down into his throat. At this point, Jeff could only see green in his vision.

"Gonna have so much fun stinking up your body dad!" Charlie yelled from inside Jeff's head.

The father and son, now sharing a body, stumbled to the ground, wet and slimey. Jeff let out a moan as he felt the last of the goo sink into his dirty asshole with a "POP". The man slumped over for a second before...

...

Jeff opened his eyes and cracked his neck with a smirk. He lifted up his arm and took a deep whiff of his day-old pit scent, unnatural green gas wafting out and musking the entire room.

"Mmmmmm smells even better with his nose" he cooed. He scratches at his pits then took a curious sniff before letting out an uncharacteristic moan of pleasure. "Fuck yeah that's the stuff."

Jeff got up and stuck a hand into his wranglers, rummaging around his fabric-covered balls and taint before rubbing the same hand all over his beard.

"Shiiit daaaad. You smell better than me!" Charlie chuckled with his dad's voice.

He walked up to the shower in his dad's en suite bathroom, reaching inside and turning off the water.

Once again, Charlie lifted up his dad's beefy arms and spoke:

Fin

#possession #hairy #jock #male body swap #bear #ghost #male possession #dad #stinky

145 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 8 months

Text

Roads

5k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: 3 years ago, Joel broke your heart and you left your hometown. Warnings: 18+ mdni. dirty talk, oral sex (f/m receiving), spitting, unprotected piv, ass play, praise kink, cum eating. a/n: This is my first fic. English isn't my native langage, thank you so so so much @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for reading me and correcting me, you're a gem, love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😘 Playlist | Series masterlist | Masterlist

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

3 years.

For 3 years you haven’t set foot in your hometown, where you grew up, met your friends, studied, had your first jobs and your first crushes.

3 years ago you fled to forget your great love. The one that tears the heart when it’s over, and leaves you alone with your pain and a huge void that nothing will be able to fill.

When the love of your life left you, you saw only emptiness. The uselessness of things, hours, days that passed.

So trying to fill the emptiness of your existence, to forget the sorrow of having been abandoned, you left this city where everything reminded you of him.

Joel.

You settled in a new city, not far from yours, but enough not to risk crossing paths while shopping, going to the cinema or the restaurant. Or at work.

A few years ago, one evening changed your life.

Your friend Tommy worked in construction. Due to the economic crisis, finding a contract was more complicated. He worked with his brother, whom you only knew by name. Joel.

You and Tommy had known each other since school, you were the same age. The same circle of friends, the same interests. You kept the same friends for a long time, until everyone went their own way, as adults, when each of you found a job. All that was left was a small nucleus, very tightly knit core. Including Tommy and you. And his fiancée, whom he had met shortly after high school, and whom he was marrying soon. The three of you saw each other regularly.

He told you about his parents, his brother. Both had very different characters, as many siblings do. Tommy was very sociable, loved people, company, going out. His brother was introverted, led a quiet life and hated crowded parties. He had an eighteen year old daughter, Sarah. Her mother had left them shortly after her birth, and he was now striving to give her the best life possible. So he focused all his attention on the work and his daughter.

You worked in a large construction group, which until then had not suffered too much from the economic crisis. When Tommy told you about his professional difficulties, of course, you told him that you would do your best to find him a contract. But you had to set up an appointment between the three of you, take stock of their areas of expertise, their radius of intervention and the subcontractors to hire in parallel.

That evening, you had an appointment for dinner at Alexandro's, the pizzeria near your work. You popped by you house from work to shower and change in a pair of blue jeans, a white tank top and a blue plaid shirt.

When you arrived at Alexandro's, Tommy and Joel were already there. Tommy was facing the door, Joel had his back to the entrance. That was the first time you saw him. His wide back, thick shoulders under his black t-shirt. Then his neck, broad too. His brown hair. You paused and then pulled yourself together.

Tommy greeted you with a big smile when he saw you coming, stood up and kissed your cheek

"Hi, beautiful, how are you?"

"I’m ok, thank you. Work’s finally over!"

In the meantime, Joel got up, and was facing you, smiling and holding out his hand.

"Hello! I’m Joel, nice to finally meet you"

"Hi Joel, also delighted" you said with a big smile.

Your breath hitched when you saw his face. It wasn't love at first sight per se, but to say you being enchanted was an understatement. Fortunately, your job taught you hide your emotions well.

He had brown eyes, curly hair, a poorly trimmed mustache and a beard, dimples and a devastatingly infectious smile. Everything in him exuded calm dominance and control of emotions, despite the open smile he displayed.

You sat at a table of 4 people, located in a quiet corner of the dining room. You were next to Tommy, Joel was facing you.

"So, I’ve finally met the person Tommy has been sowing wild oats with for all these years."

" ‘Sowing wild oats’ I don't know about that... We've been relatively cool as teenagers."

"You tell this to my parents who had to pick up Tommy from the police station after you got caught smoking weed," he laughed.

"Oh, that's typical teen stuff, nothing serious."

"Or when you were picked up from the Smiths because you were launching fireworks at their house on July 4th."

"Yeah well..."

The three of you laughed.

"So, Tommy told me that you lack construction sites with the crisis?"

"Yes it’s getting complicated. We don't do full weeks and it keeps slowing down."

"I see."

"So you work at Deviaux constructions? No problem of reducing construction sites?" Joel asked, before taking a sip of his drink.

"No, it's a very large group, financially we have strong backbones and a lot of companies work for us. I will need your turnover, the exact type of sites you can manage, and your schedule taking into account your current sites, so we could create a forecast on the sites that we can assign to you."

The rest of the evening you talked about work. Joel was clearly in charge of managing their company, and Tommy occasionally intervened on technical details.

You tried to hide the emotions you felt towards Joel, but his posture, his gestures, his way of speaking affested you and the more the evening progressed the more you grew attracted to him. Again, you drove these thoughts out of your mind. You tried, at least until you glanced at his hands, his dimples, his broadness again and again. His calmness and controlling attitude lured you in. You worried that Tommy would find out.

Fuck, you thought inwardly.

You arranged an appointment at your group's office 2 weeks later.

The next day, at work, Tommy and Joel were talking about the night before. Joel was relieved of your seriousness, the working methods of your group, and relatively confident about the future. Your reassuring and professional attitude gave him an optimistic outlook. Once in his bedroom, he thought back to the evening. Thought about you. Your smile, your warm, non-judgmental attitude, your ability to communicate and keep the conversation going. He fell asleep with a desire to meet you again

"See, I told you you'd appreciate her. When I think you've always refused to see her all these years, thinking she was a brainless girl..."

"Yeah, I thought she was just like you. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Jerk…"

During those two weeks, you chased the image of Joel away from your mind, already occupied by your current complicated relationship.

At the end of the 2nd work meeting, you invited Tommy and Joel to the group's annual meal, which you were organizing for the 3rd consecutive year. Invitations were sent to companies that work for the group, spouses and children are also invited. The goal is to thank the workers and to create unity between all stakeholders.

Like in previous years, you didn't plan to stay very long. You didn't like the attention and that PR side, others in the group being much better than you at it.

You and Tommy had planned to go to a restaurant while his fiancée was going out with friends.

You were wearing a suit and a tie. A quirky look with your hair. During your acceptance speech, you met Joel's eyes and smiled at him. Tommy looked at his brother from time to time, noticing that he couldn't take his eyes off you. Joel finally felt his caddie's gaze on him and smiled.

"She does that to everybody. Everyone falls in love with her."

"But not you?"

"She’s like a sister to me. I've never had a chance to be more. And now I wouldn't trade my place for anything in the world. She is the most loyal person I know, and a very dear friend."

At the end of your speech, you went to greet the respective small groups. Before you joinded them, Tommy warned his brother:

"The evening continues with music and a buffet. She will not stay," says Tommy.

"Why?"

"She doesn't like it. Too much effusions for her. We have to go eat at the restaurant."

"Just the two of you?"

"That is the plan. Want to join us?"

"Won't she mind?"

"I don't think so. I’ll ask her, ok?"

"OK."

Tommy found you while Joel got a whiskey at the buffet. Tommy texted Joel an OK and after finishing his drink Joel joined you two.

"Hey", you said, smiling at Joel.

"Hey. Nice speech. Thank you for for being ok with me joining your little after party."

"The more the merrier," you replied. "Where's your daughter tonight?"

"Sleepover. She has less and less time for her old man"

All three of you went to the restaurant where you had a great evening. You offered them a nightcap at your house. Once you arrived you took off your suit jacket, remaining in a white t-shirt and with your black tie and pants. The three of you sat on the coach.

"Whisky" ? You offered, and they agreed.

You talked about different topics and laughed a lot. You felt comfortable and relaxed. Then your phone rang and you didn’t answer the first call. The second. The third. Finally you took the call going to the window and looking outside at the lights.

"Stop calling me."

"I wanted to know how the evening was, that's all"

"I don't want to talk right now."

"Please don't hang up"

"Fuck, I told you no! You know I hate it when you presure me like that. We... it’s over OK? We talked about it."

"Yeah ? One more break up huh? Did you find someone else? Are you tired of me ? Again? When will it stop? That fucking story between you and me?"

"I guess it is. Don't call me anymore. I need air, need a break."

You hung up and returned to the couch, where the boys had remained seated.

"Sorry for that"

"Are you okay? Tommy asked, looking at you with worried eyes"

"Yeah. Where were we?"

The evening went on as if nothing had happened until Tommy's fiancee called him asking to pick her up.

"I'm sorry I have to go. Fiancé duty!"

Tommy had driven Joel there, so Joel was getting ready to get up to leave when you said:

"You can stay. It’s still early. I'll give you a lift after."

"With pleasure, » he said with a smile"

You spent the night together talking and laughing. Joel told you about Sarah.

She was about to begin her first year of college in two weeks, and he could’t be more proud of her. He described her as a mature, conscientious and cheerful girl. He told you several times that he was very proud of her, especially for the fact that he never went to college himself, having taken care of Sarah when he was still very young.

You drove him back in the early morning, and you kissed on the cheeks to say goodbye.

The next day at work, Joel asked Tommy about the phone call you received the day before.

"You know what happened?" Joel asked

"It's this moron, Stefan", Tommy answered with a sigh, "Her boyfriend, well, ex boyfriend. Their relationship is complicated, toxic I’d say. They separated several times, then got back together. Every time they get back together I understand it less and less."

"He sounds clingy on her," Joel noted with furrowed brows.

"Yeah. More than she is. But she usually comes back to him. And she always leaves him. I don’t get it."

"Why don't you like him?"

"He’s been clinging to her for years now. She stops smiling when they are together. It’s like he sucks all energy out of her. We can’t stand each other, i see her less when they are together. Afraid i’d break his fucking jaw."

"How does she take it, that you don't like him?"

"I think at first it bothered her a little, but she knows that i just want to protect her. She didn't tell me they broke up. I hope it’s really over this time."

"Why do they keep getting back together?"

"I have thought about it. The only idea that comes to mind is that she wants to fix him. And it's fucking unhealthy. And..."

"And?"

"There’s something dark in her. I feel it sometimes. Like she wants to lose herself. It scares me."

"She hides it pretty well."

"Yeah. I don't think anyone knows her completely, just a small part of her, me probably more than the others. But she’s closed off sometimes and i worry about her."

Joel was confused after that conversation. It wasn’t the impression he had by being around you those two times, and it made him curious about you.

Once their projects done, Joel and Tommy began their collaboration with your group, and everything went smoothly. The three of you sometimes bumped into each other at your office, and Joel regularly joined Tommy and you for pub nights or dinners.

You liked to be in the company of the brothers, knowing that their relationship had not always been easy, but that they seemed to be at peace in the face of past conflicts.

They were certainly different, but you found something common in them. They had a strong protective side and you teased them about that. You liked to listen to their childhood anecdotes and you gradually realized that you greatly appreciated Joel's presence and personality.

You planed to have a drink at the pub that night, but Tommy canceled at the last moment. Joel sent you a message:

"You and me?"

You'd already gone out two nights together without Tommy, and the idea pleased you. The atmosphere was different when one of the brothers was not there. No macho rivalry, no teenage jokes.

"Of course, see you tonight" you texted back with excitement.

In the pub you had a drink and Joel told you about Sarah who had recently joined her college in another state. Everything was going well for her, she got along well with her roomate, and she was coming back home for the next break. Joel felt a little lost, living first time alone in his house, but the resumption of construction sites was helping him.

"No girlfriend?" you asked him with curiosity in your gaze.

"No. Nothing serious for several years. I always wanted to dedicate all my time to Sarah."

"But there was something non serious then?" you said with a smirk.

"Something like that, " Joel answered looking at his drink and smiling softly.

Joel Miller, the less verbose of the two brothers.

The evening continued, and watching him made you regret not having met him before. You had never felt that feeling toward him when you were a teenager, Joel was a few years older than you and Tommy, and you saw him as someone scowling and always annoying his brother. That moment you thought how distorted your image had been, and you wonder if you would have dated. Looking at him, you told yourself that you would have totally dated him.

You drove that idea out of your mind again.

Joel. Your best friend's brother. Who you work with. Your relationship with Stefan has just ended (again).

An hour later you offered to have some pizza at your place. He agreed and you drove there in your car and after arriving you ordered pizza.

"Whiskey ?" you asked heading to the kitchen.

"Do you have anything else?" Joel asked waiting for you to get the drinks.

"Nope", you replied with a smile and he laughed.

You got two glasses and the bottle and sat on the couch. The evening was going great. You smoked cigarettes, ate pizza, and talked a lot. He told you that he was happy about his job, and thanked your for helping him and Tommy.

You were always amazed to see how the two of you talked so easily. Over time,with practice you learned how to keep a conversation going with anyone, though you could never feel at ease with other people. But you are surprisingly comfortable with Joel where usually you take a long time to feel close to someone, confident. You wondered if it was related to the fact that he was Tommy's brother.

Joel was also comfortable, contradicting Tommy`s words who had always described him as a bear spending more time grumbling than communicating, staying away from people, avoiding relationships because the only important thing to him was Sarah.

You reached for your glass and at that moment he also leaned over to the coffee table to grab his. Your hands brushed each other’s, electricity filled the air between you and suddenly, all your resolutions went up in smoke.

Until then, there hadn’t been any inappropriate gestures. No brushing. No allusion.

You were closer than you had ever been, that moment seemed like an eternity. You heared a voice in your head telling you to step back, to sit back and cool off.

Joel. Your best friend's brother. Who you work with. Your relationship with Stefan has that just ended.

But you’d never been able to resist temptation. Moreover, you DIDN’T want to resist it. You loved the feelings that ignited. The tension. Quite the opposite of your professional attitude, or what you showed to those around you. You loved the passion that was filling your lungs, and at that very moment you felt it burning in the pit of your stomach.

After this moment, which actually lasted only a fraction of a second, your gaze that was previously fixed on your hands and glasses rose to Joel, whose eyes were fixed on you. As they had never been before.

Your gaze slid to his lips and back to his eyes. He was looking at you and then at your lips as well. You wanted to say something but could’t find any words. Your eyes fell again to his luscious lips, you couldn’t help it. You swallowed and the voice in your head disappeared.

You didn’t know if it's the fault of the alcohol drunk in the pub and at home, but you kissed him. Shyly. You stepped back and bit your lip, unable to cope with his gaze, while your mind was once again bombarded with dozens of questions.

Time froze for a moment before he took your cheeks in his hands and kissed you back. Gently. You put your hands on his and kissed him back. Less shyly that time. You broke the kiss.

You looked at each other, your breaths intensifying. He took your hand and said "come closer" You stood up, your eyes were hooked on each other.

"Sit at the back of the couch", you told him. He settled as you asked him, and you straddled him.

He put his hands on your hips and looked at your lips waiting for your next move. You leaned towards him and caressed his cheek, gently. Then you kissed him again.

You couldn’t resist pressing your crotch against his, and you moaned as you were devouring each other. Feeling his bulge you could already feel that he had a big cock.

You finally backed down, got up and took off your top and pants, keeping your bra and panties.

"Take off your clothes," you told him quietly. You watched him take off his t-shirt. He got up and took off his pants, leaving only his boxers.

"Let’s go upstairs" you told him leading the way. He followed you and grabed your wrist while you were still on the stairs.

You turned to him and he pinned you against the wall. "Reason will wait", you told yourself.

He pressed his torso against your breasts, his hands roaming your cheeks, your breasts, your hips. His tongue entered your mouth and mingled with yours. Your tongues crossed and searched each other more and more avidly.

His hand came to rest against your crotch, still covered with your panties. You knew you were already soaked. You had been since making out on the couch. And you had been dripping since he grabbed your wrist as you were climbing the steps.

"Damn sweetheart… you’re fucking soaked."

You moaned when you heard his words.

He ran his middle finger over your slit. Pressed a little more firmly on your clit. It made your already soaked panties even wetter. He said in your ear, in a very low voice:

"I'm gonna eat your pussy baby. I'm gonna make you come on my fingers and on my cock. And I'm sure no one has ever made you come like that. Especially not that jerk that hadn‘t been able to make you stay with him."

Fuck… It seemed like you weren’t the only one with a dark side noone knew about.

"Take me to your bedroom", he ordered. He let go of your hand and followed you up the stairs. You felt his gaze on your ass. Once in your bedroom you turned back to him.

"Take off your bra" You did as he said.

"Wow... Your breasts are beautiful."

You couldn’t help but imagine what he had in mind at that moment, what he didn’t say, but his leer was revealing. Joel was imagining jerking off with them, or cumming on them. Or both.

He approached you and kissed you again, hands on your cheeks. The change in his attitude (sweet, animalistic, sweet again) made your head spin. You caressed his arms, his shoulders, his back. Your touch lingered on every muscle you were feeling under your fingers.

You took his hand and led him to your bed where you settled on your back, your head resting on the pillow.

He lied down next to you and kissed you. His hand went down to your breasts. He kissed your neck, your collarbone and went down to your breast which he took in his mouth hungrily.

After a few seconds he crawled down again until his face was facing your crotch. He removed your panties.

He stared at you, and it was a far cry from the look you had seen when you had first met each other at Alexandro's a few weeks ago. His warm smile turned carnal. The dominant side had taken over and you felt your pussy tighten.

He looked at your soaked pussy and ran his index finger between your lips. He used your wetness to rub your clit and spat on it.

Not that you needed it. But it electrified you.

"You like that baby girl ?"

"Yeah… fuck… yeah"

"You’re naughty aren’t you ? You need a real man who can put you in your place. You came across the right person."

He inserted two fingers into your pussy and spat on your clit again. You moaned.

He pulled his fingers out and ran his tongue over your pussy, from the hole to the clit. Flat.

"You're so fucking wet."

He stared at you. Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

"Look at me. Look at me when I’m eating your pussy"

You dropped down your gaze to keep the eye contact.

"You taste so good on my tongue baby"

He slid his tongue in your dripping hole and began fucking you with it. His thumb rubbing your clit. Your moans grew louder and louder.

He pushed his index and middle fingers into your pussy and sucked your bundle of nerves.

"Already gonna come sweetheart? I feel you squeezing my fingers"

"Joel... I... Yes... I'm gonna come"

"Cum on my fucking fingers. Give me your juice"

You exploded on his fingers and in his mouth.

His embrace didn’t not loose, he licked you to the last drop, until all your wetness was on his tongue.

"Joel wait.... It's too much"

"It’s not. You’re gonna give me another one, right now"

He pulled back and droped his saliva on your pussy.

"Oh god…"

He grined, hearing you. He spread your folds with his fingers and looked at the mess he created.

"Fuck baby…. You have no idea what I'm gonna do to you. You’ll become my little slut. You have that in you. I wasn't sure when I noticed it at first, but we're going to have a lot of fun you and me," he said looking at you with dark hungry eyes.

His confidence drove you crazy. How could he have this certainty so quickly? Did he see what was lurking deep inside you? That no one had ever seen?

While your thoughts were swarming, he breathed in your scent and stuck his tongue into your pussy and his ring finger went down to your ass. Wet from your juice that flowed to it. He pressed on your tight ring of muscle.

"The fuck… Joel ?!"

"Don't tell me you don't like it. Not a dirty girl like you. I know what you want. Don't worry, I'll give you everything." You moaned and squirmed again

"Come again baby. Give it to me"

You gripped his hair with your hands and brought your pussy as close to his mouth as possible. He inserted the tip of his ring finger into your ass, his index and middle fingers in your pussy, and focused on your clit with his tongue until you exploded again.

"Fuck baby.... You're gonna drive me crazy. If I had fucked you like that when I was younger I would have cum in my boxers just hearing you moan like a slut."

He crawled up your naked body and kissed you. You felt your taste on his tongue and lips

"Like how you taste?" he asked breaking the kiss.

"Yes, so fucking hot," you replied with a breathy voice. He was pleased with your answer and quickly gave you another order.

"Get up and sit on the edge of the bed"

You did as he told, and found yourself facing his crotch, still covered in boxers. You saw the bulge and couldn’t hold back a choke. You glanced up at him.

" 's gonna be okay baby, you can do it," he said gently cupping your cheek. You swallowed your saliva, and tugged down his boxers. His cock sprang free.

"Fuck", you said, biting your lip.

"I know baby. I know"

You took it in your hand and droped saliva on the tip. You began jerking it off and then took it in your mouth. Just the tip, at the beginning. Time to get used to its girth. You swirled your tongue around the tip and heard him moan.

"You’re doing so well sweetheart." His hand was on the back of your head

Your mouth went down his member.

"Shit that’s so good baby."

You took it as deeper as you could. You felt his hips rolling towards you, he started fucking your mouth gently. Until his cock reached your throat. You gasped, but didn’t back down.

"Good girl" he mumbled getting greedy, impatient.

"Fuck you’re doing so good, taking me so well."

You pulled back until you got it out of your mouth and looked at it. A trickle of saliva connected your mouth to his cock.

"You are so beautiful baby. Can I fuck your mouth?" he asked, alternating between sweetness and animality that made you lose your mind.

You said ‘yes’ and took him in your mouth again letting him handle the movements. He put his hands on the sides of your head and sank into your mouth.

"Oh yeah"

He sank deeper and deeper at a slow pace until it hit the back of your throat. His fists clenched into your hair and he held you in place. You gasped

"Stay like that honey. Don't move" Then he released his grip. You backed up to catch your breath.

"Again" he commanded.

You took it back in your mouth and he put his hands back on the side of your head. He inserted itself slowly into your throat and held you there. He moved his hand down your neck, and squeezed it until he felt his cock through your skin.

"Fuck… You take me so well. You're such a whore" He pulled out of your mouth.

"I'm gonna fuck you now. Lie on your back"

He lied down between your thighs. He kissed you and pressed his tip against your entrance. He stoped there, teasing you. He inserted his tongue into your mouth, and you swirled yours around his. He pulled away to look at you.

"Open wide baby." You opened your mouth, he droped his saliva there and pushed his cock into you at the same time, up to half of it. He backed up and made another push, bottoming out.

"Oh fuck… Joel…. You’re so thick"

He set a slow and powerful rhythm.

"Yeah take it honey... Take it good"

Your head sank into your pillow, as you tilted it back. You felt your walls tighten against him.

"Yeah squeeze me like that, keep doing it"

You wraped your legs around his waist and followed his moves.

"You're doing well. You take me so well"

Meanwhile he kissed your lips, your jaw, your neck. He caresseed your cheeks. His gestures were gentle, the opposite of the power he was imposing on your pussy. You moaned and ran your hands over his arms, his shoulders.

"On all fours baby" You followed his command getting on your hands and knees. He sank into you and bottomed out

"Oh fuck", you exclaimed.

His hands clung to your hips and began pistoning into you. Your head was resting on the pillow as you suffered his cock strokes, that were going even deeper than before. He set an increasingly powerful pace, then spread your cheeks.

He spat his saliva on your asshole and put his thumb against it. You tightened against his finger.

"You like that baby?"

"Y… shit… Yeah i love that"

"Dirty girl."

He kept pounding you.

"Touch yourself baby. Come on my cock and on my thumb. Squeeze them while you come. Come on baby"

You brought your fingers to your clit and started rubbing it.

"Faster Joel. Please"

He picked up the pace, to the point that you started screaming.

"Oh yeah baby? Go ahead, scream. Show all your neighbors how well you get fucked by my big cock"

His words pushed you over the edge and you came hard, clutching his cock and his thumb. He continued to fuck you for a few minutes, at a frenzied pace, while you were weakened from your orgasm and its power. You heard his moans increasing, he pulled out and stood by the bed.

"On your knees, tongue out"

You watched him jerk off while he was devouring you with his eyes. He put his cock on your tongue and you felt the ropes of cum covering your tongue, your mouth and your throat. He was jerking off until his balls were emptied.

"Swallow." he told you and you did.

It was the first time you fucked. And you already knew you’d be under his spell. You just hoped he wouldn’t burn you in flames.

Part 2

********************** Thank you for reading 🙏 Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #Roads

199 notes · View notes

fromthepinnacle2thepit · 18 days

Text

cervi e consumo

hannibal lecter x reader

a/n: hello! so i began posting this on another blog, but have decided to continue posting it here since i’m on this way more often!! it used to be called love crime (sopravvivero).

i’ve developed my plan for the plot a LOT more, and definitely know what im going to do with it.

if i tagged you, it means that you wanted to be added to a tag list or reblogged it. this is the first chapter but i’ll be publishing the second very soon!

tags: @catchmybreath94 @flow33didontsmoke @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @zoleea-exultant

summary: When you begin sessions with your new psychiatrist, the renowned Dr. Lecter, you never would’ve imagined falling into the rabbit hole you get stuck in. Faced with a horrible trauma, deer and cannibalism haunt your subconscious. Suddenly, Dr. Lecter is a part of all this. In more ways than one.

chapter 1: the beginning

“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now,” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied. You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

“I imagine you are my new patient, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

He began to list off the reasons of your current visit, words coated in that smooth accent. He finished and looked up at you.

“Is that all correct?”

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was all laid out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment?” he asked you, your last name politely slipping from his lips at the end of his question, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #cervi e consumo fic #pin’s fics #cross posted on ao3

54 notes · View notes

kitkat238984 · 3 months

Text

Goddess Of Your Dreams (soulmate au)

Summary: In an alternate universe where soulmates are determined by unique marks, you do everything you can to hide your matching soul mark from the cold-hearted handsome devil, Hook.

But when a match with "Timeless" Toni Storm causes your secret to be revealed to the whole world, you have many awkward encounters that leave you both mesmerised and breathless.

TW: Mentions of sexual themes, normal wrestling violence.

The crowd roared as The Chairman’s Intent played through the speakers and Hook entered through the tunnel and made his way down the ramp towards his hungry-for-violence opponent, Wheeler Yuta. Excalibur’s voice fed through the TV screens in the homes of thousands.

“And we see the cold-hearted handsome devil walk down the ramp, so confident and expressionless, a complete contrast to that sunflower soulmark he’s sporting there, wouldn’t you say Taz?”

The father of the heart-throb in the wrestling world had to stay neutral in his job as a commentator, but never hid how proud he was of his son and his achievements. “Of course. But if there’s one thing I’m sure about is that he will make some lucky girl very happy”.

“Hook, doing his ritual of circling around the ring. And I think the soul marks make you realise just how human we all are, showing almost the vulnerability in people as stone cold as Hook”.

The match between Hook and Wheeler wasn’t for any title, only to settle a score when Yuta began cussing out Hook’s arrogance and the friends he “strings along”, and - as he usually does - Hook shoved those words where the sun don’t shine and had him caught in a redrum within minutes. After all, cursing is Danhausen’s thing.

—

A couple of weeks later, you were backstage, preparing for your upcoming fight against ‘Timeless’ Toni Storm for the Women’s World Championship. This was quite frankly the biggest match of your life, and against a wrestler who was far more experienced than yourself, even though you had been in AEW for a year now and had made quite the spectacle of yourself with your alluring character. You couldn’t count the number of times male fans of AEW had approached you with their clever but awkward pick-up lines.

“You’re ready for this” , the voice of your ringside and friend, Kris Statlander, told you whilst patting your shoulder. “You’ve studied every one of her moves and trained for weeks on end. How are you nervous about this?”

You ignored her question with no real answer to give her. You were ready, more than you had ever been for a match, let alone already being a decent wrestler.

You continued to watch yourself in the mirror. You really did look like a goddess. And that wasn’t you trying to be conceited because your whole gimmick was that you were Venus, the Roman goddess of love and beauty and sex and more. You wore waist high blue shorts with decorative white buttons and drawstring with a matching plaid sporting bra which cupped your breasts and made your cleavage visible for all to see.

You didn’t mind being used as sex appeal to be honest as it made you feel a lot more confident in your self. You’d hardly had any confidence before AEW until one day you decided to be brave, wearing very little sportswear at the gym which happened to be the day you were recognised as a potential for professional wrestling. Coincidence? Who knows, but you didn’t care. Everyone appreciated you as a good sportswoman. You were here and you were proud your dream came true whilst also being one of the best female wrestlers in the company.

“You know why I’m nervous”, you said, timidly, glancing to the right of the mirror to meet the gaze of Kris.

“We go through this every time, no one’s going to see it. They never do! That choker is very secure. You might as well be strangling yourself”.

You hummed, instinctively slipping your hand under the large braid that snaked down the right side of your neck and swept your fingers under the choker, touching where you knew your soul mark to be.

“I don’t even know why you bother hiding it. It’ll come out eventually. One of your hookups are going to piece it together”.

You smiled and chuckled lightly at her comment and turned around, tiptoeing to lean closer to her ear.

You whispered, “Daniel Garcia didn’t say anything when he had his hands wrapped round my throat”.

With a hearty laugh, you went to leave the room you used as a dressing room hearing her dramatically gasp, saying “Y/N, you’re such a slut!”

The door was half open with you facing inside. “I may be a slut but I still have morals. My soulmate is more important than any of those floozies”, you laughed again and opened the door fully, but almost crashed into a figure who was walking past and most likely heard the last of your conversation.

You looked up at the tall man wearing a white hoodie and black sweatpants and immediately cleared your throat and glanced back down when you made quick eye contact when he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow and continued on his way, not stopping once to question what he just heard.

“Awkward”. You turned your head to glare before nodding your head towards the hallway so you can get ready to go on, not before taking one last look at the cold-hearted Hook who had his hood covering that damned mark that matched yours.

Why, of all people, him?

You’d never even spoken to each other and you always thought that your personalities would clash. That is, if you even knew his personality. His cool exterior was only an act after all - or at least most of it. You had no clue where to even start with him.

Your ‘quick look back’ must have lasted a little longer than you anticipated because you found yourself being pushed through the dimly lit hallway towards the stage.

Toni Storm was already out there making her extravagant entrance as usual and the nerves suddenly hit you again like a continuous stabbing to the gut.

Kris must have read you like a book because she began roughly massaging your shoulders and shaking you, waking you out of the depths of your own mind.

“You got this", she told you. “Rip out the feathers of her boa and you’ll have her crumbling on the spot”.

“Or that would just make her even more angry?"

“Just beat her senseless and bring back that belt. Come on, we’re on”.

You heard the guitar riff you’d heard so many times which was your entrance song, 'Venus' by Shocking Blue - ironically not such a shocking song for your character.

Holding your best flirty face, you walked through the tunnel and stood centre stage, eyeing the crowd and blowing kisses at certain men on the front row, contributing to your act. You made eye contact with Toni Storm and gracefully travelled down the ramp with Kris tailing behind you, riling up the crowd a bit before walking around ringside.

Entering the ring you saw she had a mic in her hand and so you thought you’d wait to attack and have a little fun first.

“Any words before I banish you off the screen?”

You motioned for the mic and she willingly let you have it. “First off, that belt clashes with your outfit. And secondly… I’m about to knock you into the 1800s, showgirl”.

You throw the mic to the side and headed straight for the attack which Storm skilfully dodges but you bounce back on the ropes and high kick her in the face which makes her stumble back.

You go back and forth with the attacks and a few minutes in it’s still difficult to predict a winner as you both fight through the pain, eager to get your hands on that belt.

You let her swing you around the ring before stranding you in the middle where she kicked your back and you fell forward, face first into the canvas. Blood was most likely pouring from your nose at this point and you felt pretty helpless but, your arms the only thing keeping you up, even when she had your legs bent and leaning on your back you still wouldn’t budge so the referee never started counting.

Everything from that point felt like slow-motion. Storm yanked up your hair and grabbed a hold of the precious choker that you felt the need to guard with your life. However, you couldn’t stop her as your arms were still in use to hold you up.

You thought you could hear the voices of Excalibur, Tony, and Taz commenting on this scene when your oxygen privileges were taken away from you for a brief couple of seconds.

“Dramatic as ever! Toni Storm ripping that choker from Venus, breaks the chain, and still has her-”

“Wait a minute there, Tony”, Excalibur interrupts. “What’s that? On her neck?”

“Why, it’s a sunflower!” He was quick to reply. “Oh, my god! Now, for anyone who doesn’t remember, that’s the exact same soul mark as our very own Hook! Taz, how are you feeling about this?”

A few seconds passed before Taz responded to that question, bewildered by this realisation that millions of people in the fanbase had just come to terms with. “For the first time ever, I-I have no words. I’m utterly speechless”.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You were in such shock that the one thing you were trying to hide was revealed that you lost control of your arms and they gave in to both the weight of yourself and Toni - who was still laying over your back - and the recoil of your head after the breakage of your choker.

You acted fast when the referee began smacking his hand on the canvas and you swung your elbow back into Storm’s side, rolling her onto her front in place of you, pulling her legs back and holding down her upper back with your knees so she couldn’t escape.

Within three seconds, you heard the ring of the bell indicating your victory and had secured yourself the WWC. You carefully got off your opponent and used your large braid which was still somehow intact to cover the sunflower mark. You knew it was all too late but perhaps you could save yourself at least a little dignity for now.

You allowed your hand to be raised in the air and for the Women’s World Championship belt to be slung over your shoulder. You decided to not let your revealed secret take away your triumph and you gladly stood on the ropes of the ring and held up the belt for the world to see. Most of the crowd were cheering which you were relieved at.

Jumping out of the ring you picked up a mic and yelled out, “Checkmate, bitch!” before Kris attacked you with a hug which you happily embraced, knocking the microphone out of your hand.

With smiles strewn across your faces, you limped up the ramp and gave the camera a wink and blew a kiss before heading through the tunnel.

You were greeted with “well done”s and “congratulations”’s, and you didn’t fail to notice every one of them look at where your soul mark was.

“I can’t believe I just did that”, you said to them all, still breathless.

“We thought you were a goner when she had you pinned like that. Such a turn around”.

“Saw it in the viewing room. Could’ve gone either way”.

“Y/N…” a stern voice called to you. You turned to see who it was and came face-to-face with the one and only Tony Khan.

Ah shit.

“I hate to cut this celebration short but could I speak with you for a moment?”

You stared in shock. “Uh yeah of course”.

He couldn’t fire you, could he? It was just a soul mark. Even though the scenario that he would get rid of you was unlikely, the fear plagued your mind.

—

“I first want to say well done for securing the Women’s World Championship. You deserve it after all the effort you’ve put in this year”.

“Thank you”, is all you managed to say.

“I’m going to be straight with you. It was very irresponsible to keep something like a soul mark matched with another wrestler away from myself and the team. We would have understood if you wanted to keep that a secret from the public but not us. We could have helped you and prevented a situation like this from happening".

You sighed, knowing he was completely right and you should have at least told someone about it so you could get help to cover it rather than taking it upon yourself to hide it from everyone.

“We can’t do much about it now. The public already knows and we’ll just have to go with it”.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, sir?”

“If what you’re thinking is incorporating it into a story line, then yes”.

You had such mixed emotions coursing through your veins at this moment. You were relieved that you weren’t in trouble, excited you were part of a new story line, thrilled that you’d just won your match against Toni Storm, and scared as to what your soulmate would say to you after this.

He continued. “But I have to ask. Did Hook know?”

You shook your head lightly in shame and looked down at the hands that sat fidgety on your lap.

“Well I’ll give you time to sort out a few personal things, and I’ll make sure promos are recorded regarding your new on-screen romance first before there’s any action in the ring. Thank you”.

You nodded in appreciation and left his makeshift office, now bubbling in anticipation at this new opportunity. You practically ran to your dressing room where Kris said she’d meet you and you’d get changed and party until dawn, drinking to celebrate your success and to also forget about the future encounter with Hook, well… Tyler is what you’d found out his name was, but you weren’t ready to be so casual with someone you'd never spoken to before.

—

When you were back at work, you expected Hook to approach you straight away, however, the most you got out of him was a mere glance your way or sometimes you’d catch him staring at your back, not that he seemed even the slightest bit embarrassed to turn away.

You couldn’t possibly start any conversation with him. In fact, when you were told what was happening for one of the promos, introducing your on-screen romance, you never spoke to him about it and had to improvise when the cameras were placed on you both.

“Danhausen, tell us how you’re feeling about the upcoming trios match?” The interviewer asked him. Danhausen being himself, he had this scary yet amusing pose with clawed fingers in front of him.

“Very good. I have cursed all three of them so they may die before then”, he said in his freaky accent.

“And of course you’re teaming with Hook and Orange Cassidy - a pretty strong team formed there if you ask me - how do you think they’re coping with the pressure of this match?”

“I fear they are frozen”.

“Uh frozen? What do you mean by that?”

“Some powerful sorcery has frozen them in time. Look!”.

The camera first focused on Orange Cassidy who was leaning up against a wall, both arms and legs crossed and slowly chewing on a piece of gum.

The camera then turned to you and Hook who were told to stand opposite one another, simply staring into the other’s eyes, your soul mark being the one to show the camera.

Although it was only acting, you still felt butterflies floating around your stomach since this was technically the most you’ve ever interacted with him, your soulmate. No one else’s soulmate. None of his adoring female fans had the same mark as him on their necks. The thought of you being the special one almost brought a smile to your face, but you had to stop yourself when you remembered the cameras.

You used this time to really appreciate his facial features. How had you not realised how attractive he was sooner? His jawline was well-defined yet looked so soft to touch. And his eyes… so dark but so… intriguing… and… and… what were you saying?

You’d got so lost in the moment that you hadn’t even realised that the cameras were no longer on your faces. It was only when the clicking of Danhausen’s fingers in between you both that you were brought out of your trance.

“I fixed them! I didn’t know I could uncurse someone…”

You saw Orange Cassidy on the other side of the room, peeking over the top of his sunglasses with his suggestive look at you. Hook hadn’t once flinched or maybe even blinked and still continued staring your way. The fear and self-consciousness struck you like it had done a thousand times before and you awkwardly walked past him towards catering where you were to meet Kris and Willow.

You were smitten alright. Unmistakably. And you did not want to make yourself feel even more flustered than that situation had already made you.

—

The plan was simple. "Timeless" Toni Storm and her husband and AEW wrestler, Juice Robinson, would talk shit about you in the ring, daring you to come out with the belt. You’d go out, say something snarky, they’d beat the crap out of you, and Hook comes out to save you. Easy. Simple.

Except it really wasn’t that simple. Not when Hook was involved. You couldn’t bring yourself to confront him again. Danhausen’s promo was only the beginning and you only just managed to hold yourself together then.

It took you a few laps around your hotel room that morning to clear your mind of the worries. Once all of this was over and everything made sense in the world, there would be nothing left to worry about and you would actually be able to get on with your life and career in peace.

You were backstage, ready for your entrance. Hook stood only a couple metres away, eating a bag of chips. If there was one thing you definitely knew about Hook as Tyler, it was that he loved chips. Even when the cameras were nowhere in sight you always saw him with chips to hand.

“...so what I want to say to Venus is that if you want to disrespect my beautiful wife, then you can come out here and say it to me as well. Come on! What are you afraid of? Everyone knows your dirty little secret now so you might as well show it to the world!”

You took that as your cue and motioned for the sound and visuals manager to play your into. When it began, you wasted no time strutting out on stage, with no bother sending kisses to the crowd. After all, you were meant to be angry at them.

You were given a mic at the end of the ramp and when you entered the ring, the power couple before you stood tall and confident, looking down at you who stood alone with your newly won belt you felt the need to protect.

“Let us not dither with such a minor dispute. I don’t want to waste my time with an extra”, Storm laughed, and you heard a few boos in the crowd. Thank you. “You have stolen what is mine and I want it back. Now”.

You smirked to the crowd and back at her who had her hand out expectedly.

“It’s actually my belt now. My belt, my championship, my title. If you want it, you’ll have to come and take it from me. Mr. Loverboy over here don’t scare me”.

An impulsive thought suddenly came to you whilst saying that. Where were their soul marks? Were they matching? People get into relationships, but normally they wait for their soulmates for marriage. Perhaps you just couldn’t see their marks, you thought, but then inwardly grimaced at where it might be as Robinson wasn’t exactly hiding much of himself with the amount of clothing he was wearing.

“And where’s yours?” she asked. “Are you done staring at each other or are you still both lost little puppies, looking for their owners?” The teasing began to infuriate you. She must have been told to make the most of how she was the one to shed the light on your soul mark.

“It’s… none of your business…” you awkwardly stated, glancing off to the side.

“I’ll tell you what is my business. That championship. Darling?”

Within seconds, the mic flung out of your hands for goddess knows how many times now and before you knew it, your hands were pinned behind your back and you had fallen to your knees, hair pulled to look up the 1920s star, officially at the mercy of the couple.

As always, Storm dramatised the entire scenario, acting as if the belt was an Oscar she’d won for a picture show, and suddenly flung it to the side of the ring before striking your face with her forearm several times and you could do nothing but endure it.

At one point you decided to test the waters and spat at her, who gasped disgustingly and kicked you to the side and you dropped on the floor.

As if on cue, the arena darkened and Action Bronson played through the speakers, notifying you that Hook had entered the scene, and the butterflies yet again fluttered in your chest.

Don’t get nervous now with millions of people watching you, Y/N.

At the sight of Hook striding down the ramp with his cold-hearted yet handsome, sort of devilish expression - oh you got why they called him that now - Robinson and Storm ran past him towards the tunnel, Hook intimidatingly puffing out his chest through his hoodie as they crossed.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw that Hook hadn’t stopped there and fought, but climbed through the ring and stood over your feeble state. As expected and without any exchange of words, he offered you a hand which you looked to the audience for approval before accepting gratefully.

Ahhh it hurts so much. I didn’t realise the soulmate bond was this powerful. Was he feeling the same as me? How was he so cool about this all?

You smiled as you both walked up the ramp in style, a couple that were quite frankly unstoppable to AEW.

You didn’t bother lingering backstage, hoping that maybe Hook would finally approach you since you still couldn’t gather the courage to do it yourself. It was rather hypocritical of you seeing as you had an entire year to say something, but you just wanted to know if he was interested in you or not before making a fool out of yourself.

A small gasp escaped your lips when a strong hand gripped your arm and spun you around where you faced the devil himself. He stared at you like he had all those other times, although you noticed the subtle desperation in his expression as his nose twitched and eyebrows furrowed, adjusting his jaw.

His eyes shifted and you followed his gaze to where your mark was and self-consciously reached up to touch it but his hand gently took hold of your wrist, stopping you, and his head leaned closer toward your neck.

Was this a chapter out of Fifty Shades of Grey or something?

You couldn’t tell if your heart had stopped or if it was beating so furiously that it would burst out of your chest. A shiver sent down your spine and a shaky breath left your lips when you felt his own brush over the mark you shared, giving you the perfect angle to see his own soul mark.

It really was a replica of the one you had which was a given.

His head lifted out of your neck and he met your eyes again, this time exhibiting a sly smirk telling you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

How devious… but you couldn’t deny that you were loving every second of it.

“Why were you ignoring me?” you finally managed to ask after weeks since your mark was first shown in the ring. His obvious attraction and reveal of his need for you as well fuelled confidence within you, and you were glad that this encounter had turned out the way it had.

“Why did you hide this from me?” He placed a hand on the side of your neck which now filled you with warmth and comfort.

You kept quiet and bit your bottom lip as you didn’t really have a good explanation for why you did what you did.

He chuckled lightly and quickly looked over your body, licking his lips - a small detail that only someone as close to him as you were in that moment would have noticed.

“Well now I know we’re soulbound, it’d be rude not to ask the lady for a drink after the show. So how about it?”

A large, mischievous grin swept across your face. “I’d love to. But you should know that I don’t commit on the first date. Not to anyone”.

“Not even to your soulmate? Aren’t you meant to be the goddess of love?”

“Are you saying you’re already in love with me?”

You had both found yourselves gradually getting closer and closer. You didn’t even realise when your chests had come into contact, breath tickling each other’s faces.

“Can’t argue with the soulmate bond”.

Almost in desperation, your lips crashed into Hook’s who’s hands travelled to your waist to somehow pull you even closer than you already were, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers sliding through the hair at the top of the nape of his neck.

“...I thought these videos were meant to be about me…” a voice broke you out of your kiss and you felt Hook huff and pout like he usually does, making you giggle at his childishness.

You turned and saw Danhausen standing, watching you both in confusion with the camera crew situated behind him, pointing towards you.

This was undoubtedly going to be aired in a promo but you couldn’t care less in that special moment of yours. The crew left once they realised that you both weren’t going to budge from where you were. You’d just been thrown in the arms of your soulmate after a year of knowing the truth and over a month of incredible attraction.

Your attention was very quickly back on the man securely holding you in place, and you decided to tease him a little if that was the game you were going to be playing. “I’m not just the goddess of love. I’m the goddess of beauty… desire… sex…”

Knowing exactly where you were going with this, his smirk returned, bigger than before. “Well let’s see. Beauty? Check. Desire?” He told a hold of your hand before guiding it towards the bulge that stuck out of his sweatpants. You squeezed his length gently, earning a soft groan before pulling your hand away again. “Check. Sex? Well I guess I’ll be the judge of that”.

His hands slid down, cupping your ass and lifting you up with ease as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt yourself being carried through the halls backstage and you used this time to entangle your hands back through his hair which caused him to squeeze where his hands were placed on your backside.

You lightly nibbled on his neck where the mark was and breathed in all of him.

Ugh. Did he always smell this fucking good?

You didn’t care if the people you passed were judging you or not; you only cared that all this tension was finally about to be released.

“You’ll be turning full heel after the night is over, baby. I’m about the fuck all that gracefulness out of you”.

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “You just try me”.

THE END.

#hook aew #hook x reader #aew #danhausen #aew fanfiction #hook x you #hook x y/n #hook fanfiction

139 notes · View notes