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ddejavvu · 10 months

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 1) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: thank you to everyone who has encouraged me in my development of this series! it's three parts long, and each part will be posted one week after the one before it. that means you get chapter 2 next week, and chapter 3 two weeks from now. and after chapter 3 is released, i will post the full fic in one single post, so that it's easier to read. this series means a lot to me, it's the longest fic I've ever finished for this account, and I would really love to hear what you think of it. Thank you to the love of my life miss jade (@luveline), for being the first person to read this (!!), and for all of your wonderful feedback that cheered me on as I crossed the finish line for this series. I don't think I would have finished it if it wouldn't have been for your support, so thank you sweetpea <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

It’s 11:14 AM when you get the call. Your phone buzzes ballistically beneath your pillow, where you’d stuffed it haphazardly last night somewhere close to 4 AM. For the record, you’d only slept because your eyes hurt from being open for so long. You’re certain that, after what you’d done, you deserved to ache for eternity, but you’d succumbed to sleep when it pulled hard enough at you.

Raising the phone to your ear is a chore, especially because the number on the screen is unrecognizable, but you stretch your tired, bed-ridden limbs and hold the cool glass screen to your face. It’s jarring, and you long for the stuffy warmth of the pillow again.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/N Mitchell?” It’s a man’s voice, deep and strong through the receiver. It’s no-nonsense, and you almost worry that you’ve misfiled your taxes, that someone from the IRS is tracking you down.

“That’s me,” You rub sleep out of your left eye, harder than necessary so that your vision is blurry when you open your eye again. You’re not very gentle with yourself these days.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. He’s currently a patient at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He was brought in at 9:37 AM this morning when his jet malfunctioned mid-exercise, and he crashed into a canyon below.”

Your heart stops.

Your cheeks get hot, your hands start to tingle, and your stomach feels like it’s going to start turning cartwheels, sloshing your insides around until you vomit what little you’ve eaten.

Bradley’s dead, you think, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead.

“We were able to airlift him out, and he’s stabilized now-” Bradley’s not dead, “-but he’s still unconscious. His parents are here, as well as your father, if you’d like to join them.”

It takes a long time for you to speak. It’s almost a full minute, and the man on the other end has to call your name to get you to respond.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“I’ll be there,” You blurt, heaving a shaky breath as you seal a hand over your mouth. You part your fingers only to make sure he hears you clearly as you confirm, “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive and stable.” The man informs you, “He’ll recover, Miss Mitchell.”

Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead.

“I’ll be there,” You repeat, and for the first time in almost 36 hours, you kick the crappy motel blankets off of your legs and stand, “Thank you, sir.”

Wearing a bra again after two weeks of lazing around in bed is awful. But you’ll do it for Bradley, if only to make up for the last thing you’d said to him.

“I can’t love you anymore!” Rings in your ears, and a vision of Bradley’s hands reaching desperately for you flashes through your mind, covering up the green light ahead of you.

Someone honks behind you, a BMW. You jolt to attention, stepping on the gas and jerking into the intersection.

Easy, you chide yourself, You’re going to the hospital to visit a patient, not to be one.

You’re able to pull into the hospital’s parking lot without nearly causing any more car crashes, and you briefly wonder if you should take the coward’s way out again as you trek over the asphalt towards the hospital. You’d run two weeks ago, why not now? Why not now, when what you’d been worried about that night has actually happened?

Urged by the regret flooding your veins since fleeing, you walk on, stepping through the automatic doors of the hospital and sidling up to the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Bradley Bradshaw,” You inform the nurse there, “Uh- Lieutenant. If that… helps.”

She sends you a kind smile, filled with sympathy that you’re thankful for as you stammer and stumble your way through speaking. You’re sure you’re not the most distraught person here, and you’re guiltily thankful for that.

“Room 624,” The nurse tells you, and oh, what a sick coincidence, “Down the hall and to the left, take the elevator up and follow the arrows on the floor.”

6/24 is not only Bradley’s birthday, but your anniversary; the day you’d kissed him on the swings in his backyard with hot fudge sticking to your lips. He’d been glum about his dad missing his birthday on deployment, and, of course, your dad couldn’t be there either. Carole had done her best to brighten up her boy, but some things couldn’t be mended with gift wrap, and you all knew that.

You’d snuck out to join him that night with a sundae, offering him the serving spoon thickly coated in the chocolate. He’d accepted it with a huffy eye roll, upset that you’d managed to cheer him up even a little bit with just one spoon of ice cream.

“It sucks,” Bradley mutters around the chocolate in his mouth, the syrup sticking his words together, “I know he can’t do anything about it. But I still want him here.”

“I know,” You hum, taking a bite of ice cream for yourself, “I’m sorry, Brad. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably get you something, like, really good when he gets back. He’ll feel all guilty, that’s what my dad did and I got a puppy out of it.”

“We’ve already got a puppy,” Bradley gestures to the Bradshaw’s family dog, well on in years by the gray around his muzzle and his tendency to nap instead of move.

“Maybe you’ll get one that you can actually play with,” You offer Bradley another bite of the ice cream, and you only feel a little bad for making fun of Lewis. But the dog doesn’t understand your teasing, softly snoring on the porch.

“Maybe he’ll get me a car,” Bradley gushes, “A bitchin’ one, like a Bronco or something. Then we can put our surfboards in the back and go to the beach.”

“You don’t even have a license!” You elbow Bradley, laughing at his lofty dreams, “But a Bronco would be cool. You should send your dad a magazine clipping of one with your next letter and talk about how cool it is.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Bradley muses, a smear of chocolate over his lower lip that he doesn’t lick away.

You scoff, stomping on his foot where it’s planted in the grass beside your own. He jolts away with a yelp, and in doing so, jerks the swing he’s sitting on, He catches his balance and you notice the syrup on his lip, reaching out to clean it with your thumb.

“You’ve got hot fudge on your face, doofus,” You sneer, happy to return his teasing, “You eat like a toddler.”

“I’m not the one who put three cups of it on the sundae!” Bradley insists, and his lower lip catches your thumb as he speaks. Teenagers in love, you’re hyperaware of touches like that, and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. He notices it too, staring down wide-eyed at where your thumb hovers over his lips.

“Sorry,” He blurts, and in doing so, his warm breath fans over your hand. You jerk it away, eyes on the ground as you mumble away his concerns.

“It’s fine,” You mutter in a terrible attempt to remain nonchalant, “We’re not four, it’s not like I think you’ve got cooties or something.’

Bradley takes to the teasing, glad it’s not tense anymore, “That’s not what you say when I leave my underwear on the floor.”

“‘Cause that’s gross!” You launch into a rant, “That’s, like, personal! And they’re used too,” You shudder, handing him the sundae intent on scrubbing a hand over your face, “Nasty, bro.”

Despite your casual nickname for the boy beside you, you feel like anything but bros when his hand brushes yours. He takes the ice cream from you, and his hand half-closes around your own, sending a spark shooting up your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat again and this time Bradley hears it, looking at you through his lashes with those wide brown eyes.

Neither of you move away this time, frozen just like the treat in your joint grip.

You feel extra affection for the boy next to you today, the shared grief of losing your fathers every few months bringing you closer together. It’s what compels you to lean in, tilting your swing sideways to brush your lips over his own in a painfully awkward teenage-style kiss. Before you have the time to panic about whether you did the right thing, Bradley reciprocates, pursing his lips slightly to fit them around your top one. You follow his lead and it goes much better, a chaste kiss that’s sweeter than the chocolate staining your lips.

You’re glad you’d kissed him that day, you’re glad you had the balls to take the leap that resulted in a nearly twenty year long relationship. It would have been twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-five, fifty if you hadn’t chickened out two weeks ago, but you try not to think about that in the elevator lest you make yourself sick.

You find room 624 easily, the painted arrows on the floor leading you down the hallway that the room stands in. You wonder if you should knock first, you’re not too knowledgeable on hospital etiquette, but you decide that manners can be damned, your boyfriend- ex-boyfriend is in there.

You turn the handle and step inside, and Carole looks up from Bradley’s bedside immediately. You think she’s expecting a doctor, and her desperation for finding one breaks your heart. Her teary face splits into a sad smile, and she rushes to your side to envelop you in a hug. You let her have it because she’s grieving over her son, but you’re surprised she’s not immediately angry with you for breaking up with Bradley.

“Honey,” She gushes into your shoulder, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here! Brad’s gonna be okay, they said he’s just gonna need some help breathing until he gets stable. Then they can get him healthy and ready to go again!”

“That’s great,” You hold her close, relishing the last Bradshaw hug you’ll probably ever get, “Where’s Nick and dad?”

“Oh, they went to get food,” Carole releases you, swatting her hand in the air in an affectionately teasing manner, “You know those boys, always hungry for something.”

You laugh awkwardly, watching as she settles down by Bradley’s bedside again. She looks back up at you where you’re swaying on your feet, gesturing to the chair beside her, “Well come on, girl! Get in here!” She seems much more lively now that she has company, and you hate to think of her grieving her injured son alone.

“Oh- I, uh,” You stammer, darting for the seat beside her, “I wasn’t sure if-”

“Don’t worry,” She seems to misplace your concern, “He’s okay, sweetie-pie, you won’t hurt him just by breathin’ on him.”

“Right,” You smile, though its disingenuous with tension, “Um, so it was a mid-exercise crash?”

“Mhm,” Her face dims slightly, “Apparently there was some freak accident with one of the engines, 'set off the whole thing. And that’s two crashes in one week! First it was that Javy boy, I tell you, I think they should vet those engineers better. I mean, aren’t they supposed to catch that stuff beforehand?”

“Yeah,” You feel partially numb, but you’re not sure whether it’s emotional or physical. You’ve been trying to avoid looking at Bradley so far, using his bubbly, bouncing mom as a distraction, but now that the blonde has settled beside you your eyes drift.

He could be perceived as sleeping, if the color wasn’t drained from his face. His skin is still tan but it’s duller now, golden brown fading to a sickly, colder shade of it, like there’s no life beneath it. His eyes are shut and there’s a breathing tube up his nose; you wonder how pissed he’ll be when he wakes up to find out they’ve had to trim his mustache around the thing.

“Must be a Bradshaw family tradition,” Carole breaks your concentration, laughing weakly, her voice lined with a hint of tears, “Crashing, scarin’ their girls half to death.”

You remember the day of Goose’s crash like it was yesterday. You’d only been three at the time, freshly so. But grief like that, the panic you’d observed, doesn’t go away. It can’t be forgotten, it can’t drift out of your brain like so many memories do with age. You and Bradley had sat together in the hospital with Carole and your dad, and Nick still had the crummy plane drawings you’d done for him while waiting for him to wake up.

Carole’s usage of the phrase ‘their girls’ unnerves you. She’s been exceptionally nice to you so far, especially considering that she’s fiercely protective of Bradley, and should have kicked you halfway to Mars for ditching him like you’d done. But she’s leaning towards you in her chair, and you come to the dreadful realization that she doesn’t know you’ve broken up with Bradley.

“Now, I know you wanted to keep things hush-hush,” She gushes, happy to look at your animated face instead of Bradley’s still one for a moment. She reaches over to brace her hands on your knees, leaning eagerly into your space, “But I have to know, babycakes, how did it go?”

“Hm?” You look dazedly at her, still partially staring at Bradley.

“The proposal!” She squeezes your hands, sniffling weakly with the remnants of tears past, “I know that boy was finally manning up enough to ask you, 'should'a put a ring on you years ago."

Any other time, you'd groan at Carole's opinion on your relationship. She's been urging the two of you to tie the knot for decades, but you'd felt no burning desire to go to the courthouse. You were comfortable in your life, why spend an obscene amount of money to get a piece of paper that tells you you're in love? You knew that for free, in the way that Bradley looked at you, in the way that he memorized all of your fast food orders, in the way that his hand so often found yours beneath the sheets in his sleep. Now her teasing is a sore spot, one that gapes the wound already bleeding in your chest.

"-But when I asked him how it went he said he’d ‘share the details later’. I’m sure you wanted to make some big announcement or something, but I need this right now, honey, tell me what happened.”

She’s staring at you like she always has, like you’re the sweet little girl she helped raise when your mama had chickened out. Cowardice must run in the family.

There’s such pretty hope shining in her eyes that you can’t bear to crush it, ready to spew lies about how glorious Bradley’s proposal had gone, how you’d fallen to your knees to kiss him, how you’d shouted ‘yes!’ from the rooftops. Fortunately, you don’t have to lie to her, because the door opens and your dad and Nick step through.

“Hey,” Your dad cheers, tossing you a plastic-wrapped sandwich, “There you are, honey. I was worried you weren’t gonna show up, ‘thought you’d be mad at him or something.”

“You know she was mad at me when we went down?” Goose gestures to Carole incredulously, and you can’t see behind his sunglasses but you know he’s addressing you, “I wasn’t even flying the damn thing and I got lectured!”

He lets up, goes easy on Carole, you’re sure because he’d had to comfort her earlier. You see a slightly dark, damp patch on the left side of his Hawaiian shirt as he leans in to hug you, probably her tears.

“Good to see ‘ya, kid,” Nick rubs your back, “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, voice slightly shaky as you smooth your previously-folded hands down your thighs. The movement catches Carole’s attention, and you look away before you can see her reaction to your bare ring finger.

“He’ll be fine,” Goose leans over to slap Bradley’s calf, and Carole looks like she wants to scold him for it, as if he'll die right then and there, “He’s tough just like’is daddy.”

“His daddy should go get me some tea,” Carole huffs, placing her hand over Bradley’s as if it would make up for Nick’s slap, “And take Maverick with you, I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Oh, again-?” Goose grumbles, setting his lunch on one of the plastic chairs around Bradley’s bed, “You could’a told me that before we left, honey.”

“Didn’t want it until now,” Carole insists, “Now shoo, get some for Y/N, too.”

The second the door shuts behind the two men, a stiff silence falls over the room.

Carole’s sweet voice breaks it, but it’s the last thing you want to hear, “Where’s the ring?”

You stare at the sandwich in your lap, like it’ll open face and read like a book, giving you instructions on how to lie your way through this.

“I know he asked you,” She presses on, voice pitched up with tension, “I- I gave him the ring Nick used to propose to me. That was almost a month ago. We swapped it out for a wedding band, and- and I thought Bradley could use the engagement ring for you, too. I know he asked you.”

“Carole,” You can’t bear to look her in the eyes, not the woman who’d fed you macaroni and cheese when your dad was halfway around the world in a fighter jet and tucked you in extra tight during a rainstorm so that the lightning couldn't sneak through the gaps in the blankets to get you.

“No, tell me, where is the ring?” She raises her voice, the way she used to when Bradley would leave his scooter out in the rain to rust, “Just tell me-” Her voice peters out into a weak whimper, “-tell me you didn’t say no.”

“I’m a coward,” You finally mutter as her answer, hateful and wicked, “I got scared. I wish I’d said yes, really, I- I wish I could take it back, but-”

“What did you do?” Her face crumples at your admission and she nearly shrieks, squeezing her hand tighter over Bradley’s, “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I said no!” You sob, chest heaving as you wipe away a tear from your eye heavy-handed, “I was scared, Carole. After Coyote went down,” You blearily recall the last plane crash you’d heard about, a member of Bradley’s own squadron caught in a bird strike. He’d been fine, but waiting for the news took you right back to your youth, and you’d been hit with the striking realization that it could happen to Bradley, too. It could be you in that chair, it could be your love on the line. You’d been so sick with dread that you’d backed away altogether, running away to preserve your emotions.

“I just- I didn’t want it to happen to Bradley,” You confess, “I didn’t want it to happen to me. So when he asked, I was-” You sniffle, hard, “I was so scared. I didn’t want to marry him and then lose him. For some reason this-” You suppress a sob, throat aching and chest heaving, “-dating a pilot is different than marrying one. Dating is- it’s temporary, even if you plan on it lasting forever. It’s less serious, it’s not set in stone. But marriage-” You hiccup, “-marriage is the real deal. It's like- It's like I was dating Bradley, y'know, the teenage boy who took me to homecoming because I was sad no one asked me. But- but then all of a sudden I was marrying an aviator. And that’s- that was scary! That was real. I- we’d been together for twenty years!” You gush, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “I should have known marriage wouldn’t be any different. It’s not like we ever thought we’d break up,” You sniffle weakly, “Marriage was always sort of silly to me, 'cause we just thought we'd be together forever regardless. But I never realized how real it would feel. So I- I freaked out. When he asked me, I made up some stupid excuse, and I chickened out! But-” Your chest heaves with a sob as you finally lift your eyes to Bradley, “He crashed anyway. He went down even though I said no, and it still hurts.” You cry, face scrunched in despair, “It hurts so bad, Carole, I didn’t think it would still hurt.”

“You fool,” She huffs exasperatedly, but she reaches out to clutch your hand like a lifeline. She’s holding Bradley’s with her other, and you wish for a moment that you could cut out the middleman and hold his hand on your own. You don't feel worthy to touch him anymore. “You don’t stop loving someone by leaving them, you stop loving them by moving on. Of course it still hurts, you didn't move on; you still love him. And- and leaving him didn’t stop him from getting hurt, it just meant he probably went down wishing he got to tell you he loved you this morning, so you'd know.”

The thought breaks you, Bradley ejecting with you on his mind. Evidently he hadn’t fully accepted your breakup, not if he hadn’t even told his mom about it. You wonder if he was planning on trying to get you back, if after work today he would have come over with flowers and a thousand pleas on his lips that you didn’t deserve.

“He loves you,” She continues, tears wetting her own cheeks, “And even if you did say somethin’ stupid, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell that boy that’d make him stop loving you. Apologize when he wakes up, baby, he’ll understand. He'll be hurt, no doubt. But he’s been scared before, too, believe me.”

“I will,” You gush, nodding as she squeezes your hand and Bradley’s in sync, “I will, I promise! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Just make it right,” She pleads, “Can’t have you two splittin’ up now, not after all this time.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” You weep, holding your hands to your eyes as if you can plug up the tears, “I- I just panicked! And I’ve been a wreck ever since, I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t-”

“Tea’s here!” The door opens, and Nick is suddenly a lot quieter as he sees you bent in half and crying, “Oh, honey.”

“C’mere,” Your dad edges around Goose, squatting by the side of your chair while Carole rubs your back. He’s always been fantastic at comforting you, which you marvel at because he was so active in his career. He wasn’t always around when you were little, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how you liked your back rubbed, your hair done, and your cookies warmed.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Your dad soothes you, wiping a tear away from your face, with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Carole promises, and you know she’s talking about something else entirely, “It’s alright honey, it’ll all work out.”

Nick feels a bit useless now, standing there with two cups of tea in his hands while everyone else comforts you, but he’s quick to notice a frown work its way onto Bradley’s sleeping face.

“Brad- hey! Look,” He gestures with one cup of tea, only spilling a tiny drop, “I think he’s wakin’ up.”

All of a sudden you want to go home. You’re not sure you can do this, you don’t belong here with his grieving family. You belong in your bed, kicking yourself for your cowardice and wishing you’d done better by him.

But there’s no time to flee now, not again. This time you have to brave it, you have to watch as his big brown eyes slowly blink open, a haze of sleep and medication clouding them over.

“Agh,” He groans, hand twitching by his side, “What-?”

“Hey, Bradley.” Nick leans over the bed, tea now set aside on a tiny table, “How y’feelin’ bud? You had quite the plane crash.”

Bradley takes a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking blearily at your dad, then you, then his mom. His eyes drift back over to you and they feel like they’re lasers, boring searing holes through your chest where your heart used to be two weeks ago.

The slow and steady beeping that had been long since tuned out slowly started to increase while Bradley regained consciousness. Your dad looked warily at the machine, watching Bradley’s heart rate rise.

“I’ll get a doctor.” He ducks out, and Carole stands.

“We should go,” She grabs Nick’s hand, looking pointedly at you, “We’ll give you a minute alone with him, honey.”

Nick starts to protest about being led away, something about how ‘-he came outta my balls! I can’t see him when he wakes up in the hospital?’ but Carole’s already corralling him to the nurse’s station in search of your father. If you weren’t so fond of the woman you’d be cursing her for sticking you alone with Bradley, but you know you can’t let yourself succumb to fear again; this time you have to be a big girl.

“Baby,” Bradley rasps, turning your attention back on him. You watch him weakly, eyes apprehensive as he reaches for your hand, “C’mere.”

You hesitate, and he lets out a weak chuckle, “Come on, now. You’re not gonna kill me by holding my hand.”

“Bradley,” You sniffle, reaching out for his limp fingers on the bed, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” He smiles lazily, eyes drooping, “I’m okay. Comes in the job description, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” You repeat, grief-stricken as you clutch at his hand desperately, “I shouldn’t have left, I- I wish I had stayed.”

“Baby,” His brows furrow and he laughs sympathetically, “They wouldn’t have let you stay, you know that. I work on a naval base, not at a chipotle. You can’t sit with me all day. Plus, there was no way you would’ve known I was gonna go down. I’m glad you weren’t there, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that.”

All at once, your chest burns hot, blazing with panic. Is he not going to talk to you about it? Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to refuse to acknowledge what you’d said? You stammer, “What-?”

“Mr. Bradshaw!” The doctor comes in, cheery now that his patient is awake. You turn your head, still dazed and fear-stricken at Bradley’s demeanor. “Let’s see how you’re doing here. Any chest pain?”

“A little,” Bradley shifts in his bed, wincing infinitesimally.

“Probably just some discomfort due to the broken ribs. Headache?”

“Yeah,” Bradley admits with a groan, “That I’ve got.”

The doctor scribbles something down on his chart, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bradley strains to think, “I… don’t know. I don’t even-" He grimaces, "I don't even remember the crash, ‘just know it happened ‘cause he told me.”

Bradley raises a shaky finger to point at Nick, who’s happy to see his son gain some mobility back, even if he is worried for the boy. The three adults had filed back into the room after the doctor, and you pointedly avoid Carole’s imploring stare.

“Think hard,” The doctor commands, and you squeeze his hand like it’s a play-dough machine, like memories will ooze themselves into his brain in star shapes and heart cut-outs.

“I remember…” Bradley rasps, turning his hand beneath yours to grasp it, “Jake’s birthday party. That was-” He glances over at you, “-last night?”

“That was three weeks ago,” This time your heart rate is the one to rise, echoing dully in your ears like the soundtrack of a horror film, “Is that-” You sniffle, “Is that the last thing you can remember, B?”

His eyebrows raise and he tries taking in the information, “Yeah- uh, shit. Three weeks ago. What does that mean, doctor?”

“It sounds like you’ve developed post-traumatic amnesia.” The doctor scribbles once more on his paperwork, “The good news is, we think you have only a mild concussion. And amnesia induced by mild concussions typically lasts only up to a week or two at most. But there’s a very real chance you could remember everything in just a few minutes.”

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

“What I want you to do now is to rest, and we’ll have a nurse send up something to eat. Please,” The doctor eyes Nick knowingly, “Do not feed him the funyuns you’re holding behind your back.”

“Foiled again,” Goose laughs, tossing the packet of chips onto a chair beside his own lunch, “You got it, doc.”

“Alright, glad you’re awake,” The doctor bids you goodbye, “And- a nurse will be in to run a few simple tests later. For now, just sleep and eat.”

“Will do,” Bradley tries tightening his hand around yours but you worm away from him, and it’s heartbreakingly easy to do with his limited mobility. You stand abruptly, legs shaky and heart pounding in your chest as you stumble away from his bed.

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

“Honey?” Bradley calls warily, face scrunching into a tired frown.

His eyes follow you as you back right into your chair, the plastic scraping against the floor with an ungodly screech. Now the attention is all on you, and you give into that dreaded fight or flight response you seem to always fall victim to.

“I need to use the bathroom,” You ramble, rushing for the door, “I’ll be back!”

“Y/N-” Bradley tries calling, but his voice is weak enough where you can pretend you haven’t heard it as you try to refrain from running down the hall. You don’t make it ten steps before Bradley’s door closes with a sharp click, and the voice of one Carole Bradshaw cuts through the silence of the hallway.

“Y/N Mitchell!”

She’s using the same tone she used to use when you’d get in trouble for pulling a girl’s hair at school, or throwing mud at a boy who was mean to Bradley. You react just like you had then, spine stiffening and limbs locking.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” She warns, stomping towards you in her half-raised heels, “Turn around, young lady.”

You follow her orders even if the nickname is outdated. She’s got her pretty eyes narrowed, and as much as it pains you to be on the receiving end of one of her seldom-used withering stares, it’s better than being in there and watching Bradley’s eyes shift when he suddenly remembers you’d been the biggest douche on planet Earth.

“Did you apologize?” She inquires, and you nod obediently.

“But- but Carole, he doesn’t remember-!”

“He will,” She promises, “And when he does, you’d better apologize again. He needs you right now, y’know? He thinks it’s three weeks ago, before you ran off and left'im. As far as he knows, you’re still his adoring girlfriend who he’s probably yearning to see right about now. So go in there,” She reaches for your hand, “Kiss that boy on the mouth,” She demands, “And stop running away!”

“What? I can’t-” You gush, trying to pull away. But she’s stronger than Bradley is at the moment, and her hand tightens around yours, “I can’t lie to him! Not about this, I- how long am I supposed to pretend?”

“As long as you can,” She insists, already pulling you back towards his room, a woman on a mission, “You march right on in there, and tell him how worried you were, and let his memories come back to him on his own time. He’s traumatized right now, he just doesn’t know it yet, and he needs you there. If you break the news to him now, it’ll only stress him out more. Go play nice, and when he comes around in a few minutes, you can have a real talk.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” You lament, and she stops pulling you down the hall to narrow her eyes at you.

“Babydoll?” She asks sweetly, and fooled by her kindness, you hum in question, “I don’t give a shit.”

She’s never foul-mouthed, so it catches your attention. She holds your incredulous gaze, “You want him back?”

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

“Well as far as he knows, you haven’t.” She huffs, the fabric of her skirt flowing near her calves, “So get in there and be there for your boyfriend of twenty years, and when he suddenly remembers you aren’t his girlfriend anymore, Grovel. Sound like a plan?” She raises an eyebrow, and you tamp down the nerves rising in your chest. You nod cautiously, resolutely, and she loosens her grip on your hand. She still holds it to lead you back to the room, but she stops outside the door to speak one last time.

“I know you love him,” Her voice is softer now, genuinely sweet and caring, “And I also know you like to run when things get scary. And that’s understandable, but it’s not okay, not right now. You can’t stop loving someone just ‘cause you don’t wanna lose ‘em. It’ll hurt worse if you walk away.”

“I know,” You breathe shakily, squeezing her hand, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, sweetpea,” She smiles, tears still gathered in her eyes, “Now get in there and kiss my son.”

“There they are,” Your dad stands as you reenter the room, “You ladies have a nice bathroom break?”

“‘Had the time of our lives,” Carole nods, letting you take the seat closest to Bradley’s head. Your feet feel burdened with lead weights as you step towards his bedside, and he watches you with worried eyes. You’re sure he knows you weren’t really going to the bathroom, not with the way you’d fled, but you’re glad he’s choosing to pretend for your sake. He seems worried, though, and you curse yourself for making this about you.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for you as soon as you’re in reach, his voice still hoarse. His hand squeezes yours instantly, and you feel for the panic he's probably experiencing. He deserves a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold, and it should be someone better than you.

“Bradley,” You murmur back, trying to stop your lips from trembling, “I- can I kiss you?”

Carole’s voice rings in your ears, and you don’t have to turn around to know she’s smiling at the two of you. Bradley pauses, then his worried eyes soften and he nods weakly against the pillow.

“Oh,” Nick teases as you brace your hand on Bradley’s bed, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his lips, “Lovebirds!”

The kiss is nothing but awkward. It’s hesitant on your end, because you can’t believe you get to do it again. You’d really believed the goodbye kiss you’d shared with Bradley before he picked up dinner for the two of you would be your last one, so fitting your lips over his in the hospital seems like something otherworldly. You’re careful, too, because you don’t want to hurt him, not that you think you could ever smooch him to death. He doesn’t reciprocate much, he can’t, but the familiar prickle of his mustache against your lip is a welcome feeling that makes your heart feel light again, if only for a few seconds.

When you pull away, it’s gone. Because you have to look him in the eyes, the same ones you’d forced tears out of two weeks ago, and pretend like none of it happened at all.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You gush, voice cracking, and it feels right starting off with the truth. You can get to the lies later, the ugly little abominations you’re cooking up so that he preserves as much mental energy as possible while on bedrest. You know Carole’s right, you know he needs to heal as much as he can before you make it worse with the news, but lying feels so wrong. He’ll find out sooner or later, and what if he really was done with you? What if he hadn’t told his mom so that no family drama erupted, what if it wasn’t because he was going to try to get you back? What if he hated you, and what if he hates you even more when he knows you’re lying through your teeth to him?

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He promises, his fingers curling slowly and carefully around your own, "Are you? You ran off, I was worried."

"I'm fine," You insist, waving away his concern with a shake of your head.

He doesn't seem satisfied with your answer; he can read you like a book. But he accepts your answer, and you admire him for not wanting to pry in front of everyone. He changes the subject, glancing briefly around the hospital room, “Baby my- my phone, can I have my phone?”

“It’s here,” Your dad hands it to him, and Carole watches your eyes widen infinitesimally. What if Bradley sees his text conversations? What if he sees that you haven’t talked in half a month? What if he finds messages from someone on a dating app he’d used, a rebound-in-the-making?

What if he’s changed his background? What if he wants an answer as to why it’s probably some picturesque sunset, a jet plane cutting through the clouds above. Or maybe it’s of Lewis, he’d recently had photos restored of the dog.

What if he notices your contact name is changed to something like ‘Do not answer’? What if he realizes he’s blocked you? What if all of your pictures together are deleted off of his phone, and he wonders why?

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

“Coyote called,” Bradley rasps, upon first sight of his screen. Then, “Hangman. Twice. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, I- I should send out a message.”

“I will!” You lunge for your own phone, digging in your back pocket with suspicious urgency, “Uh, I’ll let everyone know, you just- just rest.”

“Okay,” Bradley hesitates for only a second, letting his grip go loose around his phone so that it falls back to the bed.

He seems content to let you do it, if only a little deterred by your insistence. But you’ll play the part of the fussy girlfriend, not wanting her injured love to work harder than he has to.

Nick and Pete take the time that you’re creating a group thread to question Bradley more on his memories, and every answer he gives sets your heart on edge. Your fingers feel numb as you type out ‘Rooster’s stable now, he has a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but the doctors say he’ll recover fully. His memories are a little hazy from the past few weeks but apparently those will be back soon. I’ll send you any updates we get.’

Before anyone even has a chance to reply, you set the thread on silent. You can’t bear even getting a notification that the message can’t be sent, because you’re sure Bradley’s team aren’t too fond of you right now, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d blocked you in solidarity for their friend. But Bradley hadn’t even told his mom, would he have told his team? Would he even need to? Or would they notice the circles beneath his eyes worsening, the stubble adorning his cheeks from a lack of motivation to do anything productive? Or, maybe even worse, would they have seen him with another girl hanging off of his arm at a bar? Would they have caught him out to lunch with a woman and figured it out themselves?

“Hey,” Bradley rasps, effectively breaking your zoned-out worry spiral. Your eyes don’t lose their intensity but they focus on his pale face, and he offers you a weak smile, “Anyone respond?”

“Always the attention seeker,” Nick laughs, creating a distraction so perfect that you don’t bother checking the text to answer Bradley. “Should we tell ‘em to bring flowers too, Brad?”

“Shut up,” Bradley’s voice is far too quiet to be menacing, but it’s the type of teasing he always engages in with his old man, “When you were in the hospital you said I had to draw you one picture a day or you’d think I didn’t love you.”

“And I only got fifteen out of eighteen,” If Goose is capable of a withering stare, it’s what’s directed at Bradley now, “I can’t believe I bought a Bronco for a kid who doesn’t love me.”

“Alright, you two,” Carole swats at her husband’s arm, “Cut it out, don’t overwhelm him.”

“His heart’s beatin’ real fast,” Nick snickers, “But that’s probably ‘cause Miss Mitchell is doting all over him.”

The attention’s back on you, and it means Bradley’s waiting to hear your response. You dry swallow after sending Nick a good-natured eye-roll, trying to act like your heart isn’t beating ten times faster than Bradley’s.

Miraculously, nothing awful awaits you in the group chat. There’s no error messages, no scolding, no pledges of hatred for you, and it makes you think that you really might be able to get away with this for a while. Carole won’t tell, and that doctor said Bradley might not retain his memories for weeks. It’s like everyone has hit undo on what might be your biggest mistake in life, and you don’t know how to take the opportunity.

“Bob says he hopes you recover soon,” You push the panicked fog out of your head, reading in a low voice, “Hangman says he’s gonna give you flying lessons when you get back so that you,” You snort softly, “Get the hang of it, and to that, he is receiving a barrage of middle finger emojis.”

Rooster lets out a laugh, one that’s genuine and thick from his chest. It’s unlike his voice has been so far, it’s not fractured or achy, and the sound warms your heart. Some of the sickly despair that’s been coating your heart like globs of poison dries up, and you almost feel normal again when you slide your hand into his. He holds your back, and it’s like nothing’s ever happened.

You have your Bradley back; the only question is for how long.

Lunch is a sorry state of affairs for Bradley. His tray consists of chicken and gravy that runs into his mashed potatoes, and the jello they give him has a layer of cherry red liquid pooling overtop. You and Carole take turns spoon-feeding the man, giving each other a chance to mow through your sandwiches between bites.

Your dad watches out for the doctors while you sneak Bradley some of your sandwich. It’s cafeteria turkey, and honestly you’d rather go for the chicken on his plate, but he hums gratefully at the spread of mayonnaise and mustard on the bread.

“Thanks, babydoll.” He croons, a smear of mashed potatoes in his mustache that you wipe away with watery eyes at the nickname. He puckers his lips to kiss at your thumb and it’s like you’re at home on his birthday, feeding him in bed and stealing kisses between bites.

Bradley’s eyes start to droop halfway through his watery jello, and your dad stands, brushing sandwich crumbs off of his jeans.

“Alright, buddy,” He squeezes Bradley’s foot reassuringly, “I’ll head out. Probably best to let you sleep. Get some rest, and make her give us updates,” He narrows his eyes at you, accusatory, “I know you’ll be too wrapped up in him to remember we exist, but take some time away from his lips to tell me if he’s still breathing out of ‘em, m’kay?”

“Don’t be makin’ out too much, “Nick goads, standing when Carole grabs his hand and does herself, “His heart rate’ll skyrocket and the nurse is gonna think he’s havin’ a heart attack!”

‘Yes, yes, they love each other very much,” Carole hums, leaning down to kiss Bradley’s forehead. He leans into it but his hand stays in yours, and you gladly accept the same gesture from the woman on your cheek, “Let’s leave him be, okay? Brad, I’m coming back tomorrow morning,” She promises, “Your dad and Pete have some work to do in the backyard, but they’ll join us after lunch.”

The men don’t seem to have known about this yard work until now, and they share equally exasperated groans.

“And I’ll be here,” You throw in, meeting Carole’s appreciative gaze, “I’ll stay until they throw me out.”

“You could always handcuff yourself to the bed,” Your dad hums, and you pointedly ignore Goose’s comment about the pair of handcuffs you ‘probably keep in your nightstand.’ It gets him a sharp smack upside the head from your dad, and you’re sure Nick will choose a better audience next time.

“We love you,” Carole promises, squeezing Bradley’s arm as he bids her goodbye, “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby!”

“Love you,” Bradley hums, voice less gruff than before now that he’s used it again, “See you tomorrow.”

The entire time he’s been awake, he hasn’t let go of your hand. He turns to you with those sleepy eyes of his, big and brown and begging for a kiss. You lean in before you can stop yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

His heart rate picks up.

You laugh against his mouth at the increased beeping, and he’s barely sheepish as he nudges his nose against your own. You feel like you’re loving on borrowed time, like any second now he’ll be slammed with the memory of you breaking his heart, stomping all over it like it hadn’t been yours for the past 20 years - maybe all of your life.

“I love you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, I- I love you so much. I don’t remember anything,” He’s slurring his words slightly with fatigue, and you kiss the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “But I know you could have lost me forever, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to handle.”

He has no idea how true his words are. Of course, you’d nearly lost his life to the crash. But two weeks earlier, you’d lost his touch, his voice, his gaze, his love, and you’re grateful the tears that line your eyes look natural.

“Mhm,” You nod, sniffling, “It was- it was hard, Brad.” You admit, thinking back to the night you’d left. You’d checked into a shitty motel for the night, and you’d cried yourself sick in the shower. Even after your stomach was emptied you couldn’t bring yourself to eat for two days afterwards, and you’d only given into the mini fridge after nearly passing out. Your days were long and spent regretting your decision, wondering if you’d ever be happy without him by your side, and worrying that he might be able to.

“I just keep wanting to do it over,” You gush, feeling his hand tighten around your own as you sob, “I- I wanted to take it back, to-” You swallow a sob, remembering your lines, “-to stop you from going to work. If I’d just made you stay…” Your face crumples with a gush of tears you aren’t able to hold back, and you give up on speaking for now.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Bradley hums, kissing the space between your nose and your cheek. It’s all he can reach from the way you’re sobbing into his pillow, and you’re thankful for the comfort you might not be able to get soon.

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” He promises, and you nestle your head into his own to absorb his soothing voice, “My plane was still the one with the defect, baby. I would have gone down tomorrow if not today. ‘S only a matter of time.”

A wave of sickness washes over you at his choice of words, and you nod, trying to regain a grip. You lift yourself up from the pillow, neck aching as you crane it to kiss his chin. He smiles at you, his eyes so genuine and sweet that it makes you want to lose your lunch; it’s an expression you don’t deserve anymore, even if you long for it. It’s only a matter of time before he remembers everything, and you don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t want you anymore.

“You’re tired,” You hum, and he nods against the pillow, “Sleep, baby. You need rest.” You sniffle, wiping away a tear from your eye more forcefully than you need to. You try to lean back in your chair but Bradley stiffens, and feel him tighten his grip on your hand.

“Please don’t leave me,” He begs, and more of that nausea comes rolling in. They’re the exact words he’d whimpered just next to your ear two weeks ago, keeping the door closed with one hand while the other wound around your waist. Then, you’d wormed your way out of his grip, ripping the door open despite his efforts to stop you and running off to your car. Now though, you meet his eyes, scared and desperate and lost, and you nod, scooting forwards to lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll stay,” You promise, and he raises a hand to brace it against your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm, and he strokes a thumb over your face, “I’ll stay, Bradley, I promise.”

The nap that you take on Bradley’s chest is the best sleep you’ve had since you left. Being in his embrace once more practically erases your undereye circles, and it takes you a few seconds after you wake up to remember that anything is out of the ordinary in the first place. Then it all comes flooding back, and you cycle through each stage of grief respectively while still slumped onto the bed. Then you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you realize that Bradley’s nurse has shaken you awake.

“Hi,” The man smiles down at you, “Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you didn’t want to wake up.”

“Oh,” You laugh hesitantly, slipping out from beneath Bradley’s hand and wiping away a slight glob of drool that had accumulated around the corner of your mouth, “No, no, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“Dinnertime,” Another nurse chimes from by the door, carrying another tray of meat and potatoes for Bradley, “Around six-thirty, Miss Mitchell.”

“You’re welcome to eat here with him,” The first nurse informs you, “But you’ll have to get something from the cafeteria, or order in. And visiting hours end at eight,” He levels you with a sympathetic smile, “But if you’ve got one bite left I won’t kick you out.”

“Thank you,” You chuckle wearily, your voice barely thickened with tears, “I appreciate that. Bradley,” You hum, squeezing his hand and stroking your free one through his hair, “Wake up, baby. They brought you some dinner.”

He comes to groggy, and you don’t blame him. He blinks a few times, then recognition washes over his face as he remembers why he’s there, and hopefully nothing else.

The nurses get busy with moving his bed, pressing buttons on the little remote strapped to the side until he’s inclined enough to eat his meal. The tray hooks into the sides of the bed so that he doesn’t have to hold anything, but you take his fork for him anyways, leaving his hands completely free.

“Thank you,” You nod gratefully at the nurses when they retreat for the door, a smear of mashed potatoes already gathered on the utensil in your hand. Bradley’s happy to let you feed him, humming at the taste of the beef they’ve given him.

“Better than the chicken,” He hums, his voice gaining back a bit of its grating quality from earlier. He’s usually rough-voiced after a nap, so you don’t worry too much about it. Typically you indulge in his raspy morning voice, but now it seems insensitive.

“Good,” You croon, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy onto a bite of the beef, “And it doesn’t bother your stomach?”

“What’s there to upset it, salt?” He grumbles around a mouthful, “Barely tastes like anything.”

“Sorry, Brad,” You hum, stroking a stray strand of caramel colored hair back into place, “I’m not supposed to feed you anything else, though.”

“I know,” He relents, lips puckering to kiss your wrist instead of wrapping around the spoon in your hand, “Not your fault, baby. But,” He rears back to takes the bite, chewing thoughtfully while you wait for his next sentence, “Can you bring me cookies tomorrow?”

You laugh, trying to keep it quiet in the slowly darkening hospital room. There’s no one around, and the door is closed, but his voice isn’t loud and you don’t want to overpower him.

“I just said I wasn’t allowed to feed you anything else,” You roll your eyes affectionately, a teasing gesture you thought you’d never be able to do with the man anymore, “What makes you think I’d bring you cookies?”

“Um, ‘cause you love me?” Bradley drawls, voice finally rising to a healthy volume. Maybe it’s the food in his stomach, or maybe it’s a switch that was suddenly flipped in his chest, but he sounds like himself again.

His words sober your fantasy intoxication, and you smile sadly at him where he lays in his bed. You set the fork down to lay your hand over his cheek, your palm soaking in the warmth of his skin that’s newly returned.

“I do love you,” You promise, leaning in to kiss him. You have to lean over his plate to do so, and you’ll worry later about any potential gravy stains on your shirt. You go slow and gentle, worried that he’ll push you away for reasons he doesn’t remember yet. But he doesn’t. In fact, when you pull away to give him some air, he catches your wrist in a surprising display of agility for his weakened muscles, and you freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, mustache shifting slightly with his apology, “I can’t stop thinking about you getting that call. I never-” His voice cracks, “I never wanted you to go through that.”

“Me neither,” You feel tears pricking at your eyes again, the same that are shining in Bradley’s, “But you don’t have to be sorry. None of this was your fault, and what matters is that you’re okay now. I have you back, Bradley, I- I didn’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” He vows, and your lips sting with the force of your bite to repress a sob.

He lifts his head from his pillow, the first time he’s done it since waking up. He kisses your temple as you try not to cry, lips dotting staccato kisses against your skin as you tremble slightly.

“I promise, baby,” He hums softly into your skin as his hand comes up to hug you, “You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” You cry, your fist gripping his hospital gown desperately. You want to believe him but it’s not even really Bradley talking, it’s three-weeks-ago Bradley that doesn’t remember you walking out of his life for self-preservation. It’s Bradley that doesn’t know the worst of you yet, but who could remember at any moment and cast you away.

“You won’t, I promise.” He coos, stroking up and down your back. You feel silly, accepting comfort from a hospital patient who went down in a fighter jet less than 24 hours ago, but you feel even sillier that it's the same man you’d torn to shreds days prior. But he’s comforting you, he’s rubbing your back, he’s kissing your face, and he’s promising you that you’ll never lose him, so you let him, because you love hearing him lie, even if he doesn't know he's doing it.

“You promise?” You look up at him with watery eyes that blur out his face, but you see him nod. It’s unfair to ask, not when he doesn’t have the knowledge to truly promise. He cranes his neck forwards to bump noses with you, letting you cry against his skin.

“I do, honey.” He nods, holding you close like you’d never left at all, “I promise.”

Going from crying into each other’s embraces back to eating bland mashed potatoes is hard, but you ease Bradley into it with a bite of granola bar you’d found in your purse. He’s grateful for something with flavor, and you’re glad to finally be rid of the half-eaten snack.

“Oatmeal raisin cookies, please,” Bradley begs as he chews the snack, going as far as to bat his pretty lashes at you, brown eyes shiny with hope.

You scoff, wiping a tear away from your face with a fond, albeit trembling smile, “Okay, Brad. Oatmeal raisin.”

“You’re the best,’ He hums, grinning with a mouthful of oats and chocolate. You check your phone to find that you’ve only got twenty minutes left until visiting hours are over, and your eyes dim as you glance back up at him.

“I have to go soon,” You lament, “Visiting hours are over in twenty.”

His face fades from its pretty smile, some of the newfound color draining from his skin once more. You’re sure he’ll have a nightmare tonight, something about jet crashes and dying alone, and you hate leaving him here so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You sniffle, squeezing his hand, “They open back up at 8 tomorrow, so as soon as I make those cookies I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know,” He nods, raising your intertwined hands to kiss at your wrist, “It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

“I’d sneak you into my bed,” Bradley grins sadly, “S’alright, baby, just get a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after today.”

“You too,” You squeeze his hand, smiling sweetly at him, “And if you have a nightmare, text me, and I’ll crawl through the window, ‘promise.”

He laughs again, and now that he’s got most of his strength back it’s a normal sound. It’s not weak, it’s not subdued, it’s perfect. It’s Bradley.

“I’d like to see you try,” He teases, and you wipe a smear of chocolate off of his lower lip, remembering the first time you’d ever done that with a fond smile.

“I’m on the sixth floor.” He reminds you, and you shrug, sucking the chocolate off of your finger.

“Meh,” You crumble up the granola bar wrapper in your fist, “I could scale that easy.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I bet you could,” Bradley chuckles, “You’re Spider-Man, suddenly? Sticking to walls? I must have forgotten your transformation.”

“Yeah, you did,” You grin with a laugh, “Actually, while I rushed over here to see you, a truck full of radioactive spiders crashed, and I got bitten by one. You’ve missed a lot, Brad.”

“Right,” Bradley’s brows raise, eyes alight with amusement, “Those radioactive spider trucks are a real nuisance, I hear.”

Giggling sweetly with him feels normal. The kind of normal you crave, the kind that isn’t settled for, but yearned for. And you’re clinging to it, pushing the truth out of your mind and playing the part perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts your gigglefest and you turn in time to see the nurse from before entering, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“I’m supposed to kick you out,” He jokes, holding Bradley’s chart, “And you’re free to sleep whenever, Mr. Bradshaw, we don’t need to conduct any more tests tonight. You’re just here to be monitored."

“Alright,” Bradley nods and you stand, still clasping his hand in yours. The doctor busies himself with straightening up the chairs around the bed, and you take the privacy he so kindly grants you.

“Sleep good,” You recite your pre-bedtime deployment sendoff to Bradley, the phrase having gathered dust in the back of your head since his last overseas assignment, “Sweet dreams, and call me when you can.”

“I will,” Bradley leans up to kiss you, going for your lips, then your cheek, then your chin, “You too, baby. Get some rest. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” You beam down at him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, “You’re okay, Brad.”

"See you tomorrow!" He calls as you leave, and you turn to nod.

"See you tomorrow, baby." You promise once more, hand on the door handle, "Goodnight."

“Sleep well, Mr. Bradshaw,” The nurse bids Bradley goodbye with a smile and a nod as you trail out behind him, and at the click of the door behind the two of you, it’s like you’re the recovering amnesia patient. Now that Bradley’s not there anymore, not smiling at you, not telling you he loves you, it’s like you can’t be sure of anything, like you’re still that imposter you’d been when you’d first stepped in. You come to the sickening realization, only after the fact, that you'd loved lying to Bradley, and it makes you feel worse. Your reverie is shattered, and the nurse beside you notices your shaky breathing as you trail down the hallway.

“Miss, are you okay?” His brows furrow in concern, and you nod.

“Yeah, just-” You smooth your hands down your pants, your palms sweaty, “It’s a lot. Being in there, seeing him like- like that. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”

“No one is,” The nurse smiles sympathetically at you, leading you to an elevator, “But he’s right, Miss Mitchell. He’ll be alright. And hopefully, his memories will restore themselves overnight. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up remembering it all.”

You’re sure that was meant to soothe you, but it’s only sent more nausea rolling through your body. You nod, forcing a smile as the doors shut between you, “Thank you, Nurse.”

Once the doors shut, you want to burst into tears. You don’t want the reception desk to see that, though, so you rush through the motions of leaving, practically running to your car. Once you’re safely inside the floodgates open, and you’re surprised you don’t trigger the horn from how hard you’re sobbing against the steering wheel.

You try to channel Bradley’s voice, ‘I promise baby, you won't lose me.’ but it makes things worse, it piles guilt on top of your sickness and makes you want to run away again. Because he’d promised you that he’d never leave you, not that he’d ever let you come back if you’d left him. And that’s what you’re worried about now.

Running away hadn’t stopped anything bad from happening, it just made you feel worse when bad things did happen. Thankful for your second chance, you swear to yourself in the stuffy silence of your car that you’ll do anything to fix this, and that you’re not going to fuck this up again because you’re scared. Love is scary, giving yourself completely to another person is scary, but Bradley’s always been good at soothing your fears, and there’s no one you’d rather give yourself to.

You steel yourself as you prepare to drive back to your motel, but second-guess it when you remember that Bradley has his phone with him. You have each other shared on Find My Friends, and he doesn’t normally check it unless he’s worried about your safety, but you’re paranoid that he’ll find your pin at a crappy motel and know something is wrong. So you punch in Bradley’s address instead, the one you used to share with him, still labeled as ‘home’, and set off.

The drive looks familiar in no time, and it reminds you of how much you’d missed it. The big oak tree on your neighbor’s lawn, the flag perpetually at half-mast because the man across the street fell while adjusting it and never fixed it, the tricycle on the sidewalk beside your front door that the toddler next door always seemed to leave on your walkway. You check the mail and feel something stabbing at your chest when your name is on one of the letters, and your house key is cold with disuse as you slide it into the slot.

You hesitate when the doorknob turns beneath your fingers. Walking into Bradley’s space will tell you exactly how he feels about what happened between you. There’s either going to be empty bottles strewn everywhere with pictures laying around covered in tear stains, or there’s going to be a hot pink bra in his bed, and a new woman’s makeup kit in his bathroom. Hell, maybe she’ll even still be there, maybe you’re about to walk in on your replacement.

But the promise you’d made to yourself in the car wasn’t for show, and you turn the knob after taking a deep breath, stepping into the darkened home.

You call out an uncertain ‘hello?’ into the place, waiting with bated breath for a woman’s voice to respond. But it never does, and you flick the light on beside the door.

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

It’s messy. Not exactly the outwardly disastrous type of messy you’d imagined earlier, but knowing all of the little things about Bradley means that you know he’s let himself go over the past two weeks. His running shoes are gathering dust by the door, which seems to suggest that he’s been lazing in bed just like you have. The living room is pristine, the pillows all arranged the way you set it up that Bradley doesn’t care to replicate, and you wonder if he’s sat on the couch at all the entire time since you’ve been gone. There’s no grocery list on the fridge and upon further inspection, the appliance is close to empty, one lonely beer left alongside ketchup, mustard, and a rotting head of lettuce. Unless he was eating the worst burgers known to man, you don’t think he’s been eating anything from the kitchen. Your heart aches for Bradley; you hope he’s been ordering food in.

Walking through the space is like revisiting a crime scene as the killer. Everything here is because of you, the pictures stripped from the walls are gone because of you, the lonely toothbrush in the dual holder is because of you, the neatly made side of the bed with its messy counterpart is because of you.

You realize that it’s your side that’s slept on, Bradley’s still tucked neatly in place, unused. You spot a red covering over your pillow, reaching for it and finding it to be an old t-shirt of yours that Bradley had raided your dresser drawers for. It’s one he’d bought you at a tourist trap on your vacation a few years ago, and it was your favorite to lounge in. You notice a dark spot on the fabric and only then realize that you’re crying, that it’s a tear that had fallen from your eye. Then it’s like everything hits you all at once, and you sink onto the mattress clutching the pillow. It smells like Bradley, and you know he’s been clinging to it every night, a thought that solidifies your sneaking suspicion that you might be the worst person on the planet.

You curl up and cry there, you don’t know for how long. All you can do is sob, soak your pillow with tears that you thought you were out of, clutch the bedsheets like they’ll reveal Bradley, hidden underneath and eager for a cuddle. This bed feels as empty as the motel’s had, maybe even emptier, because you’ve never slept in it away from Bradley. When he’s on deployment you always have a sweatshirt of his and a picture of him tucked under the pillow, but you know it won’t be there now. Now you’re alone, really alone.

Your eyes droop and you know you need sleep, especially if you’re going to wake up early to make Bradley cookies in time for visiting hours to start. But you can’t bring yourself to sleep without the picture of him under his pillow, so you stumble out of bed to fetch it from your box of memories.

Your fingers close around the slightly wrinkled photo, a shot of you in a gown and Bradley in a suit. It’s one you’d taken yourself at your graduation, high school turned college sweethearts. He had wanted admission into the Naval Academy, but in order to spend more time with you, you’d enrolled together at a university. It’s your favorite photo to have with you, and you reach out to Bradley’s pillow to slide it underneath. Upon lifting the pillow, you find a stack of pictures already there. Each one of you, most with Bradley pictured in them too. They only make you cry harder, and you recognize some as the inserts of the picture frames that had been taken down from the hallway.

It looks like Bradley hoarded photos of you, and some are stiff and stained with tears. The sight is something out of a movie, a dramatic indication of the inner turmoil of its main character. You see a shot of your silhouettes together, faces darkened by the sun streaming in behind you. You’re kissing on the beach, and without paying much mind to the structural integrity of the photo, you clutch it to your chest.

You’re a wreck. You just want your Bradley back, but your Bradley isn’t yours anymore. You want three-weeks-ago Bradley back, the one who you didn’t run away from. But he’ll probably have his memories back by tomorrow, and there’s no telling if he’d even want you to visit again. Looking at the sorry state of his apartment, you know he misses you, but whether he wants you back is another question altogether. All you can do is wait and worry, and worry you do. As you sob and heave in the bed, your brain shuts down, and eventually you drift into a dreamless, unpleasant sleep, nose still buried in your shirt that smells like Bradley.

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aemondsbabe · 2 months

Text

A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?”

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.”

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home.

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well.

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it.

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement.

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was.

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk.

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it.

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face.

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you.

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings.

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly.

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does.

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin.

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks.

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor.

“A… A great victory, master!”

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare.

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?”

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you.

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall.

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded.

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –”

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately.

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always!

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything.

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts.

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.”

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow.

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours.

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad.

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer.

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet.

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone.

A kindness, even now.

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly.

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.”

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head.

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers.

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot.

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter.

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace.

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow.

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.”

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.”

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them.

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way.

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill.

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again.

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?”

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip.

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his.

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same.

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you.

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers.

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself.

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises.

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples.

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm.

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold.

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine.

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking.

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives.

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason.

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his.

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm.

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend.

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine.

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her.

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion.

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore.

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now.

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again.

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you.

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say.

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly.

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close.

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew.

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips.

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you.

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else.

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet.

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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biaonww · 2 months

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"something about you" rin itoshi based • angst based on not-so-bf trope <3

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

watching rin itoshi’s match is always mesmerizing. he shines in destroying things that are close to him.

it’s complete monstrosity when he plays, which is the complete opposite of his brother sae’s gameplay.

a completely calculated person, while rin is a monster.

but still—

why does rin still shine so much?

why does he stand out the most in your eyes, as if he was a twinkling star in the sky you would wish on?

why is he so captivating, yet always out of your hand?

bothered by your thoughts, rin wins his match. of course, another easy win for him.

… but its noisy. it hurts your ears.

announcers announcing his win.. interviewers excitingly waiting for him to get out of the stadium and start asking him questions… the horn sounds and people shrieking….

but everything goes quiet when he manages to find you straight away.

no matter how many people are in the stalls—

his eyes always seem to capture you.

those beautiful eyes that could even challenge a diamonds beauty.

but there he is again, confusing you.

he’s looking at you pleadingly, right after he scored the last shot.

shouldn’t he be focused on the crowd, and the way they scream his name in joy?

did he maybe finally realize that he left you mesmerized every single time?

did he maybe finally realize that you were always admiring him from afar?

or will he push you away again when he gives you mixed signals?

you sigh thinking of it, so you stand up, going to the exit of the stadium.

but once you finally reach the corridor, you see rin.

so you pause from walking, while he jogs towards you.

“you should celebrate your win, itoshi.” you remark.

“don’t call me itoshi.” he says in a tone that sounds like he’s still trying to catch his breath, while gripping your arm tightly.

(but of course, not in a way that would hurt you. he wouldn’t want that.).

“i think it is only proper of me to call you itoshi. considering you never let me see what’s under your disguise.”

“i said don’t call me itoshi.”

“fine then.”

“— you know what, rin? i actually think it’s better if you keep pushing me away.”

“i mean i don’t know if you’re just another unreachable dream, or a one-in-a-million person i can achieve.”

“but i also don’t know if you’ll destroy me. which i’m scared of.”

“after all, you said everything that grows close to you soon tears down.”

you look at the floor, eyes slowly but surely becoming watery.

rin stays quiet, his gaze softening when you immediately look down.

“… if you’re scared of me destroying you, then i’ll try and treat you like a delicate flower.”

“if you ever get scared, i’ll stay by your side to keep you safe.”

“if you hate the noise, then i’ll cover your ears for you.”

“if i don’t show my true self to you, then i’ll lower my guard for you.”

“just don’t leave like everyone does. not like nii-san.”

“but instead stay. i’m humbly asking you to stay right now.”

“i’m sorry that i give you mixed signals. but give me a chance to prove myself to you, please?”

“i’m not perfect. i’m not the best yet. love is foreign to me. we may have fights and disagreements when we’re together. but for you, i’ll try.”

you finally look up at him, the tears in your eyes spilling out already.

but he wipes them for you, and looks at you so fondly.

“then why couldn’t you do all this in the first place, you idiot?” you mumble.

“i’m sorry.”

“but what’s your answer? will you accept me, or not?”

he chuckles softly, slowly letting down his facade for you. and only you.

“… you know it’s a yes, rin.”

— fin.

now that im rereading this, it actually looks so SHITTY WTF... but i hope its good enough to be posted </3 reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated pls !! (btw, tags kinda foreshadow the fic so hehe)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock angst #bllk angst #itoshi rin angst #bluelock #blue lock x you #rin itoshi fluff #rin itoshi angst

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bellaireland1981 · 10 months

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Special Delivery for the Birthday Boy

Summary: You enlist Phoenix’s help to surprise your husband on his birthday. You’d been living on opposite coasts since he’d been called back to Top Gun and you were ready to reunite with him just in time to celebrate his birthday. An added bonus is you also get to surprise the rest of the Daggers who have no clue that Bradley is married.

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of birthday sex but no actual smut, mentions of pregnancy.

A/N: I do not own TGM characters, I DO NOT give permission to anyone to repost, copy or translate my work to any other platform or website. Don’t steal my work... it’s not cool. AS always thank you to @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls for letting me bounce ideas off them and encouraging me!! Reblogs and comments always appreciated!

Masterlist

Side note: Meant to get this posted yesterday but wanted to redo a few things on it...still not 100% sure I love how it turned out but...here you go!

YOU: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! I LOVE YOU! I’ll be in interviews all day but I’ll FaceTime you tonight. Fly Safe! 💋

HUBBY: Thank you, Dove. I miss you so much 🙁 Wish you were here. Love you 💗

“Are you sure he doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked, putting your suitcase into the back and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks again for coming to get me!”

“Y/N, I promise, he’s absolutely clueless.” Phoenix assured you, smiling. “He’s been moping around all day because he can’t get a hold of you. And you’re welcome! I can’t wait to see his face!”

“I can’t wait to see his face either… I miss that face.” You said, leaning back in the seat. “I’ll be so happy when we’re living on the same damn coast again.”

“When will that be?” She asked, merging into the traffic leaving the San Diego International Airport. “Rooster mentioned you had some loose ends to tie up out East.”

“That’s part of his birthday present.” You said beaming, “I actually just accepted a teaching position for the fall. I had an interview over Zoom yesterday. Bradley thinks I’m in interviews all day today.”

“Y/N that’s awesome!” Phoenix exclaimed, “He’ll be so damn excited.”

“I’m excited.” You laughed, “I’ve had enough of being across the country from my husband. Especially after the last mission. How are things really going with him and Maverick?”

“Honestly?” She said, “Much better than when we got back to Top Gun. They’ve talked and are actively trying. It’s been really good for Rooster.”

“Good.” You replied, “I’ve been trying to get him to reach out for a few years. He just wasn’t ready. I’m glad he got this chance. It’ll be interesting to meet the man.”

“He’s a good guy.” She said, “Bob and I are the only ones that know about you, by the way.”

“I figured.” You laughed. “I’m kind of looking forward to that bombshell being dropped too. From everything I’ve heard about everyone, the reactions should be priceless. I’m especially looking forward to Hangman’s reaction.”

“Oh, this will be absolutely priceless.” Phoenix laughed, “For as much shit as he gives Rooster for never hitting on women at the Hard Deck and not having any game… he’s going to have to eat his words. He’ll most likely hit on you though if he meets you before knowing you’re married to Rooster.”

“Are things better between them though?” You asked, “I know Hangman wasn’t Bradley’s favorite person… and they’ve butted heads in the past. When it counted though, that man came through for my husband and it’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

“They’ve formed a tentative friendship.” She said, “It’s new… but there is a strong mutual respect between them. They’ve flown better together in training since the mission…have become a pretty damn good team actually.”

“It makes me feel better knowing he’s got the best pilots in the Navy flying with him.” You said, “I always felt safer when I knew he was deployed with you.”

“Just because you know I’ll keep his ass out of trouble.” She laughed. “I get it though. You have to trust your wingman. This last mission showed us that we can really all trust one another to come through for each other.”

She pulled into the driveway of her apartment complex parking her car and the two of you got out. You grabbed your suitcase from the back and followed her up to her apartment.

“Ok I just need like a half hour to shower and get ready!” You said, “Then I’ll be ready to go!”

“Take your time.” She laughed, “I’ll grab a towel for you. While you shower, I’ll text the group. Jake is actually in charge of getting Bradley to the Hard Deck for birthday drinks.”

You opened your suitcase, pulling out a sundress you’d left on top for easy access. It was one of Bradley’s favorites on you so you made sure to pack it. You grabbed the strapless bra and matching lace panties you’d bought to wear with the dress and headed to the shower. You tied your hair up so it wouldn’t get wet and quickly jumped into the shower.

True to your word, thirty minutes later you were dressed and ready to go. You’d left your hair down, opted for light makeup and only wore a necklace Bradley had given you for your anniversary (a Dove pendant on a dainty silver chain). You slipped your feet into wedge sandals and grabbed your purse and the small gift bag with Bradley’s other birthday present in it and headed out to the living room where Phoenix was waiting.

“Ready!” You said, excited to finally be headed out to see your husband.

“Jake said he’s having a hard time getting Rooster to go to the bar. He asked him after work and he said he was just going to go home.” Phoenix said. “I can drop you off at the Hard Deck then go to the house and drag his ass out. He’ll listen to me.”

“Hold on.” You said, “He’s probably waiting for me to FaceTime him and doesn't want to miss that call… SHIT! He’ll recognize your apartment…. Ok…. no problem.. I’ve got this.”

You brought your husband’s name up on your phone, hitting the call button.

“Baby you said FaceTime.” Bradley complained, answering the phone on the second ring. “Where’s your beautiful face?”

“I know, Sweetie,” You replied, sighing, “I promise I’ll FaceTime you later tonight. I messed up the time difference and I got a call from another school to interview with. I just really want to find a job out there so I can get to you. How about you go get a birthday drink with Nix and then by the time you get home I’ll be free and we can FaceTime.”

“It’s OK, Dove.” He said, “Good luck in the interview, Baby. They’ll all want you and you’ll have your pick of jobs. I just miss you so damn much. I want to be able to come home to you at night. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You said, your heart breaking at how sad he sounded, even knowing you were about to make him so happy. “I’ll be home there with you before you even know it and you’ll be coming home to me every single night. Promise you’ll go get a drink with your friends? Celebrate your birthday?”

“I promise.” He said, “I’ll talk to you later, Baby. Good Luck.”

“Thank you, Sweetie.” You replied, “I love you so so much.”

“Love you too.” He replied.

After hanging up you had Phoenix text the group chat again to let everyone know that drinks were happening at the Hard Deck in thirty minutes for Bradshaw’s birthday. Then she texted Bradley and let him know she wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer.

PHOENIX: Bradshaw, your ass better be at the Hard Deck in 30 minutes or I’ll be at your house to drag your ass out myself. 😡

ROOSTER: My wife already texted you? Lol 😂 I’m changing out of my flight suit now. Be there in 30.

“Alright, he’s changing now!” Phoenix said, smiling, “Let’s get you to your husband!”

You pulled your suitcase back down to her car, throwing it into the back again to be transferred to your husband’s Bronco once you were at the Hard Deck. Knowing you were going to be seeing him in 30 minutes caused excitement to flood your system. You’d been married for three years, together for five and gone through much longer deployments and separations that the one you’d just been through, but never before had he flown such a dangerous mission where it had been pretty much assumed someone wasn’t coming home.

“Not long now!” Phoenix said, smiling over at you, knowing where your head was going. “An added bonus to this new assignment is the deployments won’t be as often or as long. We will actually be getting to do more instructing of the new classes of Top Gun students in between missions. You won’t have to worry about long separations anymore.”

“I’ve done ok as long as I didn’t let myself think about it too much.” You said, “The minute I let myself think about how close he came to not coming home… I lose it.”

“You’ll feel much better once you see him and have him back in your arms.” She promised, “I know he’ll feel better once he’s got you in his arms too.”

“You’re right.” You said. “Just need him in my arms.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the bar a short time later and you made your way inside.

“Looks like everyone except Rooster is here.” Phoenix said, spotting everyone in their regular corner of the bar when they walked in. “Let’s go grab drinks from the bar and kill time until he gets here. I want him to be the one to introduce you.”

You followed her to the bar, sitting in one of the free seats.

“Hey, Phoenix.” Penny said, coming over, “What can I get for you two?”

“Hey, Penny.” She replied, “I’ll take a beer, Y/N?”

“Just a Ginger Ale or Sprite if you have it?” You asked, smiling. “I’m going to be DD tonight for my husband.”

“One of these aviators belong to you?” Penny asked, grabbing the beer for Phoenix and filling a glass with ice and pouring the amber soda for you.

“He’s not here yet.” You replied, smiling. “But yeah, I have to take claim for an aviator.”

“Penny, do you know if Mav is coming tonight?” Phoenix asked, winking at you. “Figured he might pop in for Rooster’s birthday.”

“I think he said he’s stopping in.” She replied, “I’m so glad those two are finally talking!”

“You and me both!” Phoenix replied, taking a drink of her beer.

“Phoenix, why are you sitting over here keeping your beautiful friend here from joining us?” A smooth voice sounded behind you both. You turned and smirked, knowing exactly who was standing behind you.

“Bagman, you’re not allowed to harass my friend.” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes. “She is definitely not your type.”

“I’m Hangman.” He said, flashing a megawatt smile, complete with dimples. You were sure that smile landed him plenty of ladies. You had to bite back a laugh when you glanced over at Phoenix who was rolling her eyes. “Or Jake, whichever you prefer.”

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Hangman.” You replied, glancing behind him as the door opened and a very familiar mustached aviator walked in wearing one of his million Hawaiian shirts. Thankfully he hadn’t seen you yet so you still had the element of surprise. “Phoenix is right though, you’re not my type. I only give my heart to 6 '1”, brown eyed,curly haired, aviators with mustaches and a penchant for Hawaiian shirts.”

“Oddly specific…” He said, confused, but turning to see where your eyes had landed. You hopped off the seat and moved past him, straight into Bradley’s line of sight.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!” You called, catching his attention. His head shot up, his eyes locking in on you immediately, a shocked smile stretching across his face. “Surprise, Baby! Happy Birthday!”

“Dove!” He exclaimed, finally snapping out of his shock. He closed the distance between you two quickly, meeting him in the middle, and scooped you up into his arms. Your legs wrapped around him so he was holding you koala style, your lips locking against his own in a passionate kiss, neither of you caring that you were standing in the middle of a crowded bar. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so damn much, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re really here!”

“Forgive me for not FaceTiming now?” You asked, laughing “I was at Phoenix’s apartment when I called.”

“You’re a little minx.” He laughed. “I forgive you baby.”

“Bradshaw!” Jake said, “Care you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Give me a minute, Hangman.” Bradley replied, setting you down, but not letting you go. “I haven’t seen my wife in a couple of months. Let me say ‘hello’.”

“WIFE?” Jake exclaimed, “Phoenix, you know about this?”

“Yup.” She smirked, leading Jake away from you and Bradley. “Give them a minute. They’ll join us shortly.”

You were still wrapped in Bradley’s arms and you finally felt like you were home.

“I can’t believe you’re really here, Dove.” He said, resting his forehead against your own. “You look so beautiful, Baby.”

“I’m really here, my love.” You promised, kissing him softly. “It’s so good to see your face and kiss you and to be in your arms. I love you so much. From now on, I will go where you go whenever humanly possible.”

“I love you too, Beautiful.” He replied, “I’m hoping this will be our permanent home base. How close are we to being a one coast family?”

“Actually, how likely is it that you can get leave to help me pack up our Virginia house?” You asked.

“Pretty likely.” He smiled, “Do you have a timeline?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” You said, “I accepted a job out here for the fall, officially resigned at the district in Virginia Beach and cleared out my classroom two days ago.”

“FUCK YES!” He exclaimed, picking you up and swinging you around, “I’ll put in for leave tomorrow. As soon as it’s granted we’ll book a flight back and pack it all up and list the house.”

“Bradshaws!” Jake yelled, “Join the party!”

“We’re being paged.” You laughed, “Come on, Baby. Introduce me to your friends.”

You and Bradley walked over to the corner where everyone had congregated and introductions were made.

“Everyone, this is my wife Y/N.” Bradley said, happy to finally get to introduce you to everyone, “Baby, this is the squad. You’ve met Hangman. That’s Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and you already know Bob.”

“Hey Y/N” Bob said, coming over to hug you, “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Bob!” You replied smiling, hugging him back, “It’s so good to see you too!” Then looking at the rest of the group you smiled and said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you all. Bradley’s told me all about you guys.”

“Wait a damn minute!” Jake said, turning to glare and Bradley, “Phoenix and Bob BOTH knew you had a wife? What the HELL, Rooster? I saved your life and I don’t get to be in the cool kids club knowing you have a WIFE? I thought we were friends, man.”

“Jake…”Bradley said, unsure what to say, “Come on man, it’s not like that…we are friends…”

You look over at Jake who’s doing all that he can to not smile, enjoying the fact that Bradley has no idea what to say.

“Baby, he’s playing you.” You told your husband, winking at Jake. “Jake, stop bullying my husband. It’s his birthday. Play nicely and you come over for home cooked meals.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, smiling, “Sorry, Rooster. Couldn’t resist. Congrats on the beautiful wife. She’s a firecracker. Definitely keep her.”

“I plan on it, Hangman.” Bradley said, shaking his head at the blonde aviator.

The night continues with the group playing pool, swapping stories, drinking and you filling them in on how you and Bradley met and ended up married. Eventually, Phoenix made her way to the Jukebox and pulled the plug, silencing the music, causing your husband to chuckle. There was a mixed reaction from the bar to the music being cut. Some booed, upset that whatever had been playing was cut off mid song, the rest cheered, clearly knowing something was about to happen.

“That’s my cue, Baby.” Bradley said, tapping your leg to signal he needed up. You stood up to let him get off the chair, but before you could sit back down, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him to an upright piano.

“They clearly know your party trick.” You teased, “Come on birthday boy, serenade your fans.” Bradley sat down on the bench, pulling you down next to him. His fingers moved over the keys, playing a random melody before launching into the familiar intro chords to Great Balls of Fire. You knew he could play a million other songs, but this one in particular held the most meaning to him as it was the one his dad had played and sang when he was little before he died.

You could tell Bradley had done this before here because everyone crowded around and were singing along with him while he played. You joined in, belting out the song alongside your husband. KISS ME BABY.. (you leaned in to kiss him quickly) OOOOO THAT FEELS GOOD, HOLD ME BABY….. WELL, I’LL STILL HOLD YOU LIKE A LOVER SHOULD….. YOU’RE FINE…. SO KIND… I GOT TO TELL THIS WORLD THAT YOU’RE MINE MINE MINE MINE!

When the song finished the bar erupted into loud cheers and chants yelling “ROOSTER”. You loved seeing your husband in his element like this. You quickly took advantage of being in front of the piano and scooted your husbands fingers off the keys, replacing them with your own and started to play Happy Birthday. You were happy when everyone around you immediately joined in and soon the entire bar was signing to your husband.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy BIRTHDAY dear ROOSTER, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

“Make a wish, Baby”! You said, turning towards him.

“All my wishes have come true.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you.

“Hey Rooster,” Phoenix said, gently, not wanting to interrupt the moment. “Mav’s at the bar.”

“Ready to meet my Godfather?” He asked you.

“Definitely ready.” You replied. “Then I’ve got the rest of your birthday present.”

“Baby!” He exclaimed, “You’re here, you’re MOVING here, YOU are my present.”

“Ok, well, there’s more.” You shrugged laughing. “Introduce me to Mav.”

Bradley took your hand and led you to the bar where Mav was sitting sipping a beer. He looked up as you both approached and smiled, standing up.

“Happy Birthday, Kid.” Mav said, hugging Bradley tightly.

“Thanks, Mav.” He replied, hugging him back. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

You stepped closer, smiling softly. You were nervous to meet the man that meant so much to Bradley and who had been like a father to him growing up before everything had exploded. You wanted to help your husband to build that relationship back up, knowing how important it was to have family. Your own parents adored Bradley and had immediately welcomed him into the family when you’d brought him home the first time.

“This is my wife, Y/N.” He said, his arm around your waist, “Baby, this Mav. He helped my mom raise me after my dad died.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Mav said, his voice thick with emotion.

“It’s great to finally meet you too.” You replied, smiling, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“For the record, Y/N’s been trying to get me to reach out for a couple of years now.” Bradley admitted. “I’m just bullheaded.”

“At least he admits it.” You laughed. “We’d love to have you over for dinner though, Mav. I’d really love to get to know you.”

“I would love that, Y/N.” He replied, “I’d love to get to know the one making my Godson so happy.”

“He’s easy to love.” You said, looking over your shoulder at your husband. “He makes me pretty damn happy too.”

“I think I’m going to steal my wife now and take her home.” Bradley said, “She just flew in today and is still on East Coast time.”

“Sounds good.” Mav said, “Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He replied, smiling, “See you tomorrow.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the squad, you were finally able to escape out to the Bronco. Phoenix had already transferred your suitcase while you were inside.

“Do you need me to drive?” You asked, you hadn’t kept track of your husband’s drinks tonight.

“Nope. I’m good.” He said, smiling, opening the passenger door for you,“Only had 2 beers earlier, nothing since. Hop in, Dove.”

You leaned back in the seat, enjoying the air coming in from the open windows as Bradley drove you both home. He had found an apartment not far from base that did short term leases when he’d come back to San Diego for the mission. Now that you knew it would be permanent the two of you could start to look for a house together. You made a mental note to start looking at listings tomorrow while he was at work.

The apartment wasn’t too far from The Hard Deck either, so before long, Bradley was pulling the Bronco into the parking space and shutting it off. He came around to open your door for you before pulling your suitcase from the back of the Bronco.

“Ready to see our temporary home in person?” He asked

“More than ready.” You said, “Especially the bed… I really wanna see the bed.”

“I can’t wait to get you into bed either, Baby.” He smirked, “Birthday sex is the best.”

“Lead the way, Stud.” You winked, “I still have another birthday surprise for you.”

“Is it under your dress?” He asked, taking your hand and leading you to the front door, unlocking it and ushering you inside.

“It is…” You replied, “But I need something from my suitcase first.” You unzipped the suitcase and pulled out the small gift bag inside before handing it to Bradley. “Happy Birthday, Baby.”

He smiled, reaching to take the bag, leaning down to kiss you as he did, “Thank you, Dove.”

He opened the bag, taking out the tissue paper, and pulling out two onesies. Holding them up, you could see the moment it registered in his head what he was looking at. His eyes filled with tears as he read each one.

“Future Aviator, just like my Daddy,” He read, before holding up the other one to read, “Daddy’s Wingman”

He looked up at you, “Baby, you’re….we’re…really?” He was too choked up to get the words out. You smiled, tears of your own spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“Yes” You whispered, unable to get your own voice to work. He carefully set the onesies in the bag and pulled you into his arms, your own going around his neck. His lips connected with yours in a deep kiss, desperate to convey all of his love and feelings to you in that moment.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispered, when you’d both pulled back to breathe. “How far along?”

“I just hit 11 weeks.” You said, then reached for your purse to pull out the sonogram photo you had safely tucked inside, “And actually… let’s go sit on the couch and I’ll show you the sonogram…”

He took your hand leading you to the couch, sitting down with you tucked into his side. You handed him the envelope with the copies of the sonogram from the doctor. He carefully opened it up, pulling them out to look.

“Dove…” He said, shock once again covering his face “Are you serious right now?”

“Surprise!” You chuckled, “Turns out you're top 1% in more than just flying, Baby.”

“We’re having twins.” He smiled, looking at the sonogram, “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

“You’re gonna be the best daddy.” You confirmed, “Happy Birthday, Bradley.”

“This has been the best birthday ever, Dove.” He replied, leaning over to kiss you. “Thank you for making all of my wishes come true.”

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #Miles Teller

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ihavethedreamies · 1 month

Text

Pool Boy (1) | Yeonjun

Choi Yeonjun - TXT

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.2k OuO

Pairing: Yeonjun x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (Pretty Girl, Noona, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Fingering, Semi-Public Sex (at work but no one else is there), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Summary: Getting it on after hours with the hot lifeguard who works at the same pool as you. This is just for context, it literally has no effect on the story itself.

Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still three-thousands words of just fucking so…

None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.

-> Taehyun <-

-> Soobin <-

-> Hueningkai <-

-> Beomgyu <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Everyone had left, leaving just you and Yeonjun. You were finishing up last minute stuff in the office, not sure where he was, but his bag was still inside, so he definitely hadn’t left. As you were pinning up a sheet on the corkboard by the door that was the schedule for the next week, you felt a presence behind you. It was warm and you didn’t even flinch when you felt hands on your hips. Yeonjun wrapped his arms around you, hand holding his other wrist, so they rested right near your belly button. His cheek rested on your head, his mouth right by your ear.

"Looks like we're alone." His breath was hot on your ear, and you pressed back into him, your own hands coming to rest on his in front of you. You shifted and he let you go just enough that you could turn toward him, then his arms tightened again. He pressed so close to you you could feel the slight ridges of his stomach through both of your thin shirts. Your head had to tip back pretty far to look up at him at this distance. His hands unlinked and surrounded your waist, his big hands easily covering a wide swath of your middle. Your own hands went to his upper chest near his shoulders, and slowly slid up to his jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, lips so close to yours they brushed over each other with his words.

"I’ll be mad if you don’t-" He was on you. Yeonjun’s lips were as soft as they looked and you groaned, tilting your head to instantly deepen the kiss. One of your hands ran up the nape of his neck into his hair, the other gripping his shirt over the right side of his chest. His own hands left your waist and descended lower till they rested over your ass, and he put his hands into your pockets. Somehow, he pulled you closer and you moaned softly at feeling him completely surround you. He stepped forward and your back hit the wall, the corkboard preventing you from bumping your head on the painted brick. Reluctantly, you both pulled away for a breath, lips still hovering close.

"This okay, (Y/N)?" When his voice, raspy with desire, spoke your name you shuddered. How could someone this beautiful really want you? Just a normal human, not someone who looked like they belonged in a museum as an art piece.

"I would let you do whatever to me." You admitted and he groaned, his brow furrowing and his lips sealed to yours again. The force of the kiss made you groan, and he took the chance to slip his tongue in your mouth. Your head swam and you had never been so turned on just from kissing a guy before. His hands were all over you and you sighed when his fingers crept under your shirt and up your back. When you had to pull away again for air, a ribbon of saliva hung between your lips, and you licked to break the connection.

"Whatever huh?"

"Within reason." You were both slightly out of breath still, your exhales mixing between you.

"What do you want to do?" you asked, your lips still so close they brushed as you spoke. One hand left your back, and he cupped your jaw gently, his thumb rubbing over your throat.

"I want you to swallow my cock." His voice was quiet, worried he was being too forward. You groaned a bit, and he at first thought you were unwilling. However, the fact that you instantly sank to your knees, he saw you were more than willing.

"Fuck (Y/N)." He gasped when your much smaller hands went to the waist band of his swim trunks, and you pulled the garment off and away. His cock sprang free, and he sighed in relief. Big and pretty, just like him. Before he could say anything else, your mouth sealed around the head, your tongue swirling around before taking him deeper.

"Shit~" His moans were pretty too, everything about him was so pretty. When the tip of his dick hit the back of your mouth, your eyes flitted up to meet his. Yeonjun swore once again, resting his arm on the wall and then his forehead on his arm. Seeing you like that made his cock twitch and a bead of pre hit your tongue. What he wasn't expecting you to do next was start inching him even deeper into your throat. He whined and you moaned back, swallowing around him over and over to keep from gagging too bad. He said he wanted you to swallow his cock, so you did, burying him in your throat, your nose hitting the skin of his groin. His eyes clenched shut, teeth chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to move. When you noticed his hips twitch slightly, you smiled as best you could with your mouth full of Yeonjun's dick, and pulled back till you could circle your tongue over the head again.

"Wanna move?" You offered and his eyes flew open to gape at you. When he saw your determined face and not a hint of reluctance in your tone of voice, he moaned. You even sounded excited.

"You sure?" And when you nodded, his other hand stroked over your hair, lightly gripping it to hold you where he wanted. It seemed you had some experience with that kind of thing, because you shifted your kneeling position so you could brace against the floor better. The head of his cock brushed past your lips again and he let out a long whine as you let him get as deep as possible. When he asked for you to swallow his cock, he didn't realize you were going to let him fuck your face. Just the thought alone was getting him close, let alone the perfect wet, hot vacuum your mouth created.

"Fuck-" He groaned, careful to watch when you would suck air in through your nose, making sure he didn't cut your air off too much and too long. Your panties were stuck to your folds already and you grinded against the thick seam of your jeans. Splats of saliva and precum dripped onto the floor as Yeonjun struggled to not ruin your throat, but his hips were hard to control the longer he went.

"Gonna…cum-" He gasped and your hands flew to his butt, holding him in place and he came down your throat. The whine he let out as his head tilted back in relief was literally orgasmic. Breathing hard as you pulled off, you cleaned his still slightly hard cock off and sat back, grinning up at him.

"I…I wasn’t really prepared…" He drifted off and you nodded in acknowledgement.

"I’m on the pill, don’t worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Yeonjun if you don’t get inside me soon, I might start begging. I'm already on the floor." You blinked at him.

"I would like to see that, but a different day. Come up, pretty girl." He helped you stand and turned you around, so you faced the wall again. He pressed another kiss to your cheek as his front pressed to your back, his lips meeting your neck as he placed kisses there, his fingers ghosting over your ribs. You could feel his cock hardening again in the cleft of your ass and you knew he would fill you in the best way. As his tongue ghosted over the ridge of your ear, he wrapped his arms around you entirely again, his right hand cupping your covered breast, the other resting on your stomach above the waistband of your shorts.

"That door locked?"

"They all are." You exhaled, his hand slipping under your bra and tweaking at your nipple. His other hand deftly undid your button and slid his hand into your shorts. You gasped as he rubbed over your cunt through your underwear, the fabric already soaked.

"How long have you been like this, hm?" His voice in your ear made your thoughts fuzzy.

"Fuck, since I first saw you." You admitted and he groaned, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"(Y/N), don’t say things like that…" He whined and you chuckled a bit, but you nearly choked on your own air when his hand buried in under your panties, a long finger pressing against your entrance. You exhaled at the sensation, and you groaned when his finger filled you up, deeper than you could ever get yourself.

"Your so wet, noona. Tight." His hips jumped a bit, grinding his cock into your covered back side. You whined when he added another finger, his palm grinding over your clit. He needed to get you more prepared to take his cock. As his fingers scissored inside of you, you reached your own hand back and palmed his dick to full hardness and Yeonjun grunted at the feeling.

"Get inside me, now, please." He complied and you pouted at the loss of his arms around you, his hot skin pressed to yours. He maneuvered behind you; you could hear him take his shirt off as you did yourself. Before you could, he unhooked your bra and he cupped your breasts with his hands, his bare chest against your back. Pressing against you, he stepped forward till the cold wall hit your front, his hands shoving your shorts off. Feeling him bare behind you was thrilling, and while you really wanted to turn and look at him, ogle him, you needed him inside fast. The soft sound of your shorts falling to the floor hit your ears and you whined when the head of his cock rubbed through your folds.

"Oh, god," you gasped as he started to press in. He groaned as your wet, raw heat surrounded him. Yeonjun’s dick stretched your walls with a delightful burn and your nails scratched against the wall futilely, you had to rise onto your tip toes.

"Oh, so good." He groaned once he was inside you all the way. It felt like he was in your throat, he fit inside so deep.

"Fuck, Yeonjun!" You exhaled harshly trying not to clench around him too much, but he felt so good, and he hadn’t even moved yet. Honestly, even if he just stayed like that you would probably eventually cum from him filling you alone. His arms looped around you again, but his hold was more possessive than before. One arm wedged between your breasts, his hand holding the base of your throat. Gently, though, just to secure you. You wouldn’t even mind if his grip tightened a bit…The other arm lay lower, his right hand resting on your left hip, and you braced yourself against the wall with your hands.

"Move, please." You mewled and he took a slow first thrust, the office so quiet that you heard a drop of your wet hit the floor underneath you. Hopefully, you remembered to clean that up later.

"C-can I? I don’t think I can go slow." His nose rested behind your ear, nuzzling it.

"Then don’t. Just fuck me, Yeonjun." You breathed the words out, before his next thrust took it away. Your eyes rolled back as he snapped his hips hard, the thrust was shallow but hard. You threw your head back, it rested on his shoulder as he began to rail you into the wall. Starting to lose strength in your legs, they began to shake, your calves burning from holding yourself to be the right height in that position. He must have noticed because he let you go so you could readjust. You ended up bent at the waist, making a ninety-degree angle. Your hands still held you up against the wall and his hands instead went to your hips. He had to thrust down some, changing the angle at which his cock battered the back walls of your cunt. The head of his dick rubbed over your sweet spot over and over and his thrusts got harder, faster. You wanted to scream from the feeling of him nearly leaving you empty before filling you entirely with a quick snap of his hips. Your head was bowed, your arms above your head, nails digging into the painted brick, chipping it off in some places. Sweat dripped from your forehead, hitting the floor along with the drops from your slick cunt. Yeonjun’s thrusts got sloppier, hard but shallow, his own hands resting on the wall about yours.

"I’m going to cum noona." He grunted and you were close yourself.

"S-s-same-" You managed to get out.

"Ah, fuck!" He was letting out little whines along with you. With one more hard thrust, he set off your orgasm, your walls clenching his cock so hard he fell over as well. You mewled as he pumped you full, your stomach felt hot, but you wanted more. If he didn’t keep going you would have to go home and dig your vibrator out to charge it.

"Shit, sorry!" He apologized, pulling out. You nearly collapsed, your legs like jelly, and he wrapped an arm around you to catch you, then helped you stand straighter. More drops hit the concrete floor, most likely your combined release falling from your still pulsing cunt. Glancing over to him at your side you finally saw him fully. God, he was absolutely divine…and still half hard.

"I can keep going, but I cannot keep standing." You panted, resting your forearm on the wall, then your forehead on your arm.

"Are you sure?" He leaned in and nibbled over your ear as he whispered into it.

"Fuck, yes, please." You nearly keened and he huffed, before wrapping his other arm under your legs and picking you up. You squeaked as he turned around to lay you on the table. The cold plastic was not the most comfortable perch, but you knew that it would be easier to clean than the couch in the break room. Finally, you could fully see him, your eyes drawn to his cock that was quickly getting fully hard. Honestly, you were glad he kept his shirt on lifeguarding because you would have jumped him otherwise. He was so gorgeous, his body proportions absolutely perfect along with his face.

"You need a break or are you ready?" His hands cupped your thighs, pulling them up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

"I’m ready, hurry up!" You insisted and he laughed, his cock meeting your pussy again. Unlike before where he eased into you, he fucked into you hard immediately and your shoulders twitched, back arching.

"Yeonjun~" You felt your mind going numb, the pleasure tingling through your body. He smirked at your decreasing sanity, proud that he was the one doing it to you. You yelped when he pulled you closer to him, farther down the table. He leaned over you, his hands meeting yours over your head, holding them in his. Yeonjun’s lips found yours again and he swallowed every little moan you made. Whining again as his lips left yours, you wanted to complain, but he laid kisses from your cheek to your jaw, then your neck. He wanted to leave a mark or three but with the heat and working, you wouldn’t be able to hide them. Another time. He slowed his thrusts suddenly and you were going to protest, but his hands looped over your thighs again and he forced a squeal out of you when he folded your legs up, your ankles by his ears. He smirked and you were glad for your flexibility, and his hips began to pummel yours, the table shaking under you. When his eyes left your cunt, swallowing his fat cock, and went to your face he chuckled. You were gone, cock drunk and drooling. He had no idea you would get that far gone, not with your confident and bold personality. You were going to drive him crazy.

"Feel good, pretty girl?" Yeonjun stood back up straight, your legs coming off his shoulders so he could notch your knees over his elbows. Each roll of his hips allowed his pelvis to hit your clit, and he would grind hard into you as deep as he could each time. Your moans got louder, your walls pulsing and clenching again; he could tell you were nearly there.

"Yesss~"

"My cock really that good?"

"Oh, fuck, yes!"

"Couldn’t wait for me to fuck you, huh noona?" His words went straight to your head and cunt, but you weren’t able to say much back but ‘yes’ and nonsense babbling.

"I should always take second shift, wait till everyone else leaves, then fuck you on every surface in here~" He sighed with a slight moan as your pussy fluttered around his cock.

"You would like that, huh noona?"

"Fuck, yes!" You mewled and his thumb met your clit and with one stroke you fell apart again.

"Ah, ‘Jun~!" You clenched him tight, and he felt your cunt overflow and drip from your release. He wanted to hold back, but you felt so good, he was a goner when your legs wrapped tighter around him, not letting go.

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum again." Yeonjun groaned, pumping his hips hard two more times and spilling inside of you again. He fell forward, catching himself on his hands by your head. As your highs came down you pondered how you were going to get home with your shaky and numb legs.

"I’ll," he chuckled, "I’ll help you clean up." He pulled out of you, and you keened at the loss.

"Stay there a sec." He went and got some paper towels and cleaned himself before putting his shorts back on. You closed your eyes, breathing hard and you flinched when he brought a damp towel to your core.

"I make a mess?" You laughed, nearly sounding drunk.

"Pfft, no I did." Yeonjun chuckled and when he decided you were properly cleaned up, he helped you sit up on the table. You wobbled a bit sleepily and he brought you your discarded clothing.

"You’re so sweet." You cooed which made him smile, then he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"We also made a mess on the floor and over there…" He grimaced jokingly and you laughed yourself. Despite your shaky muscles, you were able to get dressed and help him clean. You disinfected just in case since it was a public area. It was nearly eleven by the time you were ready to lock up and leave and he stood beside you as you locked the gate.

"(Y/N)?" His voice was soft, and you turned to look at him.

"I just…I understand if you don’t want like…" He licked his lips, nervous, "I won’t just stop talking to you now that you let me- I mean-" He was stammering, his face red and you thought it incredibly endearing. He had literally just rearranged your insides and was now bashfully rambling. Stepping closer, you grabbed his hands where it was fiddling with his bag strap.

"Yeonjun, you are so sweet. If you want to just stay friends?"

"No! I mean…I want more but if you don't don't push yourself." He cleared his throat, looking intensely at your linked hands.

"I'm not pushing myself." You smiled up at him and his nerves flew away, his lips pulling into a smile himself.

"Thank God."

-> Taehyun <-

-> Soobin <-

-> Hueningkai <-

-> Beomgyu <-

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt #txt fanfic #txt x reader #txt smut #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun smut

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that-one-anxious-mango · 13 days

Note

Hi love! I hope you are feeling/doing better! I was just thinking about the Days of Our Love series. Any chance we might get an update soon? I miss it!

Oh, New York. How I Love You. (1)

Summary: Austin's best girl comes to visit him in New York to cherish the time they have together before he leaves to Australia, in what becomes a very eventful two weeks together.

Word count: 8.2k

Warning: LONG POST!

Contents: Lots of fluff. Mentions of childhood trauma. Sexual Content (Oral: Fem receiving, hand job: Male Receiving), emotional situations.

A/N: Hello beautiful humans, it has been a minute. Don't drag me please. I just always take so long because I want to always put out the best content. Would you believe me if I said this went through TWO edits. Geez! But all in all, I hope you enjoy.

PS: Everyone feel free to comment, send more letter, and reblog! Much Love *hugs* Tags: @purejasmine, @wacoshuffle , @flyestvenustrap , @louisejoy86 , @unicoreads, @incorectly

______

“ Are you seriously going to take all of that to New York with you? Why don’t you just take one suitcase and then buy some outfits to wear there, ya’ know. “ Phoebe chirped from her spot laid out across your bed while flipping through a HG magazine.

“ I agree. Buy some cute outfits and surprise him that way. Then you’ll have room to bring back the clothes you buy for you and us.” Alex continued to play a riveting game of tug of war with Magnus on the floor.

Her last comment made a laugh erupt from you in the closet, “ Yeah nice try, buddy. I’m not bringing you heifers anything back but some damn keychains and the lasting scent of the smug and smoggy New York air on me the next time we see each other.” You yelled back. “ And plus it’s gonna be cold outside.”

Phoebe laughed while Alex scoffed, “ UM! Excuse me ma’am, but as a friend, need I remind your ass that this was a part of the deal. Since you’re abandoning me, The Travel Buddy, to go FORNICATE with Mr. Goldilocks in New York instead of HOME with me for the Winter Wonderland Festival. You promised to bring me back something nice to add to my outfit for the Warner Bros. charity event next month.” She recalled the promise that you did in-fact make to cease her tantrum at the time.

“ And on top of that, I’m also the one silk pressing your hair for this trip, ma’am. AND taking care of my fur nephew that you’re abandoning as well. Therefore, I DESERVE SOMETHING.” She added.

“ This is true.” Phoebe co-signed, continuing to flip through the pages.

You cut your eyes at her when you entered the room again to walk a pair of shoes over to your bursting suitcase.

“ Yeah. Yeah. I’ll make sure to bring you back something for your pain and suffering. Brat.” You muttered the last part. “ AND fyi his hair is black now.”

Alex grinned while blowing you an air kiss that you grab and pretend to smush in your hands.

“ You know you LUHHHHH me, girl.” She teased. “ Now hurry up because I don’t have all night to do this. I don’t know why you didn’t just get braids or some passion twists put in like a normal person going on a trip .”

“ What’s love got to do with it?” You sassed. In return you were met with a pillow to the side and giggles around the room. “ And don’t rush me! I’m almost done.”

“ What time is Austin supposed to be coming to get you from the airport? Phoebe questioned.

“ Noon.” You answered fighting to try and fit a scarf into your luggage. “ My flight leaves at noon and I should be there by evening. I’m not exactly sure when, I just know their three hours ahead.

“ Okay. Cool, just make sure you let us know when you’re in the car and everything. “ Phoebe noted.

You scoff, “Like yall asses won’t be watching me on 360 anyway. Stalkers.”

“ Hey! You should be happy that somebody cares enough to stalk your ass. People go missing everyone, B.” Alex mocked the line from Paid in Full.

“ Yeah. I know. I do the same thing with ya’ll.” You huffed, “ Okay. I think that’s it.”

“ Good! “ Alex jumped up, “ Now go and grab my hair bag. So we can start on this head, honey. All this dang hair.” She looked at the long blow dried mess on your head.

“ I know damn well that is not a damn hot comb.” You deadpanned.

“ Do you want the hair straight or not? We have heat protectant, so relax. Whenever we both get back I’ll come over and we can do a treatment to make sure your curls revert back right. I got this. Now tilt your head down..”

Phoebe giggled watching the two of you fuss at one another, “ Yeah you better sleep pretty tonight, babes. Head on hands, silk scarf, and turn a fan on so you don’t sweat.”

“ I'm aware.” You sighed, settling into the chair and began to listen to Phoebe as she started her descent into her plans while you would be away.

“ OW! ” You jumped at the sudden sharp burning feeling on your scalp, “ Alex really.”

“ I barely touched you! It’s the steam.” She giggled at the scrunch on your face, “ Hehe. My bad.”

______

The Next Day…

After a couple goodbyes to your fur baby and helping your driver wrestle your large suitcase into the back of the car Austin had sent for you against your wishes, you found yourself tiredly weaving about through LAX.

You’d already pre-checked everything, so once you went through security and went to make sure your gate existed, you’d found a very overpriced coffee place and ordered a little danish and iced chai to settle the nerves.

It wasn’t until you were in a seat by the terminal happily scrolling away on your phone that you got a text message from Austin.

Sweet Baboo: can’t wait to see you. enjoy your flight. love you. :3

Once you boarded, the flight had been fine and you’d done exactly what was predicted of you.

You’d read for a good couple of hours and then slept a good chunk of the rest of it. The flight was smooth with no delays.

When the pilot announced your descent, anticipation began to build up in your chest

Quickly you pulled out the mini mirror from your carry on bag and went to fix your minimal makeup and undid the head scarf on your head to reveal the flowy silk press that fell down your shoulders. You combed it out and fixed your little cute airport outfit in preparation to get off.

Seeing as you were in first class, against your wishes also, you were one of the first to exit the plane. You made it to baggage claim where a nice older gentleman with a sign had begun setting your luggage up for you on a cart and offered to push it down to the terminal.

“ For Miss Y/L/N.” He’d smiled.

“ Yes, I’m her.” You nodded.

“ Wonderful I’ll be helping you with your luggage. Compliments of a Mr. Sweet Baboo.” He told you with a grin on his face.

You stifled a part of your laugh as the two of you began walking through the airport, “ Did he really ask you to say that? “

He nodded, “ Yes, He did. But I don’t mind. One of the more milder things I’ve been asked to say in my time doing this job.”

“ I can only imagine.” You laughed.

“ Quite cold outside. But you look bundled up.” The man smiled.

“ Oh yeah. It’s the Sahara in here. I think the breeze will actually help cool me down.”

The sharp chill of the evening wind swiped at the little exposed patches of your face as you made it to the extremely congested pick up and drop off area. It felt near impossible to try and find which car belonged to your boyfriend in the sea of what felt like a thousand black SUVs littering the street.

It wasn’t until you spotted a familiar head of slicked back raven hair stuck out one window that you recognized your boyfriend as he made his way out the car.

A squeal unintentionally left you and Austin smiled a mile wide as he opened his arms up to you, “ There’s my girl.” He laughed, catching your body that was flung into him. “ Hey there. Mr. Sweet Baboo.” You giggled into his neck, placing a kiss there.

He’d taken his time unlatching you from him until he offered to quickly help the man load the trunk since he’d spotted what he believed to be the shine of a camera in the distance.

You didn’t have time to breathe once you both were inside and the door shut. The partition was already rolled up and once the car started to move, and so did Austin’s lips against yours. Your body had suddenly felt like it was on fire with a flame that only he could put out.

Your hands were attached to his face while his own were free to roam the parts of your body he’d missed in his absence.

A small moan escaped you at the sensation of his hand kneading your thigh under his touch and pulling you further into him to the point of being in his lap now.

“ Fuck, I missed you, Baby.” He groaned.

“ Not as much as I missed you.” You mumbled in-between kisses, hands feverishly grabbing at anything on his body that would keep him tethered to you.

He smiled into your lips, “ Is that a challenge? Because believe me, before this car even hits the main streets I can prove that I missed you most.” He whispers, hand sliding to rest just under your abdomen. Your breath hitches and the most indecent thoughts begin to pool around in your brain.

You giggled feeling his fingers sliding up your cardigan, “ Okay..okay..okay. I believe you.”

“ I can’t wait to get you home, all to myself.” His words came out muffled, but had all the same effect as you found yourself pacing your breath and clenching your legs together.

“ You look cold, sweetheart. Let me warm you up.”

The ride had been agonizingly long with Austin teasing you every chance you got.

When the two of you arrived at Austin’s brownstone, your eyes couldn’t register just how beautiful it looked from the outside. Almost like something you’d see in movies like Autumn in New York or Maid in Manhattan.

“ Aus it’s beautiful.” You mumbled out taking in the glistening snow that littered the cement steps beyond the black steel gate.

“ Thank you. Can’t wait to get you inside of it.” He smiled, pecking your lips before getting out.

To your protests, he’d gotten all of your bags himself and took them inside as you huffed and whined, “ I wanna help! It’s my stuff. Aus! It’s too cold for you to be out here doing this by yourself.”

“ Nope. Just get your cute ass in the house. ” You rolled your eyes at his smug grin.

The minute you stepped inside the foyer of the home Austin had literally swept you off your feet, dipping his face into your neck to administer kisses.

You laugh and thrash in his arms the entire way to his gorgeous couch, ridding yourselves of your coats.

“ So, first, “ He plopped down next to you, instantly reaching his arms out to pull your body into his lap. “ Are you hungry? I know you didn’t eat on the plane. And before we do anything else I wanna get you fed if need be.”

“ No, not really. “ You leaned back against him, “ I think I’m just hyped up on the adrenaline of getting to see you.”

“ Yeah me too.” A finger traced along your neck just where your hair fell past, , “ Damn. Look at your hair. I knew it was long, but I’ve never seen it like this. It’s beautiful.”

“ Thanks. I wanted something a little more manageable since our itinerary is a bit packed. It’s not big and unruly like usual.” You played with your ends.

“ Stop it.” He scolded, “ Big? Yes. Unruly? No. I love your hair in its natural state babe. It’s cute. I love watching you take care of it. It reminds me to stay up on my shit.”��

“ Yeah, no 2 in 1 conditioner for you buddy.” You reached to pick at one of his dark locks close to his ear. It was still taking some getting used to.

“ Hey.” He turned to nip at your hand, “ There wasn’t any 2 in 1 shampoo before you and there damn sure won’t be any now that I’ve been exposed to the good life.”

And a good life it was! You’d exposed Austin to all the skin care, shea butter, oil pulling, essential oils and everything else needed and now mysteriously you had products coming up empty all the time.

“ I know babe I’m just teasing. Excited for this weekend with you.”

“ So am I. Gonna’ feel good spending time with my girl. Kinda miss my little buddy though. “

“ I know me too.” You pout, “ But I promise you he’s living his best life with his Aunt Alex. He’s already had a pup cup, two treats, and last I knew was taking a nap in her office on a pile of heated blankets.”

“ You’re going home to a diva, baby.” He smirked, imagining the little dog buried in blankets fast asleep. “ So, back to this itinerary that was mentioned.”

“ Yes! It goes by day to optimize experiences and time.“ You pronounced proudly, bouncing on the couch.

“ Really? “

“ Truly. I wanna make the most of our time together.” You replied.

“ Okay, do tell. “ His eyebrows raised in amusement, “ What’s on today? “

“ Today’s agenda is light because it’s the first day and I already knew I’d be tired. So the only two major things on the list are having dinner with my Sweet Baboo and unpacking.”

“ Nice! And we can make all that happen. Let’s take a look at the other days.”

And you did, together you examined the well planned and thought out itinerary in front of you.

He nodded , “ Looks good. We may have to make a couple of adjustments if that’s okay with you. I have some surprises in store.”

“ Ouuu! What?! Tell me.” You practically bounced in his lap.

He smiled, “ If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it.”

“ Not even a hint.” You whine, slightly puckering your lips, and playfully batting your mascaraed eyelashes.

“ No. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. But you’re cute though, baby.” He pecked your lips.

You groan, “ Fine! On second thought I am hungry. Feed me seymour.” You goofed trying to imitate the rich voice of Levi Stubbs.

The lines of his lips curl, “ C’’mon then Audrey II. You can keep me company while I start dinner.”

And you did just that perched on a chair at the island while the two of you made small talk.

“ That can’t be all.” He softly laughed, “ I haven’t seen you and I wanna really know how my girl is doing? Tell me. I know there's something.”

“ I mean there really isn’t much to tell, baby. I told you. It’s just been work..writing…Magnus..and missing you.”

“ How about that lease? “ Austin said, rolling out the dough in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed, “ What about it?”

“ You talk to your building manager about whether you're renewing or not this spring, yet? ” He inquired about your plans for your apartment, which was really his not so subtle way of asking if you’d thought anymore about his offer to move in with him after Elvis was estimated to wrap this summer.

Although you and Austin had been together for almost six months at this point, you weren’t exactly sure if you were completely ready for that kind of commitment yet. Granted when the projected time of wrapping would come around the two of you would be coming up on a year, you still had some things holding you back about the whole ordeal.

“ It’s on the to - do - list…” You stretched, “One of the many adult things to eventually be handled.”

“ Uh huh. I see. “ He mused,” Well like I said before. I wouldn’t mind coming home to you and Magnus every night. And when I’m home you're either always at my place or vice versa. In my eyes it would just make sense.” Austin explained.

Your hands fidget with the brown place mat in front of you, “ I hear you and I understand, babe. And I promise I’m really taking all of this into heavy consideration. “ You settled.

“ Good, I can live with that. Now get up, come over here and help me by cutting the sheath on these asparagus.” Austin instructed, while heating up his rosemary and pepper butter mix in his skillet.

Your eyes widened at the opportunity to help, while you could cook you were unashamed to say that you had hard limitations of what you could and couldn’t make. Whereas Austin on the other-hand was practically a chef with the way he could make his assortment of dishes. Which in turn made him the primary cook of the relationship while you were always happy to be captain of the clean up crew.

“ Oh yay. I get to help.” You hopped up, “ And you're going to let me use a knife! Sick! “

Now becoming skeptical, Austin cocked his head rethinking his offer of a sous chef position, “ On second thought maybe you should stick to being my honorary taste tester. Quite good at that job, peaches.”

“ Nope. I’m helping. “ You rolled up your sleeves, “ Now prepare to see some clean beautifully mutilated asparagus, babe. “

“ Jesus.” Austin groaned, placing the steaks in the sizzling pan.

______

Your dinner of sirloin, seared asparagus, garlic and herb mash potatoes, and bread you couldn’t pronounce right was absolutely splendid.

And now being presented in-front of you was just the dessert to top the night off: A thick and nice slice of strawberry drizzled NY cheesecake.

Favorite of yours.

As you began to indulge in your sweet treat you teased yourself by wondering if there was any way the night could possibly get better.

Then it hit you…you could knock one of your tomorrow's itenary items off tonight without any worry.

So, yes. It definitely could.

“ You know what would be really good, right now.” You mused aloud at the island.

Still turned Austin asked, “ And what would that be, sweetheart? “ He continued loading the dishwasher.

“ A nice hot relaxing bath. “

“ Uh huh.“ He sounded

Grabbing the towel off the stove handle, Austin walked over to the island to lean in.

“ Okay. “ He simply said, “ Your wish is my command.”

“ Really? “ You nervously scraped your fork against your plate.

“ Of course. This trip is all about you. So, if the best girl wants to end the evening with a bath. Then it’s my job to make it happen.” He washed his hands.

“ Just stay here and finish your dessert. And then come up. Alright? “ He instructed, coming around to stand in front of you, taking your face into his face.

“ Okay. “ You nodded.

He returned the gesture and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead on his way out before heading upstairs.

You could hear the faint sounds of water running as you struggled to calm your weirdly nervous stomach and finish your dessert.

By the time you made it up stairs and into the bathroom the lights were dimmed and the aroma of jasmine bath salts and vanilla bubble bath filled your senses.

You weren’t spooked when you felt him appear behind you.

“ Let me take this off of you.” His fingers danced along the curves of your side as his hands moved along to lift your shirt over your head.

You sucked in tiny breaths the rest of the time he took to undress you. Ever so often you’d catch his eyes and smile, turning away to blush.

Once you were as naked as the day you were born, he gently helped you step into the creme claw foot tub.

“ You wanna get in? “ You sheepishly grinned. “ Plenty of room.” Kicking up your feet over the side to expose the suds and bubbles that dripped down your legs.

Knowing that he’d already restrained himself while helping you undress, Austin wasn’t too sure he’d be able to handle any accidental slips of the hand or touching by any means without immediately yanking you out the bath and into the bedroom for some extremely intentional touching of his own to you.

“ No, I’m okay. This is about you. So, enjoy your bath, babe.” He smiled leaning over to grab at the loofa.

, “ Stop it. You’re fine.” Austin playfully scolded, watching the pout spread on your face.

“ If you want we can both sit on opposite sides. “ You offered just as a lightbulb went off in your brain, “ OH! Or you could lay with your back against my chest and my arms around you like Vivan and Edward in Pretty Woman. I’ve actually always wanted to do that.” You confessed your little fantasy.

“ Plus. You did say this weekend was about me.” You moved to place your hands on the tub and rest your head on them, “ And what I want right now is for you to come in here with me. Now,“

Austin’s cheeks warmed in affection and amusement as he watched a twinkle appear in your eye at the idea of getting to live out another one of your little rom-com fantasies. And how you’d suddenly gotten a bit bold in your request.

He sat there for a moment contemplating when ultimately he decided who would he be if he couldn’t be the person to fulfill your fantasies and desires.

He blew out air, “ Fine. I’ll be the Edward to your Vivan, babe. But just know the accidental touching and moving needs to be kept to a minimum. “ You watched as he stood up to pull his shirt above his head and shimmy his pants. “ I mean it. I am a man of virtue after all, honey. A delicate flower you could say. So, I expect to be treated as such.” He teased.

You didn’t have a smart remark to quip back at him because your mind and eyes had both been polluted with the images of him bare before you in all his glory.

Instead you mustered a playful cat call, “ Yeah take it off! Look at those cheeks! “

All Austin could do was smile and shake his head as he walked over and maneuvered himself to get in and sink in between your legs. Your arms found a home around his shoulders and your lips made quick work of placing innocent enough kisses to his skin in places you knew may be less…inflammatory than others.

And you could tell by the low and almost soulful groan Austin let out once he was fully submerged in the calm of the warm water that this was something he needed too. “ Feels good..” He mumbled letting his head back to rest in the valley of your naked breasts.

“ Good.” You replied, as you too were enjoying the warm intimacy of the atmosphere.

“ We don’t do this enough at home.” Austin sounded as you used the soft silicone loofah to scrub and wash his chest.

“ What? “

“ Relaxing…soaking like this.” He rubbed at your knee that was exposed out of the water.

“ I agree.”

“ So..” He squeezed the sponge he’d grabbed and dipped into the water on your back, “ You excited for tomorrow? “

You nodded, “ I am. I’ve visited here once on a family trip and another time for a work thing. But I’ve always felt like I’ve never gotten the true experience. And since Aunt Kiki lives here now I’ve been wanting to visit her. But of course she’s away on a work trip this time of year.”

“ Mhmm.” A hum can from Austin as you move your hand lower.

“ Watch yourself.” Austin mumbled, grabbing that hand to interlock it with his.

And you did, you made it a point to keep your hands clear of the southern equator of your man. That was until you felt him let guard with a sigh and push back into you.

This was the moment you took your opportunity.

A breath hitched, “ Y/N…what are you doing? I thought I made it very clear the stipulations of this arrangement. “

You crane your head down to rest your lips just above the shell of his ear as your hand continues to move toward its desired destination.

He tensed against you when you went to lightly grip at his now half-hard cock in your hand. You moved it up and down a bit before stopping and using the pad of your thumb to quickly run across his tip.

Involuntarily Austin lets out a small hiss at the sensation, “ Alright, that’s enough of that. “ He hand comes to try and halt yours. But you use your leg to stop him.

Instead you ignored him, keeping your attention focused on guiding your hand to stroke him up and down. The water of the tub has begun to sway from the movement, “ I’m not done.” You whispered in his ear. “ You said this weekend was about making me feel good.”

Your tongue darts out to lick and bite at his ear, “ You wanna know what would make me good?

“ Yes.” His answer sounded strained against his voice. By now he’d ever so slightly begun to move his hips upward into your hand, beginning to get lost in the sensation of his touch.

“ What would make me good right now is for you to be a good boyfriend and cum all over my hand for me.” You say, mindful to increase the pace of your hand. “ Please can I have it, baby. Will you give it to me? Will you give your cum, baby? “

“ Oh fuck.” Austin’s head dives back against your breast and his eyes are tightly shut as his body begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure. Your words doing something to him, of course he’d heard you be verbal during exchanges, but never like this. “ I’ll give you anything you want.” He groaned.

“ That good, Aus? “ You used your free hand to come from its place on his chest, to grip at his chin and guide his head to loll to the side. It gives you access to attach your lips to his in what could only be described as a sloppy exchange of love. You swallowed his grunts and groans in your throat while he allowed your soft whimpers to enclose his lips.

By now the water of the tub began to slosh with bits beginning to fly out of the tub and onto the floor from the impact of Austin’s hips coming to meet the pace of your hand.

He reluctantly forced his mouth away from yours, saliva collected on his cheeks. “ Fuck, just like that. Baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing this.”

“ Yeah? That’s what I want, baby. Give it to me, Aus. Show me how much you missed my touch, baby.” You moaned dipping your head to suck on skin you’d long ago identified on his neck to be his “ sweet spot.”

With that he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you watched as his face contorted into a beautiful display of pleasure and angst, his eyelashes fluttered as he shot his thick ropes of cum in your hand. You keep stroking him through it until a hand shoots out to stop you. This time it succeeded as you ceased your movement, and watched his chest heave up and down.

Your hand rubs at his shoulder to help ground him and bring him back to you.

After a couple of minutes with a huff he speaks, “ Was this your plan all along? To get me in this position, baby. So you could use me this way, as your play thing? “ He accuses.

“ Guilty.” You whispered, thinking about how this all was in-fact a long game in getting him here. You knew had it been in the bedroom or anywhere else he would have undermined your advances and made your own pleasure the main focus as usual. But you figured that if you could essentially “ trap him “ into a smaller more controlled environment where you could take the reins a bit, you could finally have a moment to adore your boyfriend the way he always makes sure to adore you.

“ What am I gonna do with you?” He groans and you smile, placing a kiss on his head.

Eventually with no more funny business involved, you both take turns cleaning each other off before he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. And then comes back for you, plucking your wet body out of the water.

Routines are done and pajamas are thrown on quickly before he ushers you both to lay in the big king size bed.

You relish the opportunity to sleep in his arms after so long. It seemed like it’d been a day and forever. When really it’d been about five and a half weeks.

“ Quite the little show you put on there in the bathroom.” He whispered.

“ What can I say, I missed seeing the faces you make like that in person. All those facetime calls just don’t do those flushed cheeks or sweet strangled moans justice,baby. Needed to see it.” You shot back, and went to lightly play at the dip in his shoulder.

“ I see we’ve grown quite bold in my absence.” He muttered, trailing his eyes to your thigh that peaked out from the slightly raised shirt.

“ So what about me? When do I get my own personal refresher of your moans and the way your body arches off the bed when I use my fingers to touch your spot? “

At his words, you could feel your heartbeat begin to race and the all too familiar aching and yearning you’d been feeling throughout your body return.

“ I don’t know. I haven’t felt like that in a while. I’m not as good as you with my hands, baby. “ You casually say.

“ Well. I don’t particularly plan on using my hands tonight. I’ve got a bit of a different approach since we’re so eager to try out new things. “ He said.

And then he said something that knocked the wind out of your chest.

“ Instead I want you to come and sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

It would take you many moments and labored breaths of shock before you mustered up your bewildered response, “ You want me to what?! “

“ You heard me.” Austin laughed from underneath you. You were straddling his lap while he lay flat on the bed and you were pretty sure that maybe he wasn’t getting enough oxygen down there as it was.

“ Aus. You can’t be serious. I-I’m not a Polly Pocket sized girly, babe. I have a nice amount of meat on these here bones.” You countered, “ I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“ What? You don’t think I can handle you? Is that it? “ His voice purred, fingers dancing up along the curve of your spine.

“ Of course not! “ You clarified, “ It’s just that…that.” You huffed trying to gather the right words together. “ I want you to be able to breathe , babe. HOW WILL YOU BREATHE?! “

You watched his face turn in amusement at your flustered state, “ Don’t you worry about that, babe. I’m a big boy. I’ll figure it out. And if not…. when they find me you tell them I died happy and stuffed in-between the sweetest place on earth.” He said, immediately you felt your cheeks flush, “ These thighs.”

“ AUS! “ You softly slapped at his chest, “ Be serious.”

He laughed ,“ I am. They’ll find me with a permanent glistening smile.”

You groaned trying to shimmy off of him but his hands at your sides stopped you. “ Uh huh. From when good ole’ Rick and Mortis set in.”

“ I’m not asking again, darling. “ You yelped when he grabbed your thighs and moved you further up his chest, close to your neck, “ Get up here.”

“ But Aus I- “ You cut yourself off with moan when you felt his hand come to fondle at your breast.

“ What was that? I’m sorry I may not have caught that.”

“ I-w-well-”

He had your virgin ass absolutely flustered.

“ Take em’ off. I want em’ off of you.” He mumbled,scooting you further and tugging at your night shorts.

Obliging, you somehow managed to rid yourself of your shorts and his shirt. At that moment it took all the courage not to fold right there.

You leaned forward against the pretty dark wood headboard to grip at its edges in a fair attempt at stabilizing yourself in your squat.

The plan had been to lower yourself down nice and slow, but leave it to your boyfriend to be an absolutely impatient brat to knock the wind out of you by slamming you down against his face.

You went to make a remark of protest but soon found that the second his tongue touched you, you’d been left unable to form long coherent sentences. A simple moan of, “ Austin!” Was all that was mustered.

He groans as he begins to eagerly lap and lick at your drenched pussy. The vibration alone makes you tighten your grip.

Using his hands he bares down pressing you further into him as you cry out from this new intense feeling. He's calculated with how he uses his tongue to tease the entrance of your opening before gliding it back to suckle at your poor throbbing clit.

The more and more sucks, the more your juices uncontrollably leak from you, until now the sounds of lewd slurping and your moans come together to echo off the walls.

“ That feels so good.” You mewl, unable to control how you begin to grind your pussy against his face.

He lifts up a little bit to mumble, “ Yeah? Am I making this pussy cry with my tongue? She talking to me, honey?” He sends a long lick up your slit making you jump.

“ Yes! Your tongue is so good, baby. It feels so good.” You cried out.

You could practically feel him smile into your pussy when he closed the gap, obviously satisfied with desensitizing you this way.

From there he really started to lay into you, when he laid his tongue completely flat on your clit you couldn’t help the pleas that spilled from your mouth, “ Yes! Yes! Yes! Just like that! Aus, PLEASE.” You began riding his face with more urgency.

A hand came to smack and grip at your ass to help you with your motion, by now your stomach had begun to build up into that all too familiar knot of delicious agony.

“ Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! “ You squealed, “ Aus I’m close! I gotta get up.” You tried scrambling off him and out of his grip, out of fear he truly wouldn’t be able to breathe from how hard you were about to flood his face.

Little did you know that was all the motivation he needed to go harder, using his tongue and mouth to take a grip on your clit that outta to be illegal. He sent a series of smacks to your exposed ass to let you know that you had better not go anywhere.

Tears sprang in your eyes, “ I-I. It’s too much! “

You white knuckled the headboard as your body began to heat up and spark with your impending orgasm. “ Aus I’m about to cum all over your fucking face!”

“ That’s it, baby. Let go for me.” He moaned out against you.

Gripping your ass harder he helped grind you faster against his tongue until he felt your body begin convulsing above him, “ I’m fucking cumming! Aus! Yes! Yes! Yes! “ You hissed, feeling the floodgates overtake you.

After cleaning you up with a couple more licks and slurps, he catches your limp body and gently lowers you to lay next to him.

Through hazy pleasure ridden eyes you look over to see that previously mentioned glistening smile set across his face as he lays triumphantly next to you!

You feel the bed dip as he disappears into the bathroom and returns with two damp towels: one for you and one for him.

He goes to really clean you up before hoisting you in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom to pee.

After everything is said and done, he brings a now sleepy you into his chest, arms creating a warm cage of comfort, “ So, will I be doing that again this weekend?” His hands rub your back.

You nod and he smiles, “ That good? “

Voice cracking you whisper back, “ Could you not tell by the way I left Lake Erie on your face that it was fuckin’ amazing.”

“ Just checking. “ He laughed, “ Next time we’ll try for the Mississippi, yeah?”

_____

Next Day

Madison Square Garden

New York Rangers vs Philadelphia Flyers Game

“ I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I’ve always wanted to go to one of these.” You squealed looking out at the crisp white ice while you were surrounded by thousands of other people.

Cup of water in hand and popcorn in lap, you’d dressed in thick wool lined jeans , a Flyers jersey, converse, and had your baseball cap to the back in spirit of your first time seeing a Flyers game in person.

Austin laughed and took a sip of the wine he’d gotten. “ I’m glad we’re enjoying ourselves. I keep forgetting you told me you were a little hockey fan. Would have never guessed.”

You laugh, “ Yeah. When I was little my Aunt dated the guy who did the sound at the games for the Blue Jackets so we always got tickets. She’d go and take us up on the weekends and I can remember just always having the best time. Ever since I’ve become quite fond of hockey. The smell of the wet ice when they redo it, the chill of the arena, the way the glass rattles when the players zip by. I love it.”

Austin noticed the way you hadn’t taken your eyes off the ice the entire time you were talking about this little passion of yours. A smile passed his face in satisfaction that he’d learned something new about you. For most of the rest of the time he got more pleasure from watching you watch the game then actually paying attention to what was going on himself.

The way your nose scrunched when a shot was missed, your little squeals when your team regained the puck, and even how you held your own and weren’t afraid to get back with surrounding audience members who may have said something to you out of the way.

This was hockey after all.

By the time halftime rolled around you were content at watching your favorite little segments.

Kid of the game, celeb look alike, and your personal favorite: The Kiss Cam.

The cliche track by Sixpence None The Richer echoed throughout the arena as you watched couples old and young peck each other and giggle for the camera.

It warmed your heart, but what happened next made it drop to your ass and roll onto the ice.

Because suddenly, your face made up in about a million pixels on the big kiss cam screen, there you and your grinning boyfriend were on display for the whole world.

People around you had begun to cheer and you could see Austin’s face was turning a shade of candy apple red.

“ Aus.” You whispered, half covering our face. The encouragement and cheering only grew louder and you felt Austin’s hand come to remove yours from your face. “ Hey. C’mon we can’t let everyone else have all the fun.”

“ Just pretend it’s you and I. Only us. Okay?” He whispered, taking your face into his hands.

You nodded and took a deep breath closing your eyes with a mixture of excitement and nerves pinging through you as your lips connected with his in a sweet little innocent kiss.

The whoops and cheers intensified around you and when you pulled away you saw the wide smile Austin had his arm around your waist and you both waved to the camera one last time.

After you were off Austin wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your head, “ Always wanted to kiss a pretty girl on one of those things. Never thought I’d ever get the guts to do it. Guess dreams come true.“ He laughed.

You could still feel your heart pounding in your chest a bit thinking about how you’d replay that moment in your head for who knew how long to come, “ Yeah. They really do, they really do.”

He placed a kiss on your hand and the both of you returned your attention back to the screen just as an older couple appeared.

Eventually after some shouting, another small bag of popcorn, and twenty autographs from Austin to some fans later, the game was over, the Flyers beat the Rangers, and the two of you happily walked along to the car.

“ Home for a nap. “ Austin suggested.

“ Yes Please.” You yawned, feeling the excitement of the day beginning to catch up with you.

______

Austin’s Brownstone - 8:23pm

“ Well, Good Evening sleepy-head.” Austin greeted your groggy figure as you sat up with a pile of blankets sliding from you.

“ Evening?! “ You yawned while looking around at the dimming sky outside the big bay window in the living room. “ My gosh, babe. How long did you let me sleep? What time is it? Don’t we have reservations? “

You looked over to the loveseat where Austin had his feet propped up with a book in hand.

“ Woah. “ He held up a hand, “ Slow down. Take a breath.”

“ I let you sleep because you needed to rest, Babe. It’s about eight-twenty five right now and I called and canceled the reservations we had because truth be told I’m a little tired too. “

Your bottom lip stuck out and you went to protest but he held up a hand.

“ So, instead I thought maybe you’d want to order in. Your choice. Thai, Italian, Mexican…” He threw out the options. Nothing sounds good.

“ Do you know any good sandwich places? “

______

Forty five minutes and two wrapped hero sandwiches later…

“ Two-truths and one lie go.” You randomly said, reaching for one of his fries.

“ Hmm. Alright. Well, I once shared the same production lot with Beyoncé and met her. “ He began, “ Two, I used to come home every single day in elementary school to eat lunch with my mother, and I once played a sad tree in my acting group’s play when I was younger..”

You threw up your grease ridden hands, “ Automatically I'm gonna assume that the Beyonce thing is unfortunately untrue because I don’t think you would’ve held out on me like that. And I’m almost positive from that picture your sister showed that you were a sad bird in that play. So,I don’t know…maybe the lunch thing. I wouldn’t think an elementary school would let a kid walk home like that? Right? “

Austin smiled, “ Well my dear. Unfortunately this one you’d be wrong because all through elementary school I did in fact have a standing lunch appointment with my mother everyday.” He revealed.

“ Really?! And the school just let you go? “

He nodded, “ Yeah. We started doing it because of how shy I was. I couldn't really make friends at that age because of it, so sometimes it was hard being in school. Everyone knew everyone in town so the walk home and back was a breeze. We always ate P & J’s and watched cartoons or old westerns.” He recalled the fond memories. “ I know with work and other things at the time I’m sure her doing it wasn’t exactly ideal, but she still always made it work.”

Your heart swelled for him as you reached out to rub his shoulder.

“ Awe, Austin, that sounds so sweet. She seemed amazing. “

“ Yeah, she was.” He sighed, “ She really was.”

“ Wish I’d had a mom like that.” You sighed, “ I wish I would have had a mom period. “

As soon as the words left your mouth and you saw the look on Austin’s face, you instantly felt embarrassed.

It wasn’t like Austin didn’t know about your situation, it just wasn’t something that you had in-depth discussed before. And you also really weren’t trying to make this seem about you either. It was just a little slip of word vomit.

You backtracked, “ I mean I do have a Mom. Just, it’s rather I just…have no idea where she is. Sorta…”

Noticing you were about to say more but held yourself back, Austin encouraged you to continue, “ Hey. It’s alright. Tell me.”

“ Okay well. From what I know, my Aunt said after I turned a year my mother wasn’t really around much. Started going out and hanging around with friends all hours of the night, and she just really didn’t seem that interested in Gracie and me anymore. Even disappeared for days at a time.”

“ She left my Dad a note one night. On it she explained that she couldn’t imagine another day of being a mother. Specifically she said that it was draining something out of her that she was afraid she’d never get back. That we’d all be better off without her being there, herself included.”

“ I was only a year and some change and Gracie was almost five. And Dad did the best he could raising two girls by himself. He didn’t date much or anything really. Just was a devoted GM Plant worker and an even more devoted Dad.”

“ A couple years later he found out that she’d remarried, moved to a part of Spain, and had more children. So, he made the decision to go to court and officially file for full custody of us. Which she didn’t contest, naturally.” You continued, “ I don’t think he ever really got over it, unfortunately.”

“ He never talked about her at all. And when he passed away when I was thirteen from congestive heart failure we went to live with our grandmother in Georgia. Gracie graduated and decided to move to Texas to pursue a career in public service. And after graduation I got a scholarship to Arizona State, so my grandmother moved and then decided to travel the world.”

“ If you don’t mind me asking, has she ever tried to reach out? “ Austin questioned.

You nodded, “ Only once. Not to me though.” You clarified.

“ When Gracie got married. Somehow she’d found Gracie’s address and sent a letter. Gracie read it but never responded. And she never told me what the letter said either. Her silent way of still protecting her little sister. I guess.”

“ Would you have wanted to know what it said? “

“ I don't really know. Maybe? Maybe not? “ You answered. “ She wrote it just to Gracie. So, I'm sure there’s a reason for that.”

“ Being honest….” You started feeling your lip begin to quiver and eyes water at the incoming thought. “ I always wondered if I was the reason she left? Like maybe I was hard to take care of or if carrying me did something negative to her. I-I *sniffle* It doesn’t sound like she wanted to leave when she had Gracie, so why after me? Why didn’t she stay? “

Your vision had full on fuzzied out now and your cheeks were slick with tears, turning his head to look at you all Austin could do was feel his heart ache.

He tried to reach out but you instinctively moved away trying to cover your face, “ Don’t. It’s fine.” Your voice cracked.

He frowned, “ No it’s not, babe. You’re upset. My best girl is crying. Nothing is ever fine when my best girl is crying. It’s very far from fine actually.” He fussed moving toward you still.

“ Hey.” He cooed, while reaching over to gently grab you and pull you onto his body, “ Hey. Shhh. It’s okay. Let it out.” He encouraged, rubbing your back and placing a kiss to your head as small sobs still escaped you.

A hand went to your head to hold against him as he offered you all of his love and comfort.

After a while you’d began to settle and quiet at the warm feeling of being enveloped in his arms and calmed by his words. He hated that you were feeling this way. In situations like this it truly made Austin appreciate his mother, he couldn’t have imagined ever having any other maternal experience then what he had. He wished everyone could have had that.

“ Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face and wiped at the tears while you sniffled, “ Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life, sweetheart.”

“ I’m lucky to have you in my life.” He affirmed while making sure your eye contact never broke, tears forming in his. “ You hear me? I love you.”

You nodded, clinging to his shirt, “ I love you too, Austin.”

He smiled, “ Of course. Snot and all.” He teased making you giggle and shriek away from him.

He went to lean over and hand you the tissue box he’d snatched.

“ Now, let’s get into bed. How about a shower and a movie? Any movie you want.”

At this declaration you perked, “ Any movie? “

Now a bit skeptical, Austin still nodded, “ Any movie.”

______

“ Okay, I changed my mind. Any movie but this one.” He groaned.

“ Austin.” You mirrored his groan.

“ Fine.” He mumbled dragging you into his arms as the beginning of Lilo and Stitch played on the screen.

“ You really like this movie, huh? “ Austin chuckled into your headscarf.

“ It’s my favorite! I was obsessed when I was little. I had a lilo and stitch lunch box, bed set, and all kinds of stuff.” You explained.’

“ And have you ever been to Hawaii? “

“ Nu uh. Haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe one day.”

“ Uh huh.” Austin yawned.

Maybe one day real soon…

#daysofourlove #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black reader #austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Seven

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Billy is a bit of an asshole in this one and briefly restrains reader during an argument. Also he's kind of an entitled douche. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~2.8k

A/N : Ok, so this chapter and the next chapter technically happen on Halloween (I know, i'm super late with this, it's just how things panned out when I decided to post a chapter a week) Thanks to everyone still following this and for all the likes, comments and reblogs, y'all are awesome!!

Chapter Seven

You should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy to get Billy Russo out of your life, not after the night you’d shared together.

Six days.

That was all it took before he was trying to pull you back in and you hated that you hadn’t expected it. You’d let yourself hope that your one night had been enough, that he’d managed to get you out of his system and he’d be able to move onto whatever woman caught his eye next.

And, you - you’d been trying to forget all about it, about him. You hated leaving him but you knew it was the right thing to do, your life was too messy and you knew that you’d never recover if you let yourself fall for a man like Billy and he broke your heart. You’d done what was best for the both of you, so it pissed you off that Billy didn’t seem to want to accept that.

And it pissed you off even more that he’d decided to use your job against you - a job that he’d never seemed to judge you for, that he was now using to drag you across the city because he wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer. He’d even had the audacity to pre-pay with a two hundred dollar tip, like he thought he could buy you.

By the time you got to Anvil to collect whatever it was Billy wanted you to courier, you were livid. You made your way through the lobby and up to the top floor and, eventually, found yourself in front of the secretary.

“I’m here to collect a package,” you told her.

“Mr Russo wants to hand you it personally,” she answered in a flat tone, waving her hand towards his door, barely looking up from her computer.

“Of course he does,” you sighed, “look, I’m in a rush, can’t you just get it and bring it out here?”

“That’s above my paygrade.” And something told you that that was all you were going to get from her.

So, you did the only thing that you could do; you took a deep breath and stormed into his office. He was sitting at his desk, a takeout coffee and a half eaten bagel in front of him, and when he saw you, he had the nerve to smile.

“One night, Billy, that was the agreement,” you snapped before the door had even finished closing behind you, “We had one night and now it’s done, over.”

He didn’t answer straight away, instead he buzzed the intercom and told his secretary to go get her lunch, presumably so no one would overhear you screaming at him. And, then he stood, smoothing down his suit jacket as he did, looking every bit the businessman with an offer to pitch.

“I want a new agreement,” he stated calmly, rounding his desk and stepping closer, clearing the distance between you. “Nothing is over.”

“And - what? - you think you can buy me now? You think you can just throw a two-hundred dollar tip at me and I’ll fall into bed with you?” You didn’t even try to hold back the anger and the hurt. “Does it make you feel powerful, dragging the poor little bike messenger across town to your big fancy office? Is the money because you want to fuck me or is that supposed to be payment for the other night?”

“That’s not - I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” the hint of regret in his voice earned him no mercy from you, “I just wanted to see you, the money was so you couldn’t refuse.”

“I don’t want your money, Billy. And, for the record, when a woman sneaks out on you before you wake up, it’s because she’s done with you and doesn’t want to see you again.” You hadn’t come here with the intention of being needlessly cruel, but you needed to make Billy understand that things between you were finished. “When you care about someone you don’t go out of your way to make them feel cheap - Oh, wait, that’s right, you’re not capable of caring about anyone, are you?”

There was a flicker of hurt on his face but he was quick to recover.

“How long was it?” He asked. “How long had you gone without being fucked before me? Years, I’m guessing. You think you can go back to that after a night in my bed?”

“Who says I’m going back to that?” You answered back, and Billy didn’t like it one bit.

“You think you’re gonna find anyone who can make you feel the way I did?” Billy gave a huff of laughter, shaking his head. Some part of you knew he was right, that nothing would ever be like the night you shared, but you were angry and you weren’t going to let him win.

“Guess I’ll just have to find out,” you shrugged and his gaze darkened. “I suggest you do the same, Billy.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” He admitted angrily, and you felt like you’d just been punched in the stomach.

“What?” Rage and pain coiled inside you. Less than a week and he’d already tried to replace you. How long had it taken to fall into bed with the next one? You hated yourself for even daring to wonder. You wanted this, you wanted him to move on, but you never expected it to hurt so much. “So you dragged me here to tell me how much you want me after you’ve been fucking other women?”

“I didn’t fuck anyone. I couldn’t because of you,” and you could see just how angry that made him. “D’you think I want to feel like this? That I want to be stuck on the one woman in New York who doesn’t want me? Who doesn’t even want to use me? Have you got any idea how fucked up and broken you make me feel?”

There was a painful honesty in his words, something that he clearly saw as a weakness that needed to be overcome.

“You want to talk about feeling fucked up and broken, Billy? I told you from the start that I couldn’t do this, but you pushed and pushed until you got your way.” Your voice broke, betraying your pain, eyes desperately blinking as you tried to fight back tears. “You turned my whole fucking life upside down and now - now you’re telling me you only want me because you can’t fuck anyone else?”

Something in him seemed to break in that moment and whatever anger he’d been feeling washed away. He reached for you, fingers ghosting your cheek before you pulled away.

“Let me -”

“No, Billy. This has to stop, you have to let me move on.”

“No.”

“It’s not your choice to make.”

He took a breath and, for a second, he looked like he was going to relent. But, of course, he didn’t.

“So, that’s it? You’re gonna go fuck some random guy just to try and prove to yourself that you don’t want me as much as I want you?” His sharp tone was quick to return. “You’re gonna let some guy use you just to make a point?”

“If that’s what it takes, I -”

“Bullshit,” he shook his head, “we both know that’s not gonna happen.”

Were you really that predictable, that easy to read? Probably. He’d seen you panic, afterall. No. No. Billy-fucking-Russo didn’t get to dictate what you did or how you felt. You weren’t going to give him that power over you. No one got to have that power over you. Never Again.

Anger had you reaching out, slapping him before shoving him backwards, knocking him off balance. And, after that first stumble, you found yourself lashing out again and again, pushing Billy back across his office, and you didn’t stop until he made you. He took hold of your wrists, stopping you from pushing again.

“Fuck you!” You all but snarled at him as you struggled against his grip.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do, sweetheart,” he answered back, tone matching yours.

“I’ll fuck whoever I want, Billy, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He gave a sharp tug on your wrists, pulling your body against his.

“I told you before; you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of. I won’t let you” He was right, you didn’t, but you found yourself remembering what Krista told you, that he was dangerous. And you started to think that maybe she was right afterall.

“You can’t stop me.” All the while, trying to pull yourself from his grip.

“Yes I can. You’re mine and I don’t let anyone touch what’s mine, sweetheart.”

“I’m not yours,” and that was when the panic started to set it. You thrashed against his hold on you, lashing out and trying to knee him in the balls. He angled himself away from you, twisting your arms and managing to turn you so your back was pressed against him.

All you could think was that he’d never let you go, that this would be your life now, completely at his mercy. You’d have to leave New York to get away from him, you’d have to uproot your whole life again. He held tight, even as your feet lifted off the ground, kicking out as you struggled, desperate to get away from him.

“Let go!” The tears that you’d been trying to hold back soon started to fall.

“Not until you calm down,” you hated the concern in his voice - he didn’t get to worry about you, not when he was doing this. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“You’re hurting me!” You cried out in a strangled sob.

Billy let go of you suddenly and pulled away from you, realising that he’d fucked up. You took a few steps forward before you dared to turn back to him, and he looked broken, devastated by what he’d done. When you said he was hurting you, you meant in general, you meant the ache he caused in your chest, but Billy was looking at you terrified, like he’d done even more than that. For reasons you didn’t understand, it made your heart ache to see him like that.

“I didn’t -” he tried but there weren’t any words. Billy knew that he’d crossed a line, that he’d really fucked up. “I wasn’t trying to -”

“Just - just stop,” you finally managed, a hand clumsily trying to wipe away your tears.

“I can’t,” barely able to bring himself to look at you, “I don’t know what I did wrong. What was so bad that you can’t even bear to see me again? I don’t know how I fucked this up, you just left me and I don’t know why...”

“I -”

You hated that he was right, that you hadn’t even tried to see any of this from his point of view. This all could have been avoided if you’d done things a little differently; all the times you chose not to remind him it was just for a night, the way you’d slipped out without saying goodbye. How had he felt waking up to find you gone after the amazing night you’d shared? You hadn’t thought about it. Leaving him had been hard enough but, after everything, the least you could have done was leave a note.

What had been on his mind that night when he fell asleep wrapped around you? Had he dared to hope that he could convince you to stay?

“What did I do?” He asked again.

Nothing. Your night together had been perfect and it had meant so much to you.

“I thought you had a good time with me.”

“I did, but it was one night, Billy. I left because it was over.” You wanted to at least give him that, to let him know that it wasn’t him.

“It’s not over, not for me.” He dared to take a step forward, and you took a step back. The pain on his face was unbearable and it felt like everything you said only made it worse.

“It’s not a discussion, Billy. I told you this couldn’t go anywhere.” You took a few more steps, not stopping until you were by the door. “Don’t do this again. Just leave me alone. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Yes you will.” Spoken like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind.

“Goodbye, Billy.” You shook your head as you pulled the door open, not daring to look back, not daring to say anything else; you needed it to be over, you needed to get away from him. Thankfully, he let you leave without any fuss. But, as you made your way to the elevator and out of the Anvil building, his words kept replaying in your mind, and the more you thought about it, the angrier you got; the fact that he’d tried to move on so quickly while he thought you’d be stuck on him forever, the way he’d dared call you his when he didn’t even know you.

You finally managed to choke back your tears in the elevators and, by the time you were outside, you had your phone in your hand, texting Tammy - she’d mentioned a Halloween night out with some of Anvil’s new recruits and, suddenly, you were very interested in a night on the town. You were going to go out and you were going to prove Billy wrong.

But, you didn’t have anything to wear and that meant borrowing one of Tammy’s old Halloween outfits, all of which came with the prefix sexy. Of course you very quickly ruled out sexy nun, sexy nurse and sexy cop. And that left you with a sexy catwoman costume, consisting of a faux-leather bodysuit, cut a little low at the front, but it had long sleeves and came with a mask, so you could at least hide just how embarrassed you were. You managed to cover yourself up a little more with fishnet tights, a pair of knee high boots and a leather jacket.

At the start of the night Tammy was full of questions, wanting to know what had happened with you and Billy, and if it was going to affect her position at Anvil in any way. She knew that you’d spent the night with him, but that you’d snuck back into the apartment before six am. But, fortunately for you, once other people started showing up at the bar she lost interest in you.

You started out in a little bar, drinking vodka and Redbull, and shots of tequila every time one was placed in front of you. Over a dozen people turned up, mostly Anvil trainee’s but a few of the office staff who worked with Tammy too. Including Michelle. But, aside from throwing you a shitty look, she stayed away, too distracted by the attention she was getting for her costume; a strapless white bodysuit, shirt cuffs, and bunny ears. It wasn’t long before the phones started coming out and people started taking pictures. You stayed in the background, enjoying your drink until it was time to move on to the club.

Before leaving the bar, you decided to dip into the bathroom, needing a moment to think about what you really wanted. Part of you just wanted to go home; you didn’t want to hook up with some random guy just to prove a point, but what other choice did you have? How else could you get Billy to finally let you go?

“I can’t believe Billy took her to the gala and not you,” the voice sounded vaguely familiar, one of Tammy’s friends. You froze, knowing that they were talking about you.

“He probably just wanted an easy lay,” Michelle. You held your breath, not even daring to move, even though some part of you wanted to storm out of the cubical and confront her. “But, tonight’s the night, I’m going to show Billy Russo just what he’s been missing out on.”

“He’s coming to the club?”

Fuck.

“Look what I sent him,” you heard shuffling and remained completely silent, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Oh my God, you sent him a thirst trap and he fell for it.” They both laughed, finishing up whatever they’d been doing at the sink, their voices getting further away as they finally left the bathroom.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry - after everything he’d told you, all it had taken was a picture of Michelle to have him moving on. Was he doing it to hurt you, you wondered. He knew how it had made you feel seeing him with her in your apartment. But, that was ridiculous. Billy didn’t even know that you were there. And you realised you could turn that to your advantage; if he saw you leave with another man, he’d have to admit that it was over between you...

CHAPTER EIGHT

END NOTES : With this one being a Halloween chapter, I decided to post it a little earlier than usual and will probably post the next part within the next week before we get too close to Christmas (and also because then hopefully the chapters that are set at Christmas will be posted at an appropriate time). Also I'm sorry everyone was so shitty to reader this chapter.

Thanks for reading!!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #the punisher #cmiyc ff #ben barnes

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bookscandlesnbts · 20 days

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Songs that Remind me of Jikook Part 1

While we wait impatiently for the Jikook travel show, I thought it might be fun to share song recs that remind us of Jikook beyond the classics: There For You, all the other GCF songs, Own It, Body Electric, Serendipity, Magic Shop, Still With You, ect. You can use these songs to add to your playlist or when you listen to them, you can think of Jikook too! I have three recommendations in this post.

1. Agora Hills by Doja Cat.

I know Doja is controversial and so is her partner BUT this song bangs y’all. The beat is nasty and the lyrics are so so Jikook coded (to me). Screen shot of one of the most Jikook-esque parts of the song but honestly the verses fit so well too. We know how much Jungkook and Jimin love to brag on each other and gush over each other. And sometimes they even get a little wild *cough Rosebowl and hickey gate and footsies*

2. Call it What You Want by Taylor Swift

This song is the only one in Taylor’s discography that is extremely Jikook coded to me. I screenshotted my favorite part but again, the whole song screams Jikook to me. The “trust him like a brother” lyric feels like a dig to anyone who screams that Jikook are brothers as a form of coping with the fact that they definitely aren’t. And I love the whole concept of Call It What You Want being about speculation about a romantic relationship and the two lovers don’t care you can call their bond whatever you want but they will still love and support each other. If that’s not Jikook idk what is.

3. Coma by Caroline Polachek

Okay, hear me out with this one because if you haven’t heard of Caroline Polachek (she’s the least mainstream on this list) then I promise you are missing out. Caroline is amazing. Shes definitely experimental, so if that isn’t your thing then you probably won’t like this gorgeous 5 minute song, but I’m obsessed with it. Her voice is so ethereal, the instrumental is busy but addicting and the lyrics are simple but effective as hell. Overall, the song gives a wholesome lovey dovey vibe that truly feels like you are floating. It reminds me of Jikook because when I listen to this I imagine this is how they feel being with each other for so many years and truly “I am you, you are me”. If you give this one a chance and love it, let me know. I stan Caroline so hard and think everyone should experience her genius. Her whole album Desire, I Want To Turn Into You top to bottom is an art pop masterpiece.

Feel free to comment or reblog with your recs! I want to create a fun Jikook playlist with the classics and songs that generally remind me of them. I’ll do another part when inspiration strikes and I’ve got more recs!

#jikook #kookmin #song recs

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songforeddiemunson · 2 years

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Mistaken Identities

I normally don't write RPF (no shame to those who do!) but this funny little drabble popped into my noggin today watching everyone melting down over a picture of Joe speaking with a female. If you like, please reblog and tag with feedback!

Joe Quinn x Reader

Summary: Joe spots something ridiculous in the daily tabloid.

Warnings: established relationship. vanilla, funny, no smut, bit of cussing, mild fluff, weed mention, adultery mention, Joe is pouty, reader is amused

Word count: 687 (just a wee thing)

~~~~

You’re just getting ready to take the first sip of your morning coffee when the freshly-printed tabloid of the day slaps down on the table in front of you with a light whup, making the wispy hairs around your face flutter.

You gingerly pick it up as you turn your head up to look at your husband, who is standing above you wearing an expression of total exasperation.

“Look at that shite,” Joe sighs, gesturing vaguely at the tabloid he just dumped in front of you.

You turn your head back to the paper in your hands and see, in the middle of the page in large bold letters, “Y/N SPOTTED SMOOCHING STRANGER, CHEATS ON HUSBAND!”

The photo below the headline was a grainy, too-zoomed photo of you standing at the top step of your rented flat, leaning down to plant a kiss on the lips of a tall, slim man standing a couple of steps down. His face is mostly obscured by long dark curls that cascade past his shoulders, but he’s wearing a white baseball tee with black sleeves, tight black jeans with torn knees, white high tops, and a silver wallet chain dangling from the back to front jeans pockets. His lean forearms are extended forward, dotted with tattoos, and his hands grip the railing of the steps you are standing upon. His head is tilted up to yours, the ghost of a smile on his lips barely visible beneath the long tresses. Overlaid in the upper corner of the photo is a round bubble featuring Joe’s face, pulling an overdramatic pout. You burst out laughing.

“This is so not funny,” Joe scowls in reply to your peals of laughter, looking a bit like his bubble photo. He huffs down in the seat perpendicular to yours at the table. He scrubs his hand across his face in frustration, but you can see that he’s fighting back a tired smile.

You flick your eyes back to the page, and begin reading the byline.

“Is there trouble in paradise with it-couple Joseph Quinn and Y/N?” you begin, and Joe audibly groans. You ignore him. “While hubby is away shooting for the hit Netflix smash Stranger Things, the naughty wife will play!” You hear your husband snort to your left. “Are they shitting me with this,” you squeal, half laughing, half in disbelief.

“It gets worse,” Joe says, burying his face in his hands.

You read on. “The proof is in the pudding with this pap snap, showing Y/N planting a salacious smooch on this mysterious headbanger. Will cuckold Joe give wifey another chance?” You bark out shocked laughter.

“I’ve been called a cuckold today and I’ve not even had my coffee yet,” Joe says flatly, making you laugh harder. “You know,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t make me visit you during lunch every day in costume.”

You hold your hands up in mock surrender, letting the paper fall to the table. “Hey, don’t blame me,” you say, giggling. “You look hot as hell in that outfit.”

Joe slouches down in his chair, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “No more nooners with Eddie, love. Now my wife is cheating on me…with me. Fabulous.”

“You can’t withhold Eddie,” you say, eyes wide in hyperbolic panic. “This isn’t his fault!” Your husband finally laughs at that one.

“I’ll make some calls and sort it out," you say with a conciliatory tone. "Don’t worry, everyone will think this is hilarious. I’ll post some pictures of us while you’re in costume and you can actually see your face.”

“If Netflix will let you. I’m fully expecting to be shot by a sniper at any moment,” Joe replies, smiling.

“You should relax more my love,” you tell him, picking up your cellphone to call your publicist and standing up. You plant a kiss to his forehead. “Get Eddie to sell you some weed,” you say, before heading out of the room and down the hall.

“Oh fuck off,” Joe calls to your departing back. “I have my own weed.”

MASTERLIST

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn drabble #my writing

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kingofbodyrolls · 17 days

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | eleven

🐴Chapter summary: Everything is good, you and Jimin are happy, and you finally have everything you’ve always dreamed of. 🐴Chapter title: This Perfect Day 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: pet names, unprotected sex; public sex (they do it in a cattle truck parked at the side of the road), oral: blowjob, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, breast play, nipple play, a lot of kissing, creampie, cockwarming, hair pulling, marking, a lot of sexual tension again, praise kink, dirty talk and fluff. 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 14.4k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Say You’re Mine” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: as I’m writing this note, I’m going to post chapter 6. I still feel very discouraged to post… I love the few of you who have taken time out to comment and reblog with nice words— truly 🥹 but the engagement (notes/kudos) are just not what they used to. I’m at that place where I’m thinking about not posting anymore, at all. Like posting gives me this horrible feeling? Like seeing 30 notes, when I used to get 200-300 😭 I know I’m complaining, and I don’t usually do this, but I’m gonna address it. I’m a firm believer in, if something doesn’t give you something good, but instead something bad, drop it. So, there’s a very high chance that this series will be my last in a while. I can’t speak for the future— I’m still gonna write, because that truly gives me so much joy, I’m just not gonna share it (at the moment). Maybe later, when I feel better about it. And maybe I’ll change my mind, who knows? But right now, I don’t feel good about posting this series, and it’s hard, because I love it so fucking much, but I know it’s not for everyone… but yeah, anyway, I’ll crawl back to the whole I came from. Happy reading! 🌸

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

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“This day, this perfect dayPeace, peace at lastLove blurs, love blurs my eyesAnd my heart is in your hands” - ‘This Perfect Day’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Everywhere you turn, the faint scent of roses dances in the air, infusing your senses with a vitality that makes you feel truly alive. Vibrant hues burst forth like a kaleidoscope, saturating both your canvas and the world around you. Everything feels harmoniously perfect, as if the universe itself is painting a masterpiece just for you.

Jessi has outlined the urgency of relocating the cattle to a more accessible paddock closer to home, which is essential before they’re auctioned off in just a few days. You’re gearing up for a daunting cattle muster that she warns could stretch into days of hard work. Uncertain of the necessities for an extended cattle drive, you pack cautiously, opting for practicality with spare underwear and shirts. The thought of wearing the same attire doesn’t bother you, so long as you can avoid the sweat and grime that comes with the task ahead.

Ha-rin whirls around the kitchen, a flurry of activity as she ensures there’s ample sustenance for the journey ahead. With a mix of urgency and precision, she assembles sandwiches, packs canned goods, and meticulously stores vegetables in containers and bags, her determination evident in every swift movement. As Ha-rin meticulously organizes the provisions, the rest of your group converge in the barn, your footsteps echoing against the wooden floor as you prepare the horses for the journey ahead. With a shared sense of purpose, you check the gear, tighten the saddles, and ensure each steed is ready for the long ride ahead.

You step into Mikrokosmos’ stall, enveloping her in a heartfelt embrace, relieved beyond measure to have her safely back in her stall. Gratitude wells up within you for Jimin’s unwavering assistance in locating her, a debt you can never fully repay. The day after you got Mikrokosmos home, Jessi and Jungkook went out and collected the rest of the horses safely back home.

“Hey girl, we’re going out for a ride for a few days,” you murmur softly to Mikrokosmos, your touch reassuring as she responds with a gentle whinny, conveying her understanding. Guiding her out of the stall, you lead her into the heart of the bustling barn, each step resonating with the anticipation of the journey ahead. Alongside Ara, Soo-ah, and Jessi, you all prepare your trusted companions for the expedition, a united front in ensuring Ha-rin’s horse is also equipped for the ride too.

“Ah, these long cattle drives are pure magic,” Ara exclaims, her voice dancing with infectious enthusiasm, as if her joy is a melody eager to be sung.

Soo-ah trails behind, her voice edged with a hint of disdain. “I swear, these drives are a literal pain in the ass. Who wants to endure days of saddle soreness? Not me, that’s for damn sure.”

You chuckle, a shared understanding passing between you and Soo-ah. Memories of your last cattle drive flood back, the discomfort of countless hours in the saddle still fresh in your mind.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Jessi strides out of the barn, leading Cinnamon by the reins. Meanwhile, the rest of you hustle to prepare your horses for the cattle drive ahead.

Efficiently, you outfit Mikrokosmos, ensuring she’s well-prepared for the trek ahead with saddle bags stocked full of essentials. As you complete the task, you notice Ara and Soo-ah wrapping up their own preparations. With your horses in tow, including an additional one for Ha-rin, you step outside to rendezvous with your sister.

As the four of you guide your horses down to the house, eagerly awaiting Ha-rin’s arrival with provisions to load into your saddle bags, anticipation thrums in your veins, heightened by the prospect of reuniting with Jimin soon. You’ve all agreed to lend a hand, recognizing the value of teamwork when it comes to managing the cattle. Just the thought of Jimin’s presence sets your heart aflutter – his warm brown eyes, his infectious smile, and the reassuring strength of his frame. Your mind drifts to his robust physique, envisioning the comforting embrace of his arms, the definition of his biceps, the warmth of his hands, and—

“Voila!” Ha-rin bursts out of the house, her arms laden with bags brimming with an assortment of provisions. With a cheerful efficiency, she distributes the supplies among the group, and you deftly pack the essentials into the two saddlebags snugly nestled beneath Mikrokosmos’ saddle.

With a synchronized grace, you each swing into the saddle and set off in a spirited gallop towards the Bell Ranch. The journey, though brief, is a symphony of exhilaration, the wind tousling your hair as if in playful dance, while the sky overhead paints a magnificent canvas of fiery reds and warm golden hues, igniting the landscape with a vibrant energy.

As the ranch emerges into view, your gaze fixates on the figures in the yard, each poised atop their horses. Yet amidst the group, your attention is magnetically drawn to Jimin. Clad in his signature simplicity—a crisp white t-shirt, weathered denim trousers, and beloved boots—he exudes a rugged charm that’s both timeless and alluring. But it’s his eyes that hold you captive, sparkling with a depth of emotion, perhaps even a hint of desire, while his smile, radiant and genuine, seems to illuminate the entire landscape, a beacon of warmth and affection reserved solely for you.

As you approach him astride Mikrokosmos, you offer a warm greeting, “Hey there.”

You lean in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, momentarily oblivious to the playful banter and catcalls from the others, a shared chuckle escaping both of you amidst the uproar.

“Hey, babe,” he breathes out, his voice breathless and his gaze lingering on your lips. You can’t help but nibble on your own, a nervous habit in the wake of his overwhelming presence. It’s astonishing how effortlessly he stirs something deep within you with just a simple kiss. Memories flood your mind, recalling the intense moments shared with Jimin during your recent escapade in the wilderness. Now, amidst the chatter of friends and the anticipation of another adventure, you can’t help but wonder if this time will be different, if the chemistry between you two will ignite once more, maybe with less action, because that would truly be weird in front of everybody.

As your horses amble lazily forward, Jimin’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining seamlessly. The simple act sends a jolt of warmth coursing through you, a silent promise of companionship amidst the vast expanse of the open landscape.

“Are we all ready?” Jessi’s voice cuts through the anticipation, her gaze sweeping over the assembled group, met with a chorus of affirmations.

“Alright, team. Remember the drill: keep it smooth and stress-free,” Jessi’s voice rings out with authority, her grip tightening on the reins as she guides Cinnamon into a purposeful trot. “Our herd’s a day’s ride east-west from here. Let’s make it count.”

With a silent nod to Jimin, you release his hand, urging Mikrokosmos into a spirited gallop. Together, you and Jimin form the rear of your group, a silent understanding passing between you. As you ride, you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok up ahead, their easy friendship evident in their smiles and hushed conversation. Mental notes flutter through your mind, a reminder to inquire about their date with Yoongi later on.

As the sun climbs to its zenith, you ride on until the familiar call for a break echoes through the air, signaling a pause for rest and sustenance. Settling down beside Jimin, his presence a comforting anchor beside you, you lean gently into the solidity of his frame, finding solace in the warmth he radiates.

The horses graze on the tender grass, luxuriating in their well-deserved respite, and you take a moment to replenish yourself with cool water and nourishing sustenance, feeling the energy seep back into your weary limbs with each sip and bite.

“How are you feeling?” Jimin’s gentle inquiry envelops you like a warm embrace, his eyes brimming with genuine concern and a flicker of something deeper, stirring a flutter of desire in the pit of your stomach.

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the refreshing gulp of water as you tilt the bottle to your lips. “My ass might be protesting a bit,” you admit with a grin, “but I’m holding up just fine.”

His laughter rumbles through the air, deep and rich, setting off a cascade of warmth in your chest. As you nibble on your food, you find yourself drawn into his orbit, the rest of the world fading into the background. In that moment, it’s just you and Jimin, lost in your own little universe.

With satisfied bellies and renewed spirits, you mount your horses once more, urging them into a swift gallop that carries you over hills and across vast stretches of open land towards the waiting cattle. The wind whips through your hair, and the rhythm of your horse’s hooves against the earth is like a steady drumbeat propelling you forward.

As the sky transforms into a mesmerizing palette of pinks and purples, resembling a scene straight from your own paintings back home, you can’t help but marvel at nature’s artistry. Despite the long hours in the saddle and the fact that your ass is sore as hell, your determination fuels your journey, and at last, you catch sight of the cattle grazing on the horizon. Relief washes over you like a gentle breeze, a welcome respite after a long day’s journey in the saddle.

With the sun dipping low and casting long shadows, Jessi’s voice cuts through the rustle of hooves and the low murmurs of the cattle. “That’s it for today. We’ll set up camp and drive them back tomorrow,” she announces firmly, reining Cinnamon to a halt near the herd before dismounting gracefully. Her words signal the end of the day's journey, a welcome respite from the endless expanse of the range. As she steps down, the rest of the group follows suit, each rider swinging their legs over their horses and joining her on solid ground.

Unrolling your sleep mat and spreading out your blanket, you relish the freedom of sleeping beneath the vast expanse of the open sky. Tents seem suffocating in this sweltering heat, offering little respite from the relentless sun. Out here, under the celestial canopy, you feel a connection to the land and the stars above, finding solace in the simplicity of nature’s embrace.

Nestling your sleeping mat beside Jimin’s, you relish the closeness, finding comfort in the warmth of your boyfriend. Nearby, the others spread out their mats, creating a sense of friendship beneath the sprawling sky. Jungkook and your sister, too, opt for closeness, aligning their mats side by side, fostering bonds in the quietude of the outdoors.

Your group settles in for dinner, and Soo-ah interjects with a playful yet stern warning, her laughter echoing through the gathering. “If I hear so much as a moan from any of you guys,” she jests, brandishing her flashlight like a beacon of authority, “I’ll expose you with my flashlight!” Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she scans the circle, her tone a blend of admonition and amusement.

“I swear on every star in this sky, I would never do that!” You practically shriek, your voice rising in horror, eliciting a hearty laugh from Jimin beside you. His touch on the small of your back sends a wave of warmth through you, grounding and reassuring as you banter with the group.

Soo-ah’s stare pierces through the playful banter, her eyes holding a hint of mischief and warning. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she says with a sternness that cuts through the laughter.

Her gaze shifts to Jungkook and your sister, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes, and suddenly they both burst into laughter, their voices echoing in the evening air like a chorus of mischief.

“He totally doesn’t have any problem with public indecency!” Soo-ah playfully accuses, her finger jabbing in Jungkook's direction amidst his relentless laughter, echoed by your sister’s giggles.

“I’m sorry. I’ll keep it in my pants,” Jungkook quips, his laughter infectious as you share a playful eye roll with your sister. The idea of anything intimate happening out here in the open under the stars, right next to your friends, feels more gross than enticing. No thank you.

Amidst the laughter and banter, you all finish your meal, casting playful glances at Jungkook, who feigns innocence with a grin. With the sky now a canvas of darkness, sprinkled with the brilliance of a thousand stars, you prepare to surrender to the embrace of sleep, a well-earned respite under nature’s celestial canopy.

You glance around, and you notice the girls forming their own cozy enclave, their mats nestled together, sharing whispered secrets and giggles. Yoongi and Hoseok, not too far away, seem to have formed their own pact, their mats positioned snugly side by side. With a gentle distance between each group, the night air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation and friendship. Your sister and Jungkook have already settled down, their figures outlined by the fading light. You shift your focus to Jimin, his presence beside you a comforting anchor amidst the quietude of the night.

You chuckle softly, meeting his expectant gaze as his crooked grin lights up his face. “No funny business,” you playfully jab a finger at his chest, a smile dancing on your lips, the warmth between you palpable in the starlit night.

He chuckles softly before leaning in to kiss you, his lips full of desire, love, and a hint of the roses that aren’t even nearby. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a familiar fire within you. But the reality of your surroundings pulls you back; you’re outside, among friends and family. With a reluctant sigh, you pull away, planting a tender kiss on his cheek before turning around, inviting him to spoon you under the canopy of stars.

You nestle deeper into his embrace, playfully wiggling your hips against his, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. You sense the subtle response of his body against yours, his dick twitching against your ass. His arms envelop you, drawing you close, and you relish in the warmth of his embrace. As his head finds its place in the curve of your neck, you’re enveloped in the comforting scent of his presence, his breath a gentle caress against your skin. A sense of security washes over you as he wraps a leg around your hips, pulling you into an intimate embrace that speaks volumes of love and care.

You drift into slumber cradled in Jimin’s arms, his steady breaths a comforting lullaby against your ear, sending gentle shivers down your spine with each warm exhale.

As consciousness gradually returns, you blink away the remnants of sleep, greeted by the sight of Yoongi and Hoseok nearby, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of dawn.

“Morning,” Yoongi greets you, a weary smile gracing his lips as he waves a hand in your direction, his silver locks tousled from a night spent under the stars. With a hint of fatigue in his eyes, he absentmindedly runs his fingers through his hair. Hoseok follows suit with a wave, attempting to suppress a yawn behind his hand, signaling the slow transition from sleep to wakefulness.

The girls stir from their slumber, and you glance over to catch your sister and Jungkook sharing soft laughter, still nestled in their blankets. Returning your focus to your boyfriend, a fond smile tugs at your lips as you watch him peacefully asleep, admiring the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with each steady breath.

With a stretch and a yawn, your sister breaks the morning silence. “Morning, everyone. Let’s grab some breakfast and get to it,” she suggests, her voice carrying a hint of determination.

You nod in agreement, your focus shifting to the still-sleeping Jimin beside you. Gently, you lay a hand on his chest, giving him a soft nudge, urging him to wake up and join the day’s activities.

He slowly stirs beneath you, his eyes fluttering open, he greets you with a warm, sleep-laden smile. “What’s up, love?”

With a tender smile, your cheeks tinged with a hint of pink, you reply, “We have to get to work, but food first.”

He rises from his slumber, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the sun-drenched landscape, basking in the warmth of the morning sun.

Amidst fatigue, you rally, rummaging through your saddle bags to retrieve the sustenance you stashed away. With weariness tugging at your limbs, you replenish your energy reserves, fortifying yourself for the task ahead: herding the cattle back home.

Swiftly devouring your meal, you swiftly equip your horses once more, preparing for the labor ahead. With practiced efficiency, you and your friends align, forming a protective barrier around the cattle, guiding them homeward with a synchronized grace.

As you ride alongside Jimin, your eyes playfully dart towards each other, sharing secret smiles amidst the task at hand. A gentle chuckle escapes your lips as you catch sight of Yoongi up ahead, with Soo-ah accompanying him, their friendship evident even from a distance.

“I need to have a word with Yoongi. I’ll be back in a moment,” you inform Jimin, urging your horse forward to catch up with Yoongi. As you draw near, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a welcoming smile gracing his lips, signaling his readiness to listen.

“Hey there,” you greet them with a chuckle, offering a nod to both Yoongi and Soo-ah.

“You just couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” He teases with a laugh, his tone carrying a playful undertone.

“Nope, couldn’t wait a second longer,” you reply with a grin, your curiosity piqued. “So, spill it. How did the date go?” You flash a knowing smile, eager for all the juicy details, your excitement barely contained.

As his laughter fills the air, you catch the subtle shift of Soo-ah’s attention, her gaze now fixed on your exchange, her curiosity piqued by the laughter.

“It went well. We have another date next week,” he replies, his smile adorned with a hint of bashfulness, the faint flush on his cheeks betraying his otherwise cool demeanor.

“I knew it. I knew Hoseok liked you!” You exclaim gleefully, punctuating your words with a playful smack on his arm, teasing him with a grin. Soo-ah, beside Yoongi, appears taken aback by the sudden revelation.

“Hoseok?” Soo-ah’s voice wavers, tinged with a hint of sadness. It hits you like a ton of bricks — fuck, you'd forgotten that she harbored feelings for him too.

“Wait, you went on a date with Hoseok?” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with disbelief, her tone laced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

Yoongi simply nods, his expression weary, as if he’s exhausted from the weight of hiding his emotions for so long.

Soo-ah’s shoulders sag with disappointment, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. However, her expression quickly shifts, and she manages to muster a bright smile for Yoongi. “Well, I’m genuinely happy for you,” she says, her voice masking any hint of her inner turmoil.

“Any details you want to share?” You prod, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you nudge him playfully.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it was pretty tame. Just dinner and a beer, nothing juicy to share,” he replies with a grin.

You chuckle softly, noticing the subtle blush coloring his cheeks. Despite his reluctance to share, you offer a supportive nod, respecting his privacy. After all, some stories are meant to be savored in silence.

“I’ll head back to Jimin,” you announce with a grin, earning a playful eye roll from Yoongi, accompanied by his laughter.

You bring Mikrokosmos to a stop, patiently waiting for Jimin to catch up. As he approaches, his hand instinctively seeks yours, and he leans in, stealing a swift yet tender kiss.

“Yoongi told me his date with Hoseok went good,” you share with a wide grin, still basking in the lingering sweetness of Jimin’s kiss.

His voice filled with a tender mix of love and adoration, he asks, “Hm. That’s good. Do you want to go on a date with me next week?” Your heart swells as you can’t help but smile, nodding your head eagerly.

“Yes, of course.”

“What’s all this about a date?” Jungkook suddenly appears beside you, causing you to chuckle at his unexpected arrival.

“How about a double date at our place?” Jungkook suggests, his smirk stretching wide across his face. You roll your eyes at his typical suggestion, knowing that he’s always one for a group outing. It’s not that you’re opposed to the idea of a double date; it’s just that you were hoping for some alone time with Jimin.

Jimin remains silent, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your reaction, his gaze a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, silently urging you to respond.

“Alright, we’re in,” you agree, albeit reluctantly, to Jungkook’s proposal, offering a small smile that masks your slight disappointment at the change of plans. Nevertheless, you reassure yourself that it might turn out to be enjoyable after all.

“Cool, I’ll tell Jessi,” he remarks with a grin before trotting off toward Jessi, who’s leading the cattle atop Cinnamon, their faithful horse.

You spend the ride beside Jimin, hand in hand, lost in each other’s company until the midday sun prompts a well-deserved break for nourishment. Time flies by, and soon you find yourselves back on Mikrokosmos, herding the cattle homeward once more, the day slipping away in the rhythm of hoofbeats and love.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find a spot close to a lake to set up camp once more. Dinner is shared, laughter exchanged, and as night falls, you nestle into Jimin’s warm embrace, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful slumber.

The morning light filters through the trees, illuminating the campsite, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jimin’s tousled blonde locks, wild and carefree. Your heart dances at the sight, and a tender smile graces your lips as you admire his peaceful slumber. Unable to resist, you lean down and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, eliciting a soft, contented murmur from him. “Wake up, Jiminie,” you whisper, your voice laced with affection, coaxing him from his dreams.

His eyelids flutter open, and he rubs them gently, allowing the golden rays of the morning sun to filter through and illuminate his irises like shards of amber. Slowly, his gaze shifts, finding you amidst the soft glow of dawn.

“Morning, my love,” he murmurs, lifting himself to meet your lips in a tender embrace, the warmth of his affection melting away the remnants of sleep.

“Morning, babe,” you reply, returning his kiss with equal fervor. Laughter from behind catches your attention, and you glance over to see the girls teasingly sticking out their tongues, playfully mocking your affectionate display. Ignoring their antics, you smirk and pull Jimin in for another kiss, this time with an added hunger, relishing in the closeness you share.

As you part for a breath of air, your sister strolls past, offering a cheerful good morning and casually grabbing some food from one of the saddlebags.

You stretch your arms, letting out a deep yawn. “I really need a shower,” you groan, feeling the stickiness of sweat and dust clinging to your skin after spending over a day in the same clothes. You have a spare set packed away, but it feels inadequate against the persistent grime that seems to have settled into your pores.

“I can fix you a shower,” Jungkook suddenly offers, and you turn your head to look at him in disbelief, surprised by his unexpected suggestion.

“I can make a makeshift shower over that tree. The lake is just over there, so it’s easy to grab water from there,” Jungkook explains casually, his suggestion igniting a spark of excitement in your eyes. You notice the girls also showing interest in the idea, their curiosity piqued by Jungkook’s proposal.

“Count me in too,” Ara chimes in eagerly, stretching her arms over her body as if to emphasize her desire for a refreshing shower.

“Awesome, leave it to me,” Jungkook declares, rising from his sleeping mat with purpose. He swiftly dresses himself and strides over to the nearby tree, where he begins fashioning a makeshift shower using nothing but rope and a tarp, his movements confident and efficient.

After nearly half an hour of focused effort, Jungkook completes the makeshift shower. Its walls are ingeniously constructed from tarp, creating a semblance of privacy amidst the wilderness. The crowning achievement is a homemade bottle with a spraying function rigged overhead—an unexpected touch of luxury in the great outdoors. You can practically feel the anticipation bubbling within you, yearning to shed the grime from your skin beneath the revitalizing cascade of water.

“Done,” Jungkook declares triumphantly, the sound of his hands coming together echoing through the tranquil air as he strides back to join the rest of the group.

“I’ve got first dibs!” You exclaim eagerly, springing to your feet and darting towards the makeshift shower. With a swift motion, you shed your clothes, tossing them aside without a second thought. As you glance around, a moment of uncertainty washes over you, pondering the logistics of obtaining water for your much-needed shower.

“Need water?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the air, his hands deftly carrying a brimming bucket that he expertly empties into the makeshift shower's overhead spray. The frigid cascade catches you by surprise, eliciting a startled shriek as the chilly droplets dance across your skin. Yet, amidst the shock, there’s an immediate sensation of refreshment as the cleansing streams wash away the grime, leaving you feeling revitalized and invigorated.

Jimin’s laughter fills the air, warm and inviting.

“Mind if I join?” He teases, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he edges closer to the makeshift shower.

With a coy smile, you welcome Jimin into the makeshift shower, relishing the warmth of his gaze on your bare skin. As you part the tarp to invite him in, his eyes flicker with desire, and he sheds his boxers without hesitation.

As the water envelops both of you, your arms wrap around his waist, drawing him nearer. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, igniting a passionate flame within you. Your bodies meld together seamlessly, your curves pressing against his firm form, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins.

You sense the growing hardness of his dick with each kiss, sending a surge of desire coursing through you. Your fingers itch to explore him, to feel him completely. A soft moan escapes your lips, mingling with a playful chuckle, as the intensity between you builds with each passing moment.

“We can hear you, and we can also see your legs,” Soo-ah’s playful voice interrupts, snapping you both back to reality. You share a knowing chuckle with Jimin, exchanging soft glances as her words burst your intimate bubble.

“Sorry!” You giggle, the lingering cold of the shower contrasting with the warm breeze on your skin as you step out, reaching for the towels Jimin has laid out on the grass. With a shared smile, you both quickly dry off, the urgency fueled by the anticipation of the day ahead, and eagerly slip into fresh clothes.

As the rest of the gang takes their turn in the makeshift shower, you all gather around to enjoy a quick meal before gearing up once more, ready to mount your horses and continue your journey.

You and Jimin reclaim the rear position, and you deliberately allow your horses to amble along, relishing the chance to intertwine your fingers while riding. His touch is reassuringly warm, his grip firm yet gentle, each calloused fingertip igniting a trail of desire along your skin, teasing your imagination with the countless ways he could use those hands to explore your body’s every curve and contour.

Despite the lingering soreness in your ass from the cattle muster, you eagerly swing onto Mikrokosmos’s back, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you urge her into a spirited gallop toward Bell Ranch.

As the relentless heat of summer refuses to bid farewell, the sun’s gentle embrace envelops your skin, warming you as Mikrokosmos dashes freely across the undulating hills, her hooves kicking up dust in her wake.

You guide Mikrokosmos into the yard with a sense of exhilaration, her powerful strides carrying you effortlessly forward. As you approach, your eyes fixate on Jimin, completely absorbed in his task within the barn where they store their heavy machinery. There he is, amidst the rustic charm, skillfully maneuvering the circular wood cutting machine wearing a white tank top and jeans, each motion a testament to his craftsmanship and dedication.

You rein in Mikrokosmos, bringing her to a graceful halt, and swiftly dismount, securing her reins to a nearby post. With purposeful steps, you make your way across the yard, drawn like a magnet to Jimin’s industrious figure within the barn’s dim confines.

You step into the barn, silently observing Jimin as he remains absorbed in his task, oblivious to your arrival. Beads of sweat glisten on his honey-toned skin, tracing a path down his taut muscles, each drop a testament to his exertion. His movements are fluid, almost mesmerizing, as he deftly handles the wood, cutting with precision and ease. With each motion, you find yourself drawn deeper into his world, captivated by the rhythm of his work and the raw strength he exudes. With a deft hand, he seizes a piece of wood, his movements graceful yet powerful as he guides it to the cutting blade. With a swift and practiced motion, he slices through the wood, the sound of the machine blending with the rhythm of his actions. Discarding the finished piece, he seamlessly transitions to the next, the cycle repeating in an entrancing dance of productivity and precision.

As you approach him, his focus shifts from the task at hand to your presence, his head lifting abruptly to meet your gaze. In an instant, his expression softens, a warm smile spreading across his face, like the sun breaking through clouds. With a click, he switches off the wood cutter, his attention now fully on you.

“Hi, babe,” he greets, his voice a soft melody that reaches you even before your arms encircle him. Drawing near, you feel the warmth of his embrace, pressing your cheek against his shoulder and collarbones, inhaling deeply, the musky scent of him enveloping you, stirring something deep within.

His tank top clings damply to his skin, evidence of his hard work, but you pay it no mind, only seeking to hold him closer against you, craving the comfort and intimacy of his embrace.

“Hi, love,” you whisper, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering at the sight of his deep, soulful brown eyes—fuck, you’ll never get enough of those. Each glance a magnetic pull, drawing you in deeper with every heartbeat.

He leans in, his lips tenderly meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss that ignites a fire within you, every touch of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. As he pulls back ever so slightly, you let out a soft moan of contentment, the taste of him still lingering on your lips. With a gentle touch, he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth that speaks volumes without a single word.

“What are you doing here?” His voice carries a note of curiosity as he brushes away another stray lock of hair, eliciting a soft chuckle from you as his fingertips dance lightly across your skin, sending delightful tingles down your spine.

“I just came to see how you’re doing,” you tease, punctuating your words with a playful tongue poke, earning a smirk from him in return.

“You could have just called, you know,” he chuckles, stepping back from your embrace and reaching for another piece of wood, his grin playful yet warm, inviting you into his world of labor and laughter.

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you, dummy,” you retort, sticking your tongue out again, your playful banter punctuated by a mischievous grin. Jimin, with a smirk dancing on his lips, saunters over to you, his gaze locking onto yours, and as he nears, he moistens his lips in anticipation.

“Did you just call me ‘dummy’?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement, one eyebrow arching in playful disbelief as he stands mere inches from you, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate closeness that sends another shiver down your spine.

You nod your head, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you tease him further, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip in a playful gesture, daring him to respond.

He groans softly, his hands finding your hips before boldly trailing down your back, his fingers gripping your ass firmly. “Sweetheart, do I need to teach you a lesson on manners?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm breath sending delightful shivers down your spine, a rush of desire flooding through you, making your panties damp with lust. Fuck.

You bite down on your lip, attempting to stifle a moan, but it escapes nonetheless, betraying the intense desire coursing through you. Jimin’s chuckle only adds fuel to the fire, and as he withdraws from your trembling figure, you’re left practically quivering with need. Damn it, you want him so badly that your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of trembling apart.

“But not now. I’m working,” he adds, and you feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, visible even in the slight slump of your shoulders. When he notices, a chuckle escapes him, softening the blow of his refusal with his infectious laughter.

“I’m building a new shed to store more wood outside. You can help if you want, or I could teach you how to do it?” He offers, a glint of excitement in his eyes, eager to share his passion with you and maybe steal a few moments of closeness amidst the work.

You’ve never built anything like that, and the thought of handling power tools sends a thrill of nervous excitement down your spine. The challenge looms large, but so does the opportunity to learn and share this experience with Jimin. It’s a leap into the unknown, but one you’re willing to take.

“You don’t have to,” he reassures you, his focus shifting back to the piece of wood he’s positioned in front of the cutter. You observe intently as he maneuvers the machine with practiced precision, the rhythmic hum of the cutter filling the air, the noise is loud, but not deafening. With each measured movement, he effortlessly shapes the wood, a testament to his skill and familiarity with the task at hand. As the newly cut piece falls to the ground, he seamlessly transitions to the next, measuring and drawing a cutting line, and methodically repeating the process. Despite the noise, it's a symphony of craftsmanship, captivating you in its symmetrical dance of creation.

As you watch him work, a sense of admiration washes over you. His movements, though skilled, seem approachable, almost inviting. You find yourself considering the possibility of trying your hand at it too. After all, he did offer to show you the ropes, and the task appears deceptively simple. Perhaps it's time to step out of your comfort zone and give it a shot.

“I wanna try,” you announce as he reaches for another piece of wood. His smile widens, and with a playful glint in his eye, he retrieves something from his back pocket.

“Here, put these on,” he says, offering you a pair of light blue working gloves. You slip them on, feeling a sense of readiness as you prepare to tackle the task ahead, your hands now shielded from the rough wood.

With a gentle yet firm grip on your hips, he guides you to stand in front of him and positions you facing the wood cutting machine, strategically placed atop a trailer.

With his warm, perspiring body pressed against your back, your heart races at the proximity, urging you to concentrate. Keep your mind on the task at hand, you remind yourself, feeling the electric charge between you intensify with every passing moment. Fucking focus!

“See, I’ve already drawn the cutting line,” he explains, guiding your hands to rest firmly on either side of the wooden plank. His touch is reassuring, his voice steady as he ensures each step is understood. “Place your hands here and here,” he continues, his fingers gently aligning yours with precision, emphasizing the importance of proper positioning for a precise and level cut.

His warm breath tickles your neck, sending shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery desire within you. His closeness is intoxicating, drawing you further into the moment as he instructs you on the next steps. “Then,” he murmurs softly, his voice sending ripples of anticipation through you, “lift your right hand from the wood, place it on the machine, and push in those two buttons.”

You shoot him a quizzical glance, uncertain if you’re meant to activate the machine at this moment. His gaze meets yours, reassuring and confident, urging you to trust in the process.

“Go ahead,” he encourages, his voice a gentle nudge to embolden your actions. You tentatively raise your hand, fingers hovering over the buttons as you absorb his instructions. With a steady resolve, you press both buttons simultaneously, unleashing the machine’s mechanical symphony. The blade whirls into action with a powerful hum, its motion mirroring the adrenaline coursing through your veins. In that moment, you’re not just operating a machine; you're wielding a newfound sense of capability and strength. As you release the buttons, the machine obediently falls silent, echoing the ebb of your exhilaration.

“Wow, that was fun,” you exclaim, your voice infused with a newfound zest. The rush of operating the machine courses through your veins, leaving you feeling invigorated and empowered.

“Try cutting the wood then,” he whispers in your ear, his hands still gently resting on your hips. With a determined nod, you place your hand back on the machine’s handlebar, feeling a surge of confidence. You press the buttons to activate the machine, and then, with a steady hand, you guide the blade down into the piece of wood, slicing through it effortlessly.

Amidst the noisy whirl of the blade slicing through the wood, you maintain focus, feeling a thrill as the machine swiftly does its work. With unpracticed precision, you raise the blade back up, releasing the buttons as the machine powers down, leaving behind a cleanly cut piece of wood.

“I did it!” You exclaim triumphantly, spinning around, your heart dancing with the joy of your small victory. Jimin doesn’t hesitate; he pulls you close, his kiss both fervent and hungry, brimming with unbridled passion. His tongue intertwines with yours, igniting a fiery dance that sweeps you away, your body yielding to his tender embrace.

He then draws back, fixing you with an intense gaze that sends a surge of electricity through your veins. “Fuck. My girlfriend is hot,” he breathes out, his words laced with raw desire.

You chuckle softly, feeling the warmth of his lips pressing urgently against yours, his hands guiding you back against the trailer. With a gentle thud, the piece of wood falls to the ground behind you, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“You’re distracting me,” he chuckles, his lips still grazing yours as he tries to steal more kisses, his desire evident in the urgency of his touch.

You chuckle, feeling lightheaded and dizzy with love, “My bad,” you reply, unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face.

You pull away from him, a spark of determination lighting up your eyes, “Mind if I give it another shot?”

He chuckles softly, stepping aside to let you take the lead. You position yourself in front of the machine, eager to try again. As you secure a new piece of wood, you reach for the ruler, a glint of determination in your eyes. “Any specific length for this one?”

“250 centimeters,” he replies, his hands finding their place on your hips once more, offering both guidance and support. With a pencil in hand, you prepare to mark the wood, a shared moment of collaboration and trust unfolding between you.

With meticulous care, you measure and mark the wood, ensuring precision with each stroke of the pencil. Placing the piece under the blade, aligning it precisely with the drawn line, you're poised for a flawless cut, a testament to your growing confidence and skill.

With a firm grip, you engage the machine, its hum filling the air as the blade descends upon the wood with controlled force. A surge of exhilaration courses through you, an electric thrill as you master the machinery. Discarding the severed wood, your gaze finds Jimin, his eyes reflecting admiration and pride in your newfound prowess.

His lips find yours again, igniting a fiery hunger that blazes between you. In the heat of the moment, your senses heighten, and you feel the undeniable urgency in his kiss. As you deepen the embrace, your attention is drawn to the subtle bulge pressing against his pants.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes flickering open with a mix of frustration and desire. A frustrated hiss escapes his lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, a telltale sign of his inner turmoil. “I can’t focus on work when you look this fucking sexy while handling power tools,” he admits, his voice laden with longing and a hint of exasperation.

You burst out laughing, unable to contain the warmth that floods your cheeks at his compliment. “Me? Sexy?” you tease, though his words ignite a flutter of excitement within you. Without hesitation, you pounce on him, straddling his waist, and eagerly capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, the intensity of your desire palpable in the air.

He embraces you fiercely, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. Every touch, every kiss, ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes your thoughts. You ache for him with an intensity that borders on desperation, fuck, you just want him so fucking bad.

“You know this is dangerous, right?” His words cut through the haze of desire, injecting a note of caution into the charged atmosphere. Confusion clouds your features as you meet his gaze, searching for understanding in the depths of his eyes.

“For me. Watching you work. It’s better if I work and you watch me. You can hand me wood,” his words carry a hint of playful warning, a reminder of the tantalizing allure between you, tempered by the practicality of safety. His touch, firm yet tender, ignites a playful spark as he teases, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass and giving it a soft squeeze, eliciting a laugh from deep within you.

You mull over his words, acknowledging the undeniable heat between you, the pulsing reminder of his erection against your pussy. It's a tantalizing distraction, one that could compromise the task at hand. Yet, a mischievous thought flits through your mind—perhaps a break wouldn’t hurt, a stolen moment to quench the fiery desire that simmers between you.

“Sounds like a good idea. But don’t you think you deserve a break?” You tease, puckering your lips and fluttering your lashes, a playful pout softening your features. His laughter ripples through the air, but beneath it, you sense his internal tug-of-war, caught between yielding to temptation and persevering with the task at hand.

“Babe, I really want to take a break, but I really need to get this done,” he confesses, his eyes holding a hint of regret, yet his smile remains as radiant as ever. Unable to resist, you lean in, your lips seeking solace in the warmth of his, a silent reassurance of your unwavering support amidst his obligations.

Somewhat disappointed, yet empathetic, you release a soft sigh. “I understand. I can always ravish you later. Let me lend a hand with the wood. Perhaps we’ll finish faster that way, right?” You offer with a playful grin, eager to ease his burden while secretly anticipating the reward awaiting you both.

“Yeah, thank you,” he murmurs appreciatively as you hop down from his waist, returning to your position behind Jimin to assist with the wood. A twinge of sadness pricks at your heart, knowing he’s pushing through his arousal, but you respect his decision nonetheless.

You two make a seamless team, with you swiftly grabbing pieces of wood for him, Jimin expertly measuring and cutting, and then passing the cut wood to you. This rhythmic dance continues until every plank is neatly sliced, a testament to your combined effort and harmony.

Exhaling with a mix of exhaustion and amusement, you reach for Jimin’s water bottle resting on a nearby bench, taking grateful swigs of the refreshing liquid. “Phew, this is hard work,” you chuckle, wiping the sweat from your brow as you catch your breath.

Jimin’s laughter resonates beside you, his eyes dancing with lust and amusement as he observes a few stray water droplets trickling down your throat, bypassing your eager lips.

“Now I get why you’re so muscular,” you remark with a playful chuckle, reaching out to give his taut biceps a playful squeeze.

His laughter fills the air, infectious and heartwarming, much like the man himself.

As the dust kicks up behind you, you’re grateful for Jimin’s company on this journey to the auction to buy new cattle. Though the cattle aren’t his, he’s by your side, sharing in the excitement and anticipation. You navigate the rented cattle truck together with Jimin at the wheel, the road stretching out before you.

“Do you know what kind of cattle you want to buy?” Jimin’s question cuts through the rumble of the truck’s engine, his eyes fixed ahead on the dusty road, but his attention fully on you.

“I’ve got this note from Jessi,” you confess with a chuckle, glancing at the scribbled instructions in your hand. “Honestly, I’m clueless about cattle, so I’m just sticking to this note.” As the trees blur past, a plume of smoke billows from the hood of the truck, and you shoot Jimin a concerned look. “Uh-oh. That can’t be good.”

The truck hiccups and sputters, its engine protesting with a throaty growl, while tendrils of smoke dance across the windshield, blurring your vision like ominous shadows creeping in.

Jimin’s frustration echoes in his groan as he runs a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands like threads of worry. “The engine’s overheating,” he mutters, his voice tight with annoyance, as if he’s grappling with the machine's stubborn defiance.

You pivot towards Jimin, urgency creasing your brow. “Can you fix it? We can’t afford to miss the auction,” you implore, the weight of the situation pressing down on your words like an anvil.

“I’ll check the radiator fluid once the engine cools down,” Jimin replies, his tone laced with frustration as he guides the truck to the roadside and switches off the engine.

“Shouldn’t we pop the hood or something? Let some steam out?” You suggest, recalling scenes from movies where characters dealt with overheating engines. You wonder why he’s just sitting there, doing nothing.

He shakes his head firmly. “No, that’s a bad idea. The steam can scald you; it’s scorching hot. We’ll wait for the engine to cool down, then we can safely pop the hood and take a look,” he explains, his tone laced with concern for your safety.

“How long should we wait then?” You ask, turning your head to face him fully, a tinge of frustration creeping into your voice. The urgency of reaching the auction on time weighs heavily on your mind, each passing second feeling like a missed opportunity.

“Hmm. About 15 to 30 minutes,” he responds, reclining in the seat, resigned to the unavoidable wait as there’s nothing else to do but watch the clock tick away, each passing minute feeling like an eternity.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer to him. “I know what we can do while we wait,” you whisper seductively, your voice dripping with desire as you elongate your words, your eyes locking onto his with a mischievous glint, teasing him with a suggestive raise of your eyebrows.

He chuckles, his gaze already smoldering with desire as he licks his lips hungrily. Following suit, he unbuckles his seatbelt, his anticipation evident in the way his chest rises with each breath. Without hesitation, you climb over the center console, straddling his welcoming thighs. Settling onto one, you press your hands firmly onto his shoulders, locking eyes with him. With a subtle bite to your bottom lip, you release a soft moan, the heat between you palpable as you slowly roll your ass against his thigh.

He emits a low, primal grunt, his gaze a potent mix of adoration, love, and raw desire, his eyes already dilated to their fullest extent.

You press yourself against his thigh with increasing fervor, every movement accompanied by soft, needy sounds escaping your lips, lost in the sensation of seeking out friction and pleasure.

The sensation is exquisite, the fabric teasing your sensitive clit, igniting a primal need for more. Though you crave deeper intimacy, this slow burn is amazing, setting the stage for what’s to come. Your breaths grow ragged, consumed by desire as you lean in for a kiss. It’s a collision of passion, each touch lingering and heavy with longing. As you part for air, a glistening thread of saliva bridges the gap between you.

His gaze is a symphony of longing and adoration, a testament to his insatiable desire for you, mirrored in your own yearning for him. Each glance is a silent declaration of love— you can never get enough of each other.

You plunge into another fervent kiss, your lips melding with his as you continue to undulate your hips against his firm, commanding thigh. The sensation of his muscles flexing beneath you intensifies the already exquisite friction, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Fuck, this is heaven.

As you throw your head back in ecstasy, your breasts tantalizingly close to his face, a fervent cry escapes your lips, “Fuck, Jimin!”

His hands, once anchored on your hips, now explore the curves of your breasts, their warmth seeping through the fabric of your shirt. “Babe, you’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You moan unabashedly, surrendering to the urgent rhythm, each movement of your hips igniting a wildfire of sensation coursing through your body. With every grind against his thigh, you feel the tension coiling tighter within your core, a symphony of pleasure burning with each passionate roll.

You press your pussy down harder against his thigh, seeking deeper friction, every movement a testament to the raw desire pulsating between you. “Shit, Jimin,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need, “I love you.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and adoration as he observes the desperation etched across your face, your lips bitten in fervent desire. With each moan escaping your lips, you seek solace on his thigh, yearning for release. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin, and gently nips at the sensitive skin of your neck before soothing it with tender licks. Moving to your ear, he whispers in a voice husky with longing, “I love you too.”

As you grind against his thigh, he skillfully teases and caresses your breast, his touch igniting a fiery need within you. Each kiss is passionate, fervent, mirroring the intensity of your desire. Yet, despite the fervor, it’s not enough. You crave more, yearning for every sensation, every moment shared with him, consumed by an insatiable hunger for his touch.

With a flicker of determination, your fingers deftly navigate the clasp of your bra, releasing it with a satisfying click. Jimin’s eyes darken with desire as the fabric falls away, revealing the curves of your bare breasts. Eagerly, he pulls your bra down, his touch igniting sparks of electricity across your skin, before lifting your shirt to expose your naked form.

You tease him, pressing your breasts against his face, feeling the warmth of his breath as he exhales against your skin. With a bold move, he flicks his tongue out, tracing a delicate path along one of your erect nipples. The sensation sends a rush of heat coursing through your body, pooling at the bottom of your panties.

His lips envelop your nipple, creating a tantalizing sensation that ignites every nerve ending in your body. Meanwhile, his deft fingers caress and roll your other nipple, sending electric currents of pleasure coursing through you. The world around you blurs as desire consumes your senses, leaving you feeling feverish and desperate for more. Lost in the intoxicating haze of the moment, you grind your hips against his thigh, seeking greater friction and release. With a breathless moan, you call out his name, your voice laden with longing and desire.

“Jimin-ah!”

You feel so fucking wet and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve soaked through the denim of your pants. But in the heat of the moment, such concerns fade into insignificance, drowned out by the primal urge driving you to grind against him with increasing fervor.

Jimin’s groan vibrates against your chest, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. With a primal cry, you throw your head back, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of lust threatening to consume you, its intensity nearly palpable in the charged air between you.

Your breaths come in erratic bursts, your voice strained with the intensity of your arousal. “I’m so close,” you gasp, the words escaping between ragged breaths like a desperate plea for release.

His lips part from your breast with a soft, wet sound, only to enclose around the other nipple, his warmth enveloping you in a delicious sensation. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space.

With every roll of your hips, the coil tightens, drawing you closer to the edge until it finally snaps, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through your body.

As you press your core against his thigh, the warmth spreading, you feel the liquid of your orgasm staining your panties. Panting and frustrated, you huff, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Jimin releases your breast, urgency in his movements as he dives in for a kiss, his hands eagerly pulling your body closer to his, seeking deeper connection and intimacy.

“You’re breathtaking, my love. Watching you lose yourself like that—it’s pure magic,” he whispers, his gaze locked with yours as you catch your breath, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, a radiant glow emanating from your flushed skin.

With a playful grin, you trail your lips along his neck, leaving a mark of your passion on his warm skin. His laughter mixes with a soft hiss of pleasure, and when you draw back, a crimson imprint adorns his neck.

You lock eyes with him, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, “Jimin, I want to suck your dick.”

He rakes a hand through his tousled hair, a mix of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. You, with your tempting proposition, ignite a fire within him that he struggles to contain. With a bitten lip, he observes as you gracefully lower yourself into the cabin of the truck, the anticipation palpable in the air. It’s so spacious, so you have no trouble fitting down there.

You watch with a hungered gaze as he spreads his thighs invitingly, a silent invitation you’re more than eager to accept.

Your fingertips trace the contours of his thighs, feeling the tension beneath his skin, eliciting soft moans from his lips. Your eyes flicker downward, drawn irresistibly to the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

You tease him through the fabric, reveling in the way his body responds to your touch. With a sly grin playing on your lips, you deftly unbuckle his belt, eagerly anticipating the sight that lies beneath. As you unzip his pants, his form is revealed clad in sleek black boxers, igniting a primal desire within you. The hunger to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, intensifies with each passing moment, fueling your anticipation to devour him once more.

With a heated gaze, he eagerly lifts his hips, granting you easier access to unveil his eager cock. You swiftly guide both his pants and boxers down his strong thighs, all the way down to the floor of the truck.

You trace the contours of his scars with tender fingers, your voice barely above a whisper as you admire each mark etched into his skin. “Still so beautiful,” you murmur, your breath mingling with the heated air between you.

His dick springs to life, the head flushed red, proudly standing tall with veins tracing a map of desire on his creamy skin. You lick your lips in anticipation, locking eyes with him as you inch closer to his cock, your gaze ablaze with unmistakable lust.

You tease him with the tip of your tongue, while your hand wraps around the base of his dick. As your tongue makes contact with the sensitive head of his cock, a deep, guttural moan escapes his lips, his hands tangling in your hair, gripping you with urgency and desire.

With a lustful and mischievous glint in your eyes, you envelop him with your mouth, tracing circles around the sensitive head of his dick with your tongue. The taste of his precum teases your senses, urging you to take him deeper. Giving head isn’t usually your favorite, but there’s something undeniably alluring about Jimin’s cock—it’s not just his physical beauty, but the way he responds to your touch, igniting a fire within you that compels you to pleasure him with every ounce of your being.

You dive into your task with fervor, enveloping him with your warmth and intensity, all while maintaining an unwavering gaze that locks you in a fiery lust. His eyes, deep pools of desire, reflect back at you, almost black with longing, his breaths growing deep and quick as his fingers instinctively grasp at your hair, gently pulling you closer, urging you on in encouragement.

“Fuck. You’re so good, babe,” he hisses through gritted teeth as you create a delicious vacuum with your mouth, humming softly around him, each vibration sending electric waves down his spine, igniting a fire of pleasure that consumes him.

The sweet ache of his praise fuels you, igniting a fierce determination to please him even more, to push the boundaries of ecstasy and leave him breathless with desire.

With deft fingers, you caress his balls, feeling the twitch of his dick in your mouth, and god you love it. You love watching him like this.

With a satisfying pop, you release his dick, leaving Jimin breathless and utterly entranced as his gaze locks with yours, ablaze with an intensity that ignites your own desire. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, a tantalizing prelude to what's next as you eagerly plunge back down on his cock, lost in the electric rhythm of your desire.

With an insatiable hunger, you engulf him, channeling every ounce of your desire into each fervent suction, tracing delicate patterns with your tongue along his sensitive head, and on the slit, eliciting a symphony of shivers cascading down his body.

Despite the strain building in your jaw and the fatigue creeping into your muscles, your determination to please him fuels your every movement.

You sense the telltale signs of his impending release, the subtle twitching of his muscles, the urgent grip on your hair. “I don’t want to come yet,” he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation.

Responding to his plea, you halt your ministrations abruptly, withdrawing from him entirely, your tongue sweeping across your lips in anticipation of what’s to come.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that mirrors your own desire. The raw hunger in his gaze ignites a primal longing within you, an ache that only he can satisfy. Fuck, that’s what you want too.

With a sense of urgency, you maneuver within the confines of the cattle truck, swiftly shedding your pants and panties, casting them aside in a rush of desire.

“Fuck, Jimin, I want you to fuck me too,” you declare, your hands tenderly cradling his flushed cheeks as you settle back onto his lap, your pussy tantalizingly close to his cock.

You employ one hand to deftly guide his dick to your sobbing wet entrance, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine. With a deep breath, you lower yourself onto him, relishing the exquisite sensation of being filled as he too releases a throaty groan of ecstasy, captivated by the sight of you taking him in.

“Fuck,” you pant, your gaze fixated on the point where your bodies meld together, before shifting to meet Jimin’s gaze—his expression, a symphony of desire and ecstasy, ignites a primal hunger within you. Without hesitation, you plunge into a fervent kiss, pouring every ounce of longing and passion into the connection. As your lips mesh, you begin to undulate your hips, riding him with a rhythm born of pure sin, reveling in the exquisite sensation of his cock stretching you to the brink.

“You’re perfect, so good,” he pants, his words a raspy chorus of admiration and pleasure, his eyes tracing the elegant movements of your body with awe. “You’re taking me so well,” he adds, his voice strained with the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by your warm walls.

His praise reverberates through your core like a symphony, igniting every nerve ending and sending shivers of ecstasy down your spine. With each word, your inner walls contract around him, essentially hugging his dick tighter.

Your fingers trace the lines of his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, as if mapping the landscape of his body. Gripping his pecs, you find stability in his strength, grounding yourself in the heat of the moment.

Your breath quickens as you trail kisses along his neck, each bite leaving its mark. His moans fuel your desire, igniting a primal need within you. As he thrusts up into you, your bodies synchronize in a dance of pleasure, even though you’re beginning to feel tired.

Your voice trails off, a whisper against his skin as fatigue begins to weigh on your limbs. You lean into his warmth, seeking solace in his embrace. “Jimin,” you murmur again, your breath mingling with his, a plea for rest and intimacy intertwined.

As his fingers trace gentle patterns on your hips, you feel his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“What do you need, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet intimacy of the moment, his words a promise of comfort and understanding.

You lock eyes with him, your gaze filled with raw desire and an unmistakable urgency. “I want you to fuck me,” you confess, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and anticipation, your words a plea for him to consume you completely with his passion and desire.

A devilish smirk graces his lips as his hand trails up your spine, sending shivers of anticipation down your body.

“I am, baby,” he murmurs huskily, his voice dripping with promise, igniting a fire of desire that consumes you entirely.

You melt into his embrace, the heat of the moment fueling your desire. “Fuck me harder,” you breathe against his lips, your voice a sultry whisper laced with determination. “I won’t break.”

His chuckle sends a delicious shiver down your spine, the vibration echoing in every fiber of your being, igniting a wildfire of desire within you.

“Shit, okay,” he breathes, his voice a husky whisper that stirs the air around you. With a firm grip on your hips, he guides you down onto him, then surges up, driving into you with an intensity that steals your breath away. A deep, primal moan tears from your lips as he plunges deep inside, igniting a frenzy of sensation that leaves you gasping for more.

He continues, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, your head nestled against his shoulder as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his movements.

He breathes heavily against your ear, his voice a husky whisper as he drives into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a new wave of ecstasy.

“Like this?” He asks, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, yes!” You plead, your voice a needy whisper against his skin, your nails digging into his back as you arch into his every thrust.

With a low chuckle that resonates through your intertwined bodies, he drives into you with unrestrained fervor, each powerful thrust a testament to his primal desire, relishing the intoxicating blend of your scent and the tight embrace of your walls.

You’re lost in the moment, engulfed by the overwhelming pleasure he brings, his presence inside you sending ripples of ecstasy through every fiber of your being. The sensation of his cock sliding against your walls is pure bliss, akin to the smooth caress of silk.

As he continues to delve deep into you, each thrust ignites a wildfire of sensations, intensifying the pleasure building within. With each rhythmic motion, your body responds eagerly, the telltale signs of an impending climax looming ever closer.

With a longing gaze, you tilt your head, locking eyes with him in a silent exchange of desire. Without hesitation, you immerse yourself in another passionate kiss. The taste of him floods your senses, a tantalizing blend of minty freshness and the delicate essence of roses, leaving you intoxicated with longing.

“Jimin,” you gasp, unable to contain the impending wave of pleasure, “I’m gonna come.” His every thrust plunges you into a depth of sensation that sends shivers coursing through your entire being, curling your toes in exquisite anticipation.

“Come on my dick, baby,” Jimin’s voice rumbles with urgency, sending a surge of desire through your veins. With a primal hunger, he lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts again, and his mouth envelops your nipple, igniting a fiery response deep within you.

As you clench around him, a symphony of sensations reverberates through your core, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his chest.

With a few more primal thrusts into your eager pussy, you finally surrender to the electric ecstasy, releasing around him in a deluge of passion. Your liquid coats his dick, creating a slick and intoxicating friction that amplifies the intensity of the feeling of him inside you. The rhythmic collision of skin on skin fills the confined space of the truck, echoing like a symphony of desire. As the air thickens with raw anticipation, you find yourself gasping for breath.

As your body succumbs to the aftershocks of your orgasm, he continues his primal rhythm, holding you firmly by your hips, anchoring you to his powerful embrace even as you collapse against his unyielding frame.

“So fucking pretty,” his husky voice whispers in your ear, igniting a cascade of tingles down your spine, as you involuntarily clench around him once more, teetering on the edge of overstimulation from his intoxicating praise and relentless ministrations.

He releases your breasts, his lips finding solace on your neck, sinking into your flesh with a gentle bite, followed by the tender caress of his tongue. A guttural moan of his name escapes your lips, a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing in the confined space.

“I want you to fill me up, Jimin,” you whisper into his neck, your voice a delicate plea amid the haze of passion and exhaustion.

He responds with a low, guttural hum beneath you, driving into you with an intensity that surpasses anything before, each thrust echoing with a primal need, punctuated by his passionate moans.

You sense his breath quickening, a crescendo of desire matching the urgency of his thrusts. Feeling his movements intensify, you summon your last reserves of energy, rising to meet him with a determination born of desire. As you lock lips once more, then trail kisses down his neck, sinking your teeth in gently, he responds with a sharp hiss, a symphony of passion between you.

“Fuck!” His voice breaks with ecstasy as he calls out your name, surrendering to the waves of pleasure crashing over him. With each pulse of his release, he fills you with his warm seed, your teeth sinking into his neck as you share in his ecstasy. The sensation of him spilling into you sends shivers of satisfaction through your body, fulfilling a craving you’d longed for.

You both pant heavily, the truck filled with the sound of your ragged breaths as you continue to move yourself on him, savoring every lingering tremor of his climax. His spent dick still twitches inside you, a testament to the intensity of his release, fueling your desire to prolong the shared ecstasy.

“Jimin—,” you gasp out his name, feeling the weight of his presence beneath you as you settle onto him, completely immobile, savoring the intimate connection. He responds with a low moan, his lips finding your cheek in a tender kiss, his hand tracing soothing circles down your spine, reassuring and comforting.

Gradually, you feel him soften inside you, a gentle ebb of warmth as his essence melds with yours, mingling intimately. Sensations ripple through you as your own liquid trickles down, probably trailing down to his balls and the seat.

He catches his breath, his gaze lingering on your satisfied expression before diving in to claim your lips. The kiss is fervent, filled with a hunger born from the depths of desire.

You draw back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you behold the canvas of his neck, now adorned with the marks of your affection.

His chuckle mingles with the remnants of heavy breaths, a playful glint in his eyes as he meets your gaze, “What’s so amusing?”

“You’re a canvas of desire,” you murmur, tracing the love marks with your fingertips, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes, “And I couldn’t resist leaving my mark.”

But you feel sorry, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yours isn't any different, and I adore every mark you’ve left on me,” he reassures, his words wrapped in warmth as he leans in for another passionate kiss, sealing your love with unspoken desire.

You feel how he’s gone completely soft inside you and you recognize the need to return to reality — to the road ahead or the ailing truck waiting for attention. With a mixture of reluctance and responsibility, you extricate yourself from his embrace, retrieving your garments and draping them over your sated form before making your way back to your seat.

As Jimin hastily pulls up his boxers and pants, the urgency of the moment seems to dissipate, replaced by a shared gaze out the window. The swirling plumes of smoke that had once billowed ominously from the truck’s hood have now vanished, leaving behind a sense of relief.

“I’ll take a look at the engine,” he declares, leaping down from the truck with a determined air, muscles flexing as he pops open the hood. With practiced hands, he swiftly identifies the issue before returning to the cabin, his movements purposeful as he rummages for supplies. “It’s low on radiator fluid,” he announces upon finding the elusive bottle tucked behind the seats. Stepping back outside, he replenishes the tank with focused precision before securing the hood once more. Finally, he re-enters the truck, his expression a mix of satisfaction and determination.

“This should be enough to get us to the auction, then we’ll take it to a mechanic when we get home,” he reassures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and affection as he turns the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life under his expert touch.

“Cool,” you say, a smile playing on your lips as your hand finds purchase on his sturdy thigh, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch reassuring as he navigates the road ahead.

Jimin and Jungkook have been toiling away in their kitchen, conjuring up a tantalizing feast for you and your sister. As the aroma of their culinary efforts wafts through the air, you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. So far, this double date is shaping up to be quite the culinary adventure, you chuckle to yourself, eager to see what delights await.

You find yourself perched comfortably in a chair, positioned strategically in the heart of the bustling kitchen. From this vantage point, you observe with growing admiration as the brothers, Jimin and Jungkook, seamlessly collaborate, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Across from you sits Jessi, a fellow spectator to this culinary spectacle. Both Jimin and Jungkook insist that you take a seat and unwind, assuring you that they have everything under control as they labor over the stove, intent on crafting a memorable dinner for all.

Silence reigns in the kitchen, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of knives slicing through crisp vegetables, the gentle hiss of steam rising from pots on the stove, the tantalizing aroma of spices mingling in the air. With each passing moment, the symphony of culinary creation crescendos, from the sizzle of something tantalizing on the grill to the comforting hum of the oven at work. The scent wafting through the kitchen is nothing short of intoxicating, teasing your senses and igniting a fierce hunger within you. Anticipation mounts as you eagerly await the unveiling of the culinary masterpiece being crafted before your eyes, your stomach growling in eager agreement.

“Almost done, you can set up the table,” Jimin’s voice cuts through the bustling kitchen, the heat from the stove causing beads of sweat to glisten on his brow like tiny jewels. With determination etched on his face, he expertly tends to the simmering pots, his culinary prowess on full display. Acknowledging his command, you exchange a nod, your eyes alight with excitement as you and your sister swiftly move to prepare the table, gathering plates, glasses, and utensils with purposeful efficiency. Each clink of silverware against porcelain resonates with anticipation, a prelude to the feast that awaits.

As Jimin and Jungkook enter the room bearing platters of steaming, aromatic dishes, your anticipation peaks, heightened by the mouthwatering scents wafting from the kitchen. With the table meticulously set, every place arranged with care, you eagerly settle into your seat, the air buzzing with the promise of culinary delights.

You find yourself seated next to your sister, a comforting presence by your side as you engage in this delightful double date. Across the table, Jimin’s warm gaze meets yours, his eyes sparkling with shared excitement for the evening ahead. Jungkook’s presence beside your sister adds to the lively atmosphere, his easy going demeanor balancing the dynamic of the group.

You dine in a symphony of flavors, the tantalizing aromas wafting from the dishes crafted by the skilled hands of Jimin and Jungkook. Conversation takes a backseat to the feast laid before you, each bite a delicious revelation that dances on your taste buds. With every savory morsel, you find yourself drawn deeper into the culinary masterpiece, savoring each moment of culinary bliss crafted by the talented duo.

As the final bite of the delectable meal settles in your stomach, a satisfying fullness envelops you, as if the flavors will linger within you for days to come. With meticulous care, Jungkook and Jimin sweep away the remnants of the feast, gracefully tidying the table and expertly storing the remaining culinary treasures in containers, preserving the essence of the unforgettable meal they’ve crafted.

With a refreshing clink of glass, Jimin hands you a cold beer, his eyes sparkling with warmth as you exchange smiles. As you settle back into your seats at the table, the chilled beverages offer a welcome respite, inviting a relaxed atmosphere to linger a little longer in the company of good food and even better company.

“So how is it going with you and Jimin?” Jungkook’s question hangs in the air, laden with curiosity and a hint of playful mischief. You catch Jimin's gaze briefly before responding, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, the sound blending seamlessly with the warmth of the moment. Jimin’s hands reach out across the table, seeking yours, and as your fingers intertwine, a silent exchange of affection passes between you.

“Absolutely perfect,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his in a shared understanding that transcends words.

With a tender expression, Jimin’s lips curve into a gentle smile, radiating warmth that fills the room. In response, you tighten your grip on his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support and affection.

Turning your attention to Jungkook, you inquire with genuine curiosity, “And how about you? Is it getting serious between you two?”

Your sister’s laughter dances beside you, punctuating the air with warmth, while Jungkook’s sudden blush betrays a hidden truth, his gaze averted as though guarding a secret. It’s a departure from his usual confident demeanor. Eventually, it’s your sister who breaks the silence, her voice brimming with happiness, “It definitely is.”

It warms your heart to hear their confirmation. As you take a sip of your beer, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you, a silent question lingering in his eyes. There’s a tension in the air, a question begging to be asked, yet he remains silent, his thoughts concealed behind an enigmatic expression.

“Is there something on my face, babe?” You inquire playfully, your eyes meeting your boyfriend’s as he responds with a gentle chuckle.

“Ah, no. I was just thinking, since Kookie is heading over to your sister’s place, would you like to sleep over tonight?” he asks, shooting a playful scolding glance at Jungkook, who finally seems to snap out of whatever reverie had held him before.

He laughs heartily, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah. We won’t disturb you!”

A flush of warmth spreads across your cheeks as you chuckle softly. “I’d absolutely love that, Jimin.”

His smile widens, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love for you.

You savor the last sip of your beer, relishing the cold it brings as you enjoy the company of your boyfriend, Jungkook, and your sister. Laughter fills the room, weaving through conversations about everything under the sun. Surprisingly, this double date has been more than enjoyable—it’s been a blast. Yet, as the evening draws to a close and farewells are exchanged, anticipation bubbles within you. You can hardly wait to slip into Jimin’s embrace, where the night holds promises of passionate lovemaking until dawn.

Honestly, he really wanted to go to the city, because his girl deserves the best. Yet, here he is, strolling through the quaint streets of the local town, drawn to a shop unknown to him until now. He has never visited this shop before, but now that he has you, everything feels different, better— well, you’ve changed him, made him remember who he is, and now that you’re finally back where you belong, his soul feels complete. The depth of his love for you knows no bounds, a force so powerful it compels him to stand within the walls of the local jewelry store, seeking a symbol of eternity to adorn you with.

Navigating the unfamiliar terrain of the store, he feels like a lost puppy amidst a sea of glittering treasures. Just as he’s pondering his next move, the store lady, with an air of gentle curiosity, approaches him, her presence a beacon of guidance in this maze of possibilities. “Do you need any assistance?” she asks, her voice a soothing melody in the otherwise silent space.

“Yes,” he responds with a chuckle, a nervous energy dancing in his movements as he scratches his head, “I’m looking for the perfect ring for my girlfriend.”

The lady’s smile warms her entire face, her eyes sparkling with understanding. “Ah, of course,” she says gently, “I’d be delighted to assist you in finding the perfect ring for your girlfriend.”

She leads him to the grand displays adorned with a dazzling array of jewelry: rings of all styles, necklaces that shimmer like moonlit waves, earrings that sparkle like stars, and even tiaras fit for a queen.

As he gazes at the stunning array of jewelry, a wave of uncertainty washes over him. Panic begins to gnaw at his insides. Fuck, he realizes he doesn’t know your preferences, and the pressure mounts with each passing second.

“Do you know what she likes?” The lady asks, her voice gentle and understanding. He shakes his head, his brows knit with worry, feeling a pang of guilt for not knowing your preferences.

“You could always go with something classic,” she suggests, her fingers delicately gliding over the gleaming display of timeless engagement rings, each one whispering tales of everlasting love and devotion.

He doesn’t like what he sees; they seem way too classic and basic for you. The ring needs to encapsulate the depth of his undying love for you, to be as unique and extraordinary as you are to him. His gaze wanders across the display until something glimmers and grabs hold of his heartstrings.

A purple gem—amethyst, glinting in the store light, captivating him with its ethereal beauty.

That’s it.

That’s the one.

It feels almost magnetic, drawing him in, as if it's meant for you and you alone. The ring, delicate yet radiant, adorned with a single purple gem set in gold, seems to whisper your name. He’s certain you'll adore it. With unwavering determination, he points to the ring and declares, “That one.”

The lady’s smile widens as she retrieves a key from her pocket, unlocking the front of the glass display with a sense of excitement. “Do you know her ring size?” she asks, her voice brimming with anticipation.

As the store lady hands him the ring, he hears the gentle ding of the door, but he doesn't bother to turn around, his attention fully captured by the gleaming piece in his hand. Taking the ring delicately between his fingers, he turns it around, studying every detail with a mix of admiration and reverence.

It’s perfect. Just like you.

“Yeah,” he nods, retrieving a slip of paper from his pocket, on which a number is scrawled hastily. He hands it over to the store lady, a silent plea evident in his eyes.

She takes the slip of paper from him, her eyes scanning the number with a gentle smile. “We have this ring in her size out back, just a moment,” she assures him, disappearing momentarily into the depths of the store.

As he waits for the lady to retrieve the ring, he finds himself drawn deeper into the mesmerizing allure of the jewelry before him. Each facet of the ring seems to hold a story untold, its sparkle casting a spell that captivates his senses. Lost in contemplation, he feels a presence at his side, and without turning, he subtly shifts to make room, inviting the stranger to share in the enchantment of the display.

“Jimin?” Jessi’s voice cuts through the air, almost startling him as he stands there, the ring gleaming between his fingertips. Her wide-eyed astonishment mirrors his own, catching him off guard in the midst of his silent contemplation.

“What are you doing here?” The simultaneous inquiry from both him and Jessi fills the air, followed by a burst of laughter that breaks the tension.

“I’m picking up my earring that broke some weeks ago, you?” Jessi’s voice carries a curious undertone, her gaze still fixed on his face, searching for answers.

As her gaze travels downward and lands on the ring in his hand, Jessi’s eyes soften, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “Is that for my sister?” She asks, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and warmth, as if she already knows the answer but wants to hear it from him.

Just as the conversation with Jessi begins to deepen, the store lady returns, cradling a wooden box in her hands. “Here it is,” she announces, breaking the momentary silence with a gentle smile.

As the store lady passes the box to him, retrieving the ring from his grasp, her gaze flits between him and Jessi, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes, puzzled.

Jimin gingerly opens the box, unveiling a ring even more captivating than the one he had admired earlier in the display. Jessi leans in, her curiosity piqued, to steal a glance at the exquisite piece nestled within. “It’s stunning,” she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

Jimin’s voice carries a hint of uncertainty as he gazes at the ring, seeking reassurance from Jessi. “Do you think she’ll love it?” he asks, his nerves palpable despite his conviction that this ring is the perfect choice.

Jessi’s voice is filled with unwavering certainty as she nods emphatically. “Jimin, trust me. She’ll absolutely love it.”

A sense of urgency colors Jimin’s voice as he pivots to address Jessi directly, his eyes pleading for her understanding. “Promise me, Jess. You can’t breathe a word of this to your sister, okay?”

Her laughter dances in the air, but her promise is firm, wrapped in the sincerity of her smile. “I won’t say a thing,” she assures, her eyes glinting with mischief and excitement.

With anticipation coursing through his veins, he settles the transaction with the store lady, the weight of the ring box in his hand a tangible reminder of his love and commitment. Now, all that’s left is to orchestrate the perfect moment to present it to you, a moment he imagines with fervent hope and longing.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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patheticgirlsteve · 1 year

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Hihihihi!! so, i haven't written fic in like 3 years and also i've never written stranger things fic so keep that in mind if you read this, BUT i saw this post by @babyboymunson and i just had to write it!!

i was gonna write something short and just reblog it onto that post, but this ended up being 3k so. i did not do that. also i did not proof read this at all. ok bye i hope you enjoy

(this is on ao3 now!!)

Steve never used to have strong feelings in any direction, positive or negative, when it came to sleeping. He spent most of his life taking a good night’s sleep for granted, just like every other normal person would. And why shouldn’t he? He had no reason to think that he would ever find himself going days on end without sleeping for more than three hours at a time.

He never thought he’d be waking up screaming or sobbing (or both) because he had had yet another dream about his best friend getting tortured by Russians under the mall in their small town, about the kids he babysat (the kids he loved a ridiculous amount but would never admit to their faces) putting themselves in harms way to try to save the world yet again, about his… Well, about Eddie dying in Dustin’s arms as Dustin sobbed over him.

And hadn’t that been just another kick in the teeth, on top of everything else? His feelings for Eddie had hit him like a battering ram and at the worst possible moment. Realizing he was maybe a little bit (a lot) into Eddie Munson right after he had basically sacrificed himself to save Dustin had felt like when you’re blowing up a balloon and just when it’s almost full you give it one last puff, and it pops in your face and the snap of the rubber stings against your skin.

Steve honestly didn’t like to think about it. Everything had ended up working out, relatively speaking. The details didn’t matter much to him, everyone was alive and mostly whole, so who cared about the rest? Plus, he and Eddie had ended up with matching demobat scars, which Eddie said was metal.

(“Like Ozzy?” Steve had asked the first time Eddie had said it when Steve had been helping him replace his bandages after having been discharged from the hospital. He didn’t know much about metal, but he knew who Ozzy was. Kind of. Okay, not really, but he knew that Eddie thought he was a badass, which was what mattered to Steve.

“Yeah, sure, Stevie,” Eddie had laughed softly, with a smile that made the butterflies flutter in Steve’s stomach. “Like Ozzy.”

Steve had smiled weakly at Eddie, looking up from where he had been very carefully unwinding Eddie’s old bandages from his side.

“You know,” he had started slowly, wondering if he was about to make a mistake. But Eddie had been sat there on the bathroom counter in front of Steve, letting Steve help him, letting him see the real Eddie, the Eddie that wasn’t just for show. “I’ve never actually listened to Ozzy,”

Eddie had scoffed, “Yeah, I know, Harrington. We really need to work on your taste in music, it’s absolutely tragic.”

Steve had nodded and shrugged, hoping it came off as casual. “Okay, so teach me.”

Eddie had stared, mouth slightly open and eyes wide and shocked. “What?”

“Teach me,” Steve had said, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “You’ve got plenty of records and tapes, and we’ve got plenty of time. This is the perfect chance for you to teach me everything I need to know about Ozzy and Dio and the rest of those metal guys. Who knows, maybe you’ll convince me to become a metalhead like you.”

Eddie’s shocked expression had quickly turned into something much more gleeful and mischievous even as a slight blush had dusted his cheeks. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that, Harrington. I’m gonna educate the hell outta you!” He cackled, clearly already planning the perfect musical education curriculum in his head.

Steve had just smiled, thinking, No, I don’t think I’ll regret it at all.)

Steve always just nodded along with Eddie when he called their scars metal.

(Even after all of his music education lessons with Eddie, which had eventually devolved into makeout sessions with Iron Maiden blasting in the background, he hadn’t really gotten it. He knew why Eddie liked it, it was loud and expressive, just like he was, but it just wasn’t Steve’s taste. Eddie had sighed deeply and dramatically when Steve had told him this, but Steve knew it was just an act. They each had their own tastes, and that was fine. Even if Eddie still complained about having to listen to ABBA in Steve’s car.)

Steve liked having matching scars with Eddie, as fucked up as that might have been, but he felt it connected them profoundly, and they served as a reminder that it had been real and that they had survived. That they had made it out.

Sometimes, that reminder was more necessary than others. Like when the nightmares got the better of him, waking him in a frozen panicky fear after only a couple of hours asleep alone in his parent’s house, he would call Eddie.

(“You can always call me, Stevie, it’s not like I’m sleeping either, anyway.” Eddie had said over the phone, the first time Steve had called him in a panic at 3 am to make sure Eddie was really alive, that the nightmares weren’t real. “So you’re not gonna wake me up, and, even if you did, I wouldn’t care, anyway. I want you to call me, okay?”

Steve had nodded, before remembering that Eddie couldn’t see him nod over the phone. He was tired, okay?

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. I’ll call you,” Steve had whispered. “You know you can call me, too, right? When you can’t sleep either?”

Eddie had paused, and for a moment Steve had thought that maybe he was overstepping. Yeah, they were friends now, after everything, but maybe they weren’t that close. Maybe Steve had just been imagining the looks he thought Eddie was giving him when he thought Steve wasn’t looking. Maybe the lingering hands on his shoulders, his back, his arms when they were hanging out with the rest of their friends were nothing. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking, and Steve was messing up one of the two age-appropriate friendships that he had managed to create.

And then Eddie had said, sounding almost unsure, “Okay. We’ll take care of each other?” Steve had hated the way it sounded like a question.

“Yeah, Eds,” he had promised. “We’ll take care of each other.” )

And then Eddie would drive over to the Harrington’s house, pull Steve back to his bed in his room with the hideous plaid wallpaper that everyone loved to tease him about, and settle Steve against his bare chest (it was summer in Hawkins, and it was hot, okay?), and wrap his arms under Steve’s, breathing comfort into Steve’s hair as they fell asleep together, Steve cradled like something precious in Eddie's hold.

It felt safe, sleeping in Eddie’s arms, even before they got together. Being held made him feel small, sort of, but not in a bad way. It made him feel like, well, like he could rest for a moment, that he didn’t need to be the shield, the protector. He could just be Steve, asleep in his boyfriend’s arms, with Eddie’s scars lined up behind his own. He just felt safe.

Steve couldn’t remember the last person who made him feel so protected. He thinks maybe it’s only been Eddie.

Steve wonders sometimes if Eddie even knows how safe he makes Steve feel, when he holds him like that. He kind of thinks maybe Eddie does know, even though Steve has never managed to say it out loud. When they’re alone, Steve coming over to spend time with Eddie at the new government-funded trailer that he and Wayne have moved into, he would sit on his bed (and his new mattress, not stained, thank you very much) with his back against the headboard and his legs open wide enough for Steve to take his place in between them.

Steve loved when Eddie would wrap his arms around him, letting him relax into his boyfriend’s hold, and pick up whatever book they had been reading lately to pick up where they had left off last time, Eddie reading it aloud to Steve, doing different voices for each character. Right now they were reading The Two Towers. With anyone else it would have felt embarrassing, being read to like a little kid, but it wasn’t, with Eddie. Steve wanted to read Eddie’s favorite books, he wanted to understand the jokes and references that he and the kids made with each other and to be able to enjoy it with them, but he just couldn’t.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like reading, it was just that it was hard for him, harder than it should have been. He tended to avoid reading on his own, because staring at the tiny words just made his head ache and his eyes tired. That was okay, though, because Eddie had been more than happy to narrate the Lord of the Rings books to Steve, anyway. Since they had started reading it together, Steve had begun to understand exactly why people liked it so much. The text was dense and Steve was very impressed that Eddie was able to pronounce all of the names and stuff. And the story was good, great, even. He liked Aragorn a lot, and when he had told this to Eddie he had laughed and kissed Steve’s cheek, saying, “Yeah, sweetheart, I know.” Anyway, this Tolkien guy was kind of a genius, in Steve’s opinion.

Often, they would spend entire days just laying in Eddie’s bed, Steve sprawled on his chest, reading together. Steve would always insist that they take breaks so that Eddie could rest his voice and drink some water, and Eddie would always drop a kiss into Steve’s hair and call him sweet whenever Steve stopped him for a break, which never failed to make Steve blush. He wasn’t used to being called sweet, but Eddie never let him argue over the statement.

Steve thought about this as he opened the door to the trailer, letting himself in without knocking, knowing that Eddie was probably just waiting for him to walk in. He had called Steve at Family Video earlier in the afternoon during a brief pause in the Saturday rush to invite him over when he got off work.

It had been unusually busy at the store today, even for a Saturday, and at noon Steve was already tired of dealing with rude teens and even ruder adults for a minimum wage paycheck. So when the phone rang, he had groaned and turned to Robin, who had been looking just as tired as he had been feeling.

(Robin had seen him start to ask her to answer the phone and cut him off before he could get a word out, shaking her head forcefully and glaring at him. “No way, dingus, it’s your turn to answer the phone. I’ve answered the last three calls!”

“Yeah,” Steve had let his drop onto the counter and closed his eyes against the ringing of the phone in his ear. “You had to because I was busy dealing with Shannon Simmons trying to flirt her way into a free rental, despite the fact that I was clearly not interested!” He protested.

Robin had just quirked an eyebrow at him, turning back to sorting the returns before the next rush started. “Answer the phone, Steve.”

Steve had groaned again, before dragging his limbs up to a standing position and picking up the receiver. “Family Video, this is Steve speaking, how can I help you?” he had droned in the flattest tone he could manage, ignoring the kick in the calf this earned him from Robin.

“Wow, such enthusiasm for the job, Stevie,” Eddie’s voice had drawled sarcastically over the phone, and Steve had perked up immediately as he recognized it. “Employee of the month material, right here! Somebody give this guy a raise for his excellent customer service skills!” Eddie had continued, and Steve had heard the grin in his voice through the line.

“Eddie,” Steve had smiled, feeling somewhat energized by his boyfriend’s voice. Robin had turned her head at this and waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, which Steve had waved off with an eyeroll. “What’s up, Eds?”

“Hmmm, not much,” Eddie had hummed in answer. “I was just thinking of you and wanted to ask if you wanted to come over and read chapter four after your shift later. You can say no if you want, I know you’re probably gonna be tired.”

“Of course I wanna come over, I’m never too tired to spend time with you,” Steve knew it was a stupidly sappy thing to say and that the lovesick tone he had said it in probably didn’t help, but he hadn’t cared. He had heard Robin pretending to gag, but he had ignored her in favor of hearing Eddie’s cooing noise.

“Such a charmer, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice had been teasing, but Steve knew that he was probably blushing on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’ll let you hang up before you get in trouble for using the work phone to talk to your super hot and wonderful boyfriend instead of doing your job. Tell Robin I said hi!”

Steve had rolled his eyes fondly and said, “Okay, I’ll see you after work, Eds,”

“See you then, sweetheart! Love ya!” Then Eddie had made a kissy noise that made Steve laugh and then there was a click and Steve put the phone back as he heard the dial tone signaling that Eddie had hung up.

“Eddie says hi,” He had said to Robin, and as she had opened her mouth to say something mocking back to him, the bell over the door had rung as a group of loud teenage boys walked in, saving Steve from her teasing.

Back to work, but at least he had plans with Eddie to look forward to now.)

As Steve shut the trailer door behind him, he toed off his shoes and slipped off his work vest, hanging it on the hook by the door. He liked that there were places in Eddie’s home specifically for Steve and his things, it made him feel like he was at home here when Eddie made room for Steve in his life.

He didn’t bother fighting down a yawn as he moved down the hall to Eddie’s room, it had been a long day and he was looking forward to unwinding with his boyfriend. He saw Eddie’s door open and he smiled at the sight of Eddie lying on his stomach with his head propped up on one of his hands at the end of the bed, his other hand holding his beat up copy of The Two Towers. Eddie looked up when he noticed Steve standing in the doorway.

“Well, hello there, handsome,” Eddie smiled up at him and started to shift from where he was laying to get into their reading position.

“Hi,” Steve crossed over to Eddie on the bed and kissed him softly, sighing into it when Eddie’s hand cupped Steve’s cheek and kissed him back for a moment before Steve pulled away. He went over to the dresser to pull out his favorite pair of Eddie’s sweatpants and a Black Sabbath tour shirt to change into. “Were you reading ahead before I got here?”

“Stevie, baby,” Eddie said, watching as Steve stripped out of his work shirt and pants, eyes lingering on the scars on his stomach. Steve tried not to blush as he stepped into the sweatpants. “I’ve read this book a million times, I don’t think it counts as reading ahead if I already know the entire story by heart,”

Steve pulled the shirt over his head, not caring at all that it messed up his hair as he pulled it down. “Yeah, but this is your first time reading it with me,”

“That it is, sweetheart,” Eddie nodded happily and reached out his arms as Steve came to the bed. “That it is.” He opened his legs for Steve to lay down between.

Steve hummed contentedly as he snuggled into Eddie’s chest placing all of his weight on his boyfriend as he leaned in, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s torso and closing his eyes as one of Eddie’s came up to wrap around him.

“You’re pretty sleepy tonight, baby,” Eddie said quietly, fondly. “Are you sure you wanna read tonight? We can just go to bed, if you want.”

“No,” Steve protested, his eyes still closed against Eddie’s shirt. “I wanna listen to you read, gotta find out what’s happening to Merry and Pippin in the forest,” He insisted. Steve liked the hobbits a lot, especially Pippin, who kind of reminded him of Dustin. Not that he would ever tell Dustin that.

Eddie chuckled softly and Steve enjoyed the way the laugh vibrated in his chest. “Okay, I’ll read, but it’s okay if you fall asleep, yeah?” He picked up the book from where he had placed it on the pillow next to him. “It can be a bedtime story tonight.”

“Okay,” Steve murmured, already starting to drift now that he was settled against Eddie, being surrounded by his boyfriend’s long limbs. As he thought this, Eddie’s legs wrapped around Steve’s and he rubbed a hand against Steve’s arm.

Steve knew what the warm feeling in his chest was. It was some mixture of safety, trust, and a not inconsiderable amount of love for Eddie.

“Okay, so, we left off at chapter three,” Eddie said as he flipped through the pages to get to where they had left off last time. He found it, and cleared his throat dramatically before he began to read aloud.

“ ‘Chapter Four: Treebeard. Meanwhile the hobbits went with as much speed as the dark and tangled forest allowed, following the line of the running stream, westward and up towards the slopes of the mountains, deeper and deeper into Fangorn. Slowly their fear of the Orcs died away, and their pace slackened. A queer stifling feeling came over them, as if the air were too thin or too scanty for breathing…' ”

Steve didn’t last very long, he knew he wouldn’t. He was tired and he was safe, and that combination, plus the soothing sound of Eddie’s narration, was more than enough to lull him to sleep. He stopped fighting, and let himself relax fully.

As he slipped into sleep, he barely registered the kiss Eddie placed on his head.

“Good night, love,” Eddie whispered. “I hope you have sweet dreams,”

And Steve did.

#hi i hope it's ok that i tagged you in this #feel free to ignore this if you want lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve #eddie #my writing #anya.txt

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thefandomenchantress · 2 months

Text

Okay so. I’m currently working on a post that has this detail in it, but the post is really long and what I’m sharing now is at the end. And I don’t really expect a lot of people to through what’s probably 1,000+ words to get to it. I talked about it another time, but I don’t think it really got seen because it was a reblog. So I’m sharing it here, because I think it’s actually pretty important and should be talked about.

During Ace’s testimony about David and Arei, Arei says this:

Which makes sense by itself. We the audience know Arei would definitely say that, now that we know what happened in the Infirmary with Eden and Arei.

But remember. This is Ace’s testimony. And, well, there’s something that makes this very suspicious.

Ace doesn’t think Arei wants to change before he gives his testimony.

But he should. If we believe his testimony.

According to him, he heard her say that she wanted to change and “become a good person”. To be like Eden. And yet, he doesn’t believe Eden earlier in the trial when she says that Arei wanted to change, before he hears the story about Eden, Arei, and Arturo.

Which gives us four options, listed from worst to best (based on my opinions of course):

Option 1: The creator made a mistake and forgot Ace was supposed to know about Arei becoming a good person. I hate this answer, it’s such a cop-out. I hate assuming a creator made a mistake just because I don’t understand a piece of evidence or it doesn’t fit with my current view of something. I hesitate to even include this as an option. (This came out a bit aggressive sorry I just got a little passionate).

Option 2: Ace is a dumbass and didn’t remember that Arei said that until he said his testimony. While I don’t really like this one, either, since it’s also just a way of saying it’s irrelevant and doesn’t impact anything, I suppose it does sorta fit with Ace’s ‘act first, think second’ attitude.

Option 3: Ace is the culprit and jumped on the ‘Arei committed suicide’ bandwagon when he saw a chance to avoid most of the trial. I don’t really believe this one, but it is a viable option, I suppose. Though if he was the culprit, I don’t really understand why he wouldn’t share the David secret info immediately just to throw David under the bus and hope everyone voted for him.

Option 4: My personal favorite. Ace lies in his testimony. That’s why the information in it is inaccurate and why it seems like he hastily tried to add in details he recently learned from things like Eden’s testimony without considering the fact that the way he acted earlier wouldn’t make sense if he already overheard things about them. I’ll explain a little further.

The reason I believe this one the most, is also because of David’s reaction to Ace’s testimony.

He doesn’t say “No, Ace is lying” but he also doesn’t say “Yes, Ace is correct and his testimony is true.” Instead, he does something very interesting. He confirms that Arei and him met in the relaxation room…But refuses to admit that Ace is right about the conversation they had. Instead he avoids the question and says he isn’t going to remember anymore.

Which is really weird? Right before this he went on a big speech about just admitting the truth to preserve his pride. And this is backed up later when he refuses to be called the culprit—Well, until he realizes that’s the only way to get the class to realize he’s not the culprit. Or decides he wants to die. And yet, David refuses to say Ace told the truth about his and Arei’s conversation. Which he should be doing! Like I said, he went on a tangent about how he was just going to admit the truth right before this!

Which leads one to believe that Ace told the truth about David and Arei meeting in the relaxation room. But he changed the conversation they had in some way.

I think that’s the most agreeable part of the theory. The most believable, because it has the most evidence backing it up. However, Ace’s reasons for doing what he did, and what he changed in his testimony, are where things get a little messier.

Ace could’ve changed the story so that he could throw David under the bus, since David was trying to throw a bit of suspicion on him beforehand. But that still leaves the question of why. I’m gonna do a bit of repeating from my last theory, just for a little bit. Then we get back to some new stuff.

I’m going to go under the assumption that Ace changed the conversation to be about David’s secret, when in reality it was about something else, since I think that makes the most sense. (I recognize there are probably other avenues one could take, however). But if Ace knew David’s secret without overhearing it, he could’ve just said, “Hey, I know David’s secret, it’s the manipulator one! I know because *insert reasons Arei gave in the flashback, minus seeing it over Whit’s shoulder*” and that would be the end of it.

But Ace didn’t do that. Under this theory, he made up a whole conversation to justify why he knew. And I think it’s pretty simple to see why he did that.

Ace doesn’t want to die.

Ace just almost got murdered. He’s not too eager for that to happen again, so he wants to take all precautions to avoid it. People already don’t like him, so that’s not good. But what happens if people find out he’s observant enough to figure out David’s secret by himself, just from watching David’s behavior throughout the chapter? Currently, everyone thinking he’s an idiot when it comes to basically everything is working in his favor for once, since when trying to get away with murder, you’d probably want to murder the people who could potentially solve it. Not an incompetent asshole who’ll probably just make things easier for you. The only time this doesn’t apply is when the murder is more of a crime of passion, so to speak, like Nico’s. Where they, by their own admission, didn’t even think about the trial before they tried to murder.

So if Ace wants the best chance of avoiding becoming a future victim and revealing David’s secret, he can’t admit he found out on his own…And what better way to circumvent that than pin the blame on someone who’s already dead and can’t object to his story, like Arei? Better yet, he can just use the location and set-up he already saw, just change their conversation so that they said what he wanted!

Do you really think he left his story so open-ended on accident?

He purposely left it up to interpretation as to whether David was actually as evil as the secret says, because Ace himself doesn’t actually know if he is. He gives David the opportunity to reveal that the secret was exaggerated because he has no way of knowing if it is or not. He knows David manipulates people, like how he did so to make sure his real secret wasn’t revealed. But is he truly as pure evil as the secret makes him out to be? Ace doesn’t know.

Also, this line?

“I’m right, aren’t I?” This might be confirmation bias talking, but this just straight-up sounds to me like he’s saying, “I’m right, that is your secret and all those things I had ‘Arei’ say were true, weren’t they?”

Again, this isn’t my strongest point, but Ace in this case wasn’t really ‘right’. If anything, Arei was right because she accused David. Ace would only be right if he figured out his secret, which he didn’t according to his testimony.

But maybe I’m looking into this line too much. “I’m right and what I said happened actually happened” may just be the meaning. Moving on.

(Ace accidentally predicted the Literature Girl Insane video hehe).

With this theory in mind, Ace expected David to explain his behavior a multitude of ways, but completely changing his demeanor and just becoming a major asshole? He did not expect that.

This is on more of a light-hearted note, but:

This scene would be very fitting and kinda hilarious in retrospect if this theory were true. Ace is appalled by J’s comment because the part about him eavesdropping on a conversation was literally the only part of his testimony that was true, yet J finds it the most suspicious. And J’s habit of assuming the worst of people has been used for comedic effect before, so it’s possible.

Anyways, I think that’s all. The first part, about inconsistencies in Ace’s story, is probably the most relevant, and my theorizing afterwards was more so just my opinion on things and what I think happened.

I said I thought people wouldn’t read a long post, so I made a new one…But then the new post turned really long…Whoops.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #ace markey #david chiem #theory #cw suicidal thoughts #technically? if you count my one mention of david possibly just wanting to die #thank you for listening to my insane rambling for so long #oops forgot arei #arei nageishi #i tried some stuff with colors this time hope you guys liked it

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

Text

✨ stranger things fic rec pt 1 ✨

part 2 | part 3

mostly steddie with some ronance/fruity four/platonic stobin sprinkled in. heed the ratings, there's a healthy amount of smut.

fics in this installment: 65

fics in total: 196

as per usual:

-all fics are in alphabetical order

-please tell me if the links are broken/linked wrong

more fic recs

my own works

and, as always, please leave kudos and comments, and reblog this post!

'86 baby - T, 2.5k, 1/1, complete

hydrangea_bush

Eddie is finally graduating and is prepared to walk up to Principal Higgins, flip him the bird, and snatch his diploma.

Steve doesn't know any of this is about to go down and is just proudly waiting for his boyfriend to graduate.

"Steve Harrington Corrupted By Eddie Munson - Sounds like a Hawkins Headline" - E, 7.5k, 1/1

krwaken

"Harrington, what the hell are you thinking about down there?"

Steve grins up at the ceiling, languid and sated. He feels so fucking good. Every muscle in his body is relaxed, practically turning him into a melted puddle in the middle of Eddie's trailer. The carpet underneath him is soft and plush, and maybe a little outdated, but Steve swears he could sleep here for an entire year. He runs his open palms along the shag, letting out a contented noise - somewhere between a hum and a moan.

"God, you're so fucking high," Eddie says.

(you're my) bone to pick - E, 2.6k, 1/1

bdelaney

Kinktober Day 30: Pet Play

“How about this?” he says into the top of Steve’s head. “I’m gonna go get our food, and you stay here–” Steve cuts him off with a whine, and the hand running through his hair suddenly grips him firmly. “You’re going to stay here and get out of your work clothes. And then when I get home, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll put your collar on.”

Any remaining tension seeps from Steve’s body fast enough to leave him feeling a bit lightheaded. He chances a glance up to see Eddie smirking softly down at him, eyes knowing as he watches Steve already beginning to slip into that headspace at the mere mention of his collar.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Alright, up we go. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

4B - T, 4k, 1/1

andthentheybow

One of them is in college, Josh and Maisie are pretty sure, at Emerson. The other three work an odd variety of hours. They have a large amount of makeshift weapons littered where anyone can grab them, they’re all covered in scars, and whenever the lights in the hallway flicker they jump about three feet in the air.

Or, the kids that live in apartment 4B are weird.

5 times someone noticed Steve and Eddie and 1 time everyone noticed - G, 6/6

kermittheshipper

5 times somebody notices Steve and Eddie being completely and irrevocably in love and 1 time everyone notices

A Bad Day - T, 6.3k, 1/1

Abigailcantread

Steve’s friends don’t know he’s struggling and he reaches his breaking point

Steve has a very bad day and someone’s there to help

A Bracelet - G, 2.6k, 1/1

mewtoz

Steve is making a bracelet for Eddie and he really hopes his boyfriend will like it.

a criminal like me (and a princess like you) - T, 3.3k, 1/1

roosevelt

When Eddie comes into Family Video on one hot, boring summer day in Hawkins, long after the danger has passed and things have gotten back to normal, the last thing he expected was for Steve to invite him over his place to watch The Breakfast Club.

And the last thing either of them expected was what came after the movie.

a lunchbox full of drugs and pretzels - G, 606, 1/1

Lullabyebye

Eddie gets an actual lunch instead of just pretzels.

A Quiet (distracting) Morning - N/A, 1k, 1/1

slythekiel

A sweet rainy morning between Eddie and Steve as Eddie prepares for the next session of his campaign. Sweetness ensues.

A Secret World, My Secret Love - M, 6/6

RandomThingsInLife

Steve curses everything that led him here. Here being stuck in a Russian elevator, he was supposed to be with his fucking boyfriend tonight.

In other words, Steve's been dating Eddie for a bit, and he really wishes Dustin wasn't quite so curious.

Eddie has no clue what's going on, his boyfriend has been beat to hell and maybe drugged, and every word someone says just adds more confusion.-In other words, Eddie loves his boyfriend, but he really, really needs someone to tell him what the fuck is going on.

ahoy there - E, 7.4k, 1/1

starryskeyess

“Alright, Munson, let’s hear it,” Steve says, beckoning at Eddie. “Do your worst.”

Eddie blinks at him a few times, hiding half his face in his drink as he eyes Steve from head to toe. Everything about Eddie is intense, and the way he looks at Steve right now is no exception. Blatant and interested and heated.

Steve shudders at the look, so direct it feels like a physical touch, but he doesn’t back down.

Eventually Eddie smiles at him, wide and playful, and asks, “So when do you set sail, big boy?”

all at once it feels so right - M, 3.7k, 1/1

deadratz

Robin has never kissed anyone and is terrified of doing it wrong. Steve and Eddie both offer to give their best friend a (completely platonic) kiss to show her it's not so bad, but it ends up being too weird, and too funny of a situation for them.

Nancy ends up being the one to help Robin out.

Steve realizes that he might still be hurt over how his relationship with Nancy ended, and feels just a bit overprotective over Robin.

Eddie helps Steve.

All I Ask - M, 8.2k, 1/1

god_hates_tyler (@bisexual-cryptid)

Eddie will not stop calling Steve silly little pet names, which is really not helping the massive crush he has on him. He gets super flustered whenever he does it and makes a bit of a fool of himself in the process. Thankfully Eddie seems to like him anyway.

always a lonely boy (cry, boy, cry) - T, 2/2

riceenthusiast

If Steve got called an asshole one more time Robin would lose her actual mind. This was her official warning. The last chance everyone got to clear their fucking act before she snapped.

(Boy, did she snap.)

OR: Robin is sick of everyone putting Steve down and calling him an asshole (Steve was sick too but in a different way). She finally snaps when she has to comfort him after a breakdown.

Amantium irae amoris integratio est - T, 2.7k, 1/1

hellabifurious

Eddie and Steve didn't fight. It wasn't an official rule they'd written down somewhere, stuck on the fridge between the chore chart and the grocery list. Yet by a certain point, it simply felt like a rule of the universe, the ones that governed space and time and held together the sun and moon and stars.

Max allowed that to comfort her; coming home every day to Steve and Eddie's at most playful bickering allowed her to find solid land when everything around her was spinning out of control.

Naturally, when she heard the shouting, her stomach turned to lead.

And I'm Sorry I Left, But It Was For The Best (Thought It Never Felt Right) - T, 3k, 1/1

Babybuckleydiaz

“Oh darling, what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” Questioned the curly haired man, and Steve wishes he could put it into words what’s going on in his head right now.

“Can I braid your hair?” He asks instead, and he expects to get questioned more or for Eddie to try and keep them on topic, but that isn’t at all the reality that he is faced with right now. Instead, Eddie smiles so softly and filled with nothing but understanding as he nods his head in silent agreement because he knows how Steve’s mind works.

- - -

“Tommy called me today, he wanted to try and be friends again.”

- - -

Steve pauses and smiles softly before he answers. “For loving me.” Is the response that he gets, and Eddie’s gaze softens into something filled with pure unadulterated love that he holds for the man sitting pretty on the couch in front of him. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he responds.

“You never need to thank me for that. I do it happily, lovely.”

- - -

aka: steve having a bad day and eddie is a wonderful partner

Babygirl and Sunshine - T, 2.7k, 1/1

made_of_tea

He squatted next to the bush, giving Eddie a good view of his thighs. "Anyway, why are you in a bush?"

"Henderson thinks you have a girlfriend, and we're all spying to see if you meet up with her during your morning jog," Eddie explained.

~~~

The Party thinks Steve has a girlfriend. Little do they know, the "girlfriend" is actually a boy. And that boy is Eddie Munson.

Back to the Light - T, 2.7k, 1/1

analogical9954

Dustin has a terrible nightmare about that night and there's only one place he can think to go: Steve's.

Backer? I Hardly Know Her! - T, 1k, 1/1

alligator_writes (@riality-check)

"'I quit dealing illegal shit,' Eddie says. 'Now I just get alcohol and backer for high school kids who want to party a bit.'

'Backer?'

Eddie looks at Steve like he’s stupid. 'The shit that goes in cigarettes? I know you’ve been clocked in the head a lot, but you’re not that dumb, sweetheart.'

Rude, Steve thinks to himself, then says, 'Do you mean tobacco?'

'Yeah. Backer.' Eddie has the beginnings of a shit-eating grin on his face."

AKA an incredibly niche fic in which Steve and Eddie compare their accents. (you don't need to read the first work in the series to read this one)

Bad Timing and a Good Audience - T, 5.1k, 1/1

MonstrumOstendere

After an enlightening conversation, Chrissy finds out Eddie likes Steve. Steve also finds out. Robin is just along for the ride.

be my baby ( never half & always whole. ) - G, 3.4k, 1/1

peachyyjacobs

“Don’t need you choking on your own vomit in case you throw up,” Eddie says softly, and Steve thinks he hears an underlying tone of pain somewhere in there.

“Mm ‘kay,” Steve mumbles, gazing up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes. The blurriness is starting to subside a little bit, but not all that much.

Eddie sits down next to him, his back resting against Steve’s headboard. “How are you feeling?” Eddie asks, voice soft as he looks down at Steve. His hair is curlier, frizzier, even. “Your hair looks so curly,” Steve says, curbing Eddie’s question completely. A shocked laugh is ripped from Eddie’s throat, looking down at Steve in bewilderment. “I like it when you laugh,” Steve tacks on, before Eddie can say anything in rebuttal to him.

A rose blush dusts over Eddie’s cheeks. He shifts where he sits. He clears his throat, “you do?” He asks. Steve nods, a dopey look of his own falling across his face. “Yeah, ‘s loud…Like you, like you own the whole room when you laugh.”

or, a party at Steve's soon turns into something much softer.

besides all the glamour (all we got was bruised) - M, 9.6k, 1/1

haushinka_love

He knew, through rumors and jokes and the literal handcuffs hanging on his wall that Eddie liked things rough. Probably liked his partners rough and strong and durable in a way Steve hadn’t been since the first time he swung a baseball bat full of rusty nails at a monster from an alternate dimension. Since Jonathan and Billy and several unnamed Russian officers had each taken a turn at making mincemeat of his face. Since chipped teeth and concussions and broken bone after broken bone. For all his bravado, for all the time he spent chasing down demons and play-acting a hero, he knew the second Eddie laid his hands on him, he would crumble, and he just couldn’t live with the shame of having his chance and ruining it because he couldn’t keep up.

Or, the one in which Eddie Munson lives and Steve Harrington learns that it’s okay to want.

but yours has just begun - E, 1.3k, 1/1

limerental

The plates rattle in the cabinets. The trailer's kitchen is glowing orange like fire while the sun tracks to the black edge of the horizon, and Steve can't dance for shit, always gets a little deer in the headlights when Eddie tries to hip chuck him into it. Slow, Steve puts his hands up high on Eddie's waist and tries to move with him, clumsy as shit but earnest, and Jesus Christ, Eddie wants to keep this guy snug in his pocket and feed him kitchen scraps. Get him a collar. Tug.

Calamity's Child - T, 3.6k, 1/1

glorious_spoon

It’s 10:15 on a Sunday morning, and Steve is on Eddie Munson’s couch.

More specifically: Steve is on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his boxer shorts and a shirt that's clearly been slept in, eating dry cereal out of the box and blinking slowly at the TV, which is currently playing WWF. His hair is more of a mess than Dustin has ever seen it outside of literal fights to the death. Eddie himself is nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dustin demands, dropping his backpack just inside the door.

Candle in a Window on a Cold Dark Winter's Night - G, 6/6

Shadowmouth

Five times Steve (and Eddie) spontaneously come out and one time they plan it.

come lie with me and let silence treat us kindly - T, 3.6k, 1/1

flowercrowngods

Eddie learns that sometimes Steve will just lie down on the floor and simply exist while the world around him continues. The Party know that, call it "floor time", and generally leave him be until Steve is ready to be back. Eddie doesn't mind, because it offers him even more opportunities to just look at him. To watch him.

That is, until Eddie himself is in dire need of just lying down and letting the floor work its apparent magic. It's a good thing, he finds, that Steve understands him without as many words and is very ready to just take care of him. Eddie might be a little bit in love, actually.

Or: In which they lie on the floor and take care of each other, falling in love somewhere along the way between music and silence.

Come up for air, you pull me to the floor - E, 2.2k, 1/1

L3gitD3ntist

He looked like cogs were spinning in his head, his gaze locked on Steve and weighted with longing. Steve raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Eddie’s expression shifted towards a grin; wide and wolffish.

“Y’know, it’s not every day I get to see Steve Harrington on his knees in front of me.”

His voice had deepened, words followed with a low approving whistle.

“And my, my, my; what a view.”

Contact - T, 1.3k, 1/1

jesskier

AU where it’s still 1986 but everything is normal.

Steve and Eddie run and hide from Jason & his goons under the high school bleachers.

Critical Hit - E, 7.1k, 1/1

AidaRonan

Steve shows up to play DnD.

Eddie decides Steve can stay. IF 'King Steve' recognizes the real lord and master of Hellfire.

Dee - N/A, 731, 1/1

demon_spirals

“Close your eyes.”

“What was that now, Stevie?”

“You heard me! Close ‘em!”

Dirty Laundry - T, 4.3k, 1/1

sparrow_in_hawkins

Eddie is excited for Steve to attend a Corroded Coffin gig for the first time, even if it includes fighting off other guys who want to hit on Steve.

Disarmed - T, 1.5k, 1/1

crow_of_crimes

When Robin and Steve volunteer to drive Murray back to Illinois, he may have met his match, a case he finally can't crack.

Or, Murray tries to break down Robin and Steve's "relationship", but it's more of a challenge.

don't make me regret this, dingus - G, 1.7k, 1/1

kermitwashingtonlincon

The King of Hawkins High takes the Weirdest Girl in Hawkins to prom

Don't Tell Steve - T, 3.9k. 1/1

Blapblaps

Fourth of July is just around the corner, and Eddie’s determined to make it the perfect day for everyone. The best way to do that is to give the kids their own fireworks display, but the only way to do that is to keep his boyfriend calm, cool, and collected. Can’t be too difficult, right?

Double Date at the Haunted Corn Maze - T, 2.8k, 1/1

Asimplewriterlivingasimplelife2

It’s Friday night and instead of having a double date to the midnight showing of Evil Dead, Steve was standing in line for the annual Hawkins Haunted Corn Maze.

Drive Me Crazy - T, 1.7k, 1/1

Asimplewriterlivingasimplelife2

"You sure know how to drive a guy crazy Steve-O."

"Yeah?"

Steve and Eddie make out in the Staff Room at Family Video and get to be happy

Dying for Another Taste - N/A, 7.3k, 1/1

the_departed_one

Eddie likes to think he’s not an overly judgmental person. He prefers to take his time and fully learn someone before deciding anything about them. It’s the same grace he wishes Hawkins and all her judgmental residents had given him before writing him off as the freak. But whatever, that doesn’t matter. He’ll still give them the benefit of the doubt first, even the ones who shouldn’t get it.

The most notable exception to that is one Steve Harrington.

Or, Eddie finally learns about what the Russians did to Steve and Robin.

End of Beginning - T, series

FreshLoaf

“This is dedicated to my husband, who, at the beginning, only ever heard the shitty versions of these songs and still believed in me anyway.”

The crowd roars, and Steve hears a couple of their Chicago friends near the stage boo in jest. Eddie narrows his eyes at them and laughs.

Steve looks around at this bar that their family has shared so many memories in - he tries and fails to not let his heart overflow at the sight of so many people coming to see Eddie play in the same bar that housed empty gigs not that long ago.

He wills himself not to cry.

Eddie wins a Grammy, finishes an album and comes home for a secret gig - and in the arms of their old haunt, Steve surprises him.

Family is Built, not Born - N/A, 3.7k, 1/1

just_a_garbage_dump

When an argument between Steve and his father ends badly, he turns to his boyfriend for support, but instead finds Wayne, who turns out to not be half bad.

feel the magic (there's something that drives me wild) - T, 1.8k, 1/1

fivecenturiesverse

Robin is drunk and not for the first time wishes she could fall in love with Steve Harrington. Wishes she was 'normal'.

It’s dumb, really dumb, that she still wants to crow to the whole of Hawkins High that she knows what Steve looks like in the morning, in his boxers, coming out of the shower. She still wants to be normal, and it stings sometimes so harshly she thinks she might cry, that she’s never going to swoon over Steve’s arms or his stupid hair.

Fight So Dirty (But You Love So Sweet) - E, 4.2k, 1/1

god_hates_tyler (@bisexual-cryptid)

Eddie ties Steve up and marks up his chest before fucking him stupid.

First Timer - E, 2k, 1/1

ZachwyBuwnzie

Steve and Eddie do it for the first time

Forget About - M, 2k, 1/1

theoldhouse

Eddie laughed. And Steve saw the light come back into his face.

The light was beautiful.

Steve and Eddie share a tender moment in the RV.

four walls - T, 2.5k, 1/1

shroooms

“You got a lotta stuff,” Steve remarks, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, arms behind his back.

Eddie’s cheeks grow red. “Yeah, stuff just sorta piles up in here,” he takes a seat at the edge of his bed. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve done any kind of deep cleaning around here so, sorry for the mess.”

“No, no — it’s fine, man, it’s cool. Your room’s cool. I like it,” Steve reassures.

steve, eddie, and home

Fragile (Handle With Care) - E, series

LexiRoseWrites (@lexirosewrites)

All it takes is getting dragged to one Corroded Coffin concert for Steve’s life to change forever. Now he has to find a way to navigate a newfound romance with his famous soulmate while dealing with his complicated past and mothering a pack of preteen pups.

full time daddy, white and gold - E, 1.4k, 1/1

bdelaney

“You think we finally knocked you up?”

The words take a second to register in Steve’s post-orgasm haze, but then…

Oh.

get you back (by my side) - T, 3.9k, 1/1

fivecenturiesverse

Eddie hasn't spoken to Gareth and the others since whatever went down with Chrissy Cunningham, now Gareth sees him playing basketball with Steve Harrington and a bunch of kids, what the fuck is going on?

Sinclair sighs longingly.

“Okay, man, I can get behind you on the sweet and salty,” says Gareth, “but New Coke?”

“He was crazy for it,” says Harrington, grinning all fond at the back of Sinclair’s head like he’s retelling the story of his toddler’s foray into the world of art and talking Gareth through all the monstrosities in pride of place on the fridge. “Weird kid.”

Eddie is smiling at the side of Harrington’s face and Jesus Christ, Gareth never wants to meet another gay man in his whole life if their taste is Steve fucking Harrington.

get you wild, make you leave ( a little much for everyone. ) - G, 3.2k, 1/1

peachyyjacobs

“Hey,” he murmurs, slowly sitting up. Eddie whips his head to look in Steve’s direction, eyes wide and wild. He looks scared. “What’s up?” Steve whispers, more than ready to help. Eddie just shakes his head, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Steve glances over at the clock, barely able to see the big hand pointed at the six, and the little hand pointed at two.

“It’s two thirty, Munson. Did you have a nightmare?” Steve asks inquisitively.

And finally, Eddie opens his mouth to speak. “No,” comes his defensive reply, but Steve sees right through him.

or, it's movie night at the Wheeler's, but Steve's got something in store for him.

Getting Eddie Munson to graduate, and other acts of herosim - M, 7/7

liionne

It had only been about two weeks since Vecna and their trip to the upside down and everything had just… gone back to normal. As it always did. Life went on. The kids went back to school, he and Robin went back to work, Nancy and Jonathon were getting ready for college and Eddie…

Apparently, no one thought to check in on Eddie.

Recovering from first-time exposure wasn't easy, especially not when your return meant trying to graduate high school for the third time, so Steve decides he's going to do whatever it takes to help Eddie Munson graduate, even if it means re-learning 12th grade U.S History, and learning some things about himself along the way.

Good Dog - E, 7.8k, 1/1

PuppyKTae

Eddie calls Steve a "golden retriever boyfriend." Steve likes that a little more than he probably should.

Aka: Eddie calls Steve a good girl ❤

Handcuffs and Pleasant Surprises - E, 5k, 1/1

thefatedthoughtofyou

Steve accidentally handcuffs himself to Eddie's bed. It might be the best day of Eddie's life.

Happy Birthday, Will Byers. - T, 2.4k, 1/1

jesskier

“You forgot Will’s birthday?!”

The look on Steve’s face is nothing short of flabbergasted, and Eddie can’t exactly blame him. El and Mike are staring back at them with wide, guilty eyes and he would never touch a hair on El’s head but he kind of wants to backhand Wheeler.

“We only just moved to California and it was very difficult,” El continues, tears welling in her giant, brown eyes. “He is like my brother and I would like to make it up to him.”

“Yeah,” Mike chimes in, gesturing at El with his thumb. “It was kind of distracting when El knocked a girl in the head with a roller skate.”

All three of them glare at Mike. El opens and closes her mouth a few times, apparently at a loss for words. Eddie takes an aggressive step forward. He’s never hit a kid but if he were going to it would be Wheeler, definitely.

Before he can speak his mind, Steve steps between them, coming to the rescue (which is so very him that it makes Eddie’s chest ache). “Okay!” He claps his hands and rolls up his shirt sleeves. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

have yourself a merry little christmas (far away from a hallmark card) - E, 9/9

JeanElaineGrey

Steve Harrington hates Christmas. Not in a Scrooge-y, Grinch-y way, but in a "my parents are never home for holidays" way. Eddie notices and worries.

He Can Handle It - T, 2.4k, 1/1

Tricker86

His parents weren’t supposed to be back for another four days, they didn’t come home early unless something happened. The last time they’d come home early was when the "earthquakes" happened, but they didn’t come home because they were worried. No, they came home because since he had been missing he was considered a suspect of murder. His parents had been furious, demanding to know why he was careless enough to let the family name be tarnished by his actions. Almost an exact replica of what they’d said the time before when they came home early because Steve had gotten suspended for getting in a fist fight with Billy Hargrove during basketball practice.

This time though there wasn’t a fight with Billy Hargrove. There wasn’t an "earthquake". There wasn’t anything other than the fact that for the past nine months he had been dating Eddie Munson.

Steve knows they know. He doesn’t know how but they know.

Steve's parents find out that he's dating Eddie. He doesn't know how they found out but he can't take it anymore. He doesn't care what they think or what they do. Whatever happens, he can handle it.

Head Over Heels - T, 3.5k, 1/1

possumrug

Vecna is gone. Highschool is over. Everything seems to be back on track for Eddie and Steve. But with Halloween just around the corner, what harm can a little relaxing do?

hideout series - E, series

ghosttotheparty (@ghosttotheparty)

steve and eddie fall in love pre-season two. steve keeps eddie away from the whole upside down mess, but of course he gets involved eventually. it was inevitable.

home - G, 2.6k, 1/1

peaktotheocean

Eddie was well aware that his ideas of romance were vastly different from that of the general population. Metal, for one-- super romantic music in Eddie's opinion.

His partner showing up to a metal festival after a twelve hour shift teaching/babysitting a bunch of five year olds, not even changed or showered from his day, covered in paint that he was never going to get out of his favorite sweater vest? The most romantic thing Eddie could think of.

Home (Music Box) - G, 1.7k, 1/1

eajsabandoned_acc

Steve Harrington hated hospitals with a burning passion. Smoldering, if you will.

But here he was, Hawkins Memorial Hospital, sitting in one of the stiff waiting room chairs next to Wayne Munson, waiting for Eddie to be discharged.

(Not that that needed a medal or a pat on the back, because that’s the bare fucking minimum, and he damn well knows it.)

Home Is Where The Heart Is - E, 3.8k, 1/1

calendulablooms

It feels like it's been a much more hectic day than it actually has. Steve has just worked himself up into a tizzy. The list of stuff he wants to get done before Eddie gets home is long, and he wants, no, needs everything to be perfect. Eddie's had a long day, and he deserves to come home to a clean home and dinner on the table. So Steve bustles from one end of the trailer to the other trying to get as much done as he can. He still has laundry to fold, and the floor could honestly use another going-over with the vacuum, but Eddie is due home any moment, so it's time to check on dinner.

(Or, Eddie figures out Steve maybe has a thing for being his good little housewife and indulges him like a good, sweet boyfriend)

honey, when you warm the bed on wednesday - G, 1.4k, 1/1

bartoninthevent

Slowly, Steve pulls his gaze from their joined hands to look into Eddie’s eyes. The usual deep brown of his eyes has caught the light just so and it has shifted the shade to a gorgeous amber that almost makes Eddie choke remembering how to breathe.

Holy shit, isn’t he the most beautiful man.

hopelessly devoted (to you) - T, 8.8k, 1/1

fivecenturiesverse

In Miami, on vacation with his parents, Steve meets Eddie. So what if he doesn't get a last name or a phone number, it was a summer fling and they had a great month together. He doesn't realise it was Eddie fucking Munson until the guy has a broken bottle to his neck and they're about to go face interdimensional aliens together. Steve doesn't know when his life became a very fucked up and non-musical version of Grease.

Robin’s lips twitch. “And it was just a summer fling?”

He narrows his eyes at her. “What?”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, Steve. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.” He must look as confused as he feels because she laughs and says, “Dude, you like sighed his name, you’re so done for.”

“Shut up. It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again, is it? I’m never even going to hear his name again. It was a summer fling and that’s all.”

Hours and Hours - E, 7k, 1/1

Blapblaps

“My tats turning you on that much, huh?” Eddie jokes.

“All of you,” Steve whispers, “So handsome.”

Eddie’s breath hitches and he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, bringing their bodies flush together. It sends a buzz thrumming underneath Steve’s skin.

“Talkin’ like that’s gonna get you in trouble,” Eddie’s voice is lower now, thick with something Steve hopes (knows) is love.

Steve’s hands haven’t stopped moving. “What kinda trouble,” He murmurs into Eddie’s ear, pulling their hips together.

“The kind where I keep you here and make love to you for hours.”

housing a wanted fugitive never looked so good - G, 2.6k, 1/1

just_yeole_cryptid

Dustin needs to find Eddie Munson, to help prove his innocence, and fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he goes to Steve.

Steve, who knows exactly where Eddie is.

“Did you see what was on the news?” Robin asked, disturbing Steve from his reverie, as Dustin and Max hurried up to the counter.

“That’s exactly what we’re here about.” Dustin replied, hopping the counter, barely giving Steve enough time to brush a stack of VHS tapes out of his way.

“We need to find Eddie,” Max supplied, giving Steve a look.

How Do I Get You Alone? - T, 5.1k, 1/1

eerielake

Dustin rolls his eyes and pushes off of the counter. "Your shift's almost over, right? Wanna hang out?"

Steve scoops up the fallen movies. "I would, but I've got plans. Me and Eddie are meeting up at the diner."

"Oh, that's cool. I'll just come with you."

Steve pauses his work and looks over his shoulder at Dustin. He's got a pinched look on his face, like he's thinking something over. Dustin knows that can be a real struggle for him.

"Uh... I don't... I don't know if that's a good idea."

5 times Dustin accidentally crashes a steddie date (+ 1 time Steve crashes a Hellfire Club meeting)

#steddie #steddie fic rec #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine #fic rec

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