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violentdelightsandviolentends · 10 months

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Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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laiiaaa · 9 months

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SARDINES — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen seems a little off when you visit him, and you try to figure out why. For once, you pry him open.

length 3.2k

contents angst, hurt/comfort, he's really an angel even if he's closed off n stubborn, very very emotional, lots of negative self-talk from Carm, he cares so so much, relationship talk, everything resolves in the end dw <3

It takes more than a few knocks for Carmen to open the door. If you counted correctly, it took six tries, plus a phone call. So you shouldn’t be surprised that when he finally does open the door, he barely gives you a kiss on the cheek and mumbles Hey before turning his back to you again, back in the kitchen with his phone face up on the counter. He’s antsy, almost talking to himself, checking his phone every five seconds.

You walk in and lock the door behind you as you take off your shoes, and you drop your bag on the coffee table, which houses little else other than a remote and a day-old mug with coffee staining a ring in the bottom. “…Everything okay?”

He leans into the counter with his weight on his hands and spares you a glance and a haphazard nod. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine—just waitin’ for my guy to call back.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Sitting down on the couch, part of you expects him to join you without being asked. Your back and feet ache, and all you want is for Carmen to lay with you, ease his hands up and down your spine, and watch the first thirty minutes of a random film before falling asleep.

“No, no—he usually answers when I need ‘im.” But he’s working. He’s at home, and you’re waiting on him, but he’s working. He seems to be prioritizing that a lot lately—a lot more than usual, at least. Running a hand through his hair, he watches the screen again, and mutters to himself, “Thirty fuckin’ minutes. Fuck you.”

You peek over the back of the couch. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You sound upset.”

“Yeah, baby, I’m—fuck this—” He derails from answering and instead picks up the phone again, calling and letting the dial tone ring out the second time this hour. He waits with his hand on his hip and his lip tugged between teeth.

You know ‘his guy’ doesn’t pick up when he drops his phone on the counter again with a sigh and another muffled profanity. “Carm?”

His head rests between his hands, but he lifts it to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Can you come sit with me, please?”

God, how you tug on his heart strings when you ask, your voice all sweet and dripping honey, you make it impossible to resist. “‘F course, yeah,” he answers, pocketing his phone and turning off the kitchen light before joining you.

He loops an arm over your shoulder as he presses his lips to your temple, and his heart skips a beat or two when you snuggle into him with your hand splayed against his chest. The two of you stare off at nothing in particular, soaking in the touch of the other. You smell so distinctly like you—like home—he’d be getting lightheaded in the best way if he weren’t so…so caught up in everything you help him escape: work, the fringe family, being so dead tired that in his mind he can’t tell where his kitchen ends and the fire begins. But that phone call he’s waiting on. It’s poking needles in the nape of his neck.

You sit up after a couple minutes, keeping a hand planted over his heart when you look at him. “I can literally feel how anxious you are.” He scoffs, but before he can protest you add, “Seriously, Carm, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s—everything’s just…” He looks off into nowhere behind you, his free hand making circles in the air like the words will fall into his palm if he tries hard enough. He stumbles for a few moments until he looks you in the eye again, a bit pained when he tells you, “Everything’s fine, baby.” The arm that was hooked over your shoulder is now curled around your waist, and his fingers, rough and scarred, trace meaningless shapes into your back, teasing beneath the hem of your top. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout it, alright?”

You’re unconvinced. You shuffle your hips around to straddle his, placing your hands on his shoulders with your thumbs carefully massaging the sides of his neck. Like clockwork, his hands take purchase of your waist, and he brings one to slide down over the curve of your ass before smoothing circles into your thigh. He always seems to speak to you in this way—maybe about as much as he tells you he loves you through his food—the physical connection much easier to manage than trying to crack open the rock-hard shell in his chest.

You lean into him a little more, your back arching ever so slightly. “You know I want you to keep me in the loop. What’s the guy for now?”

He sighs. “It’s just—shit with the stoves ‘n it’s messin everyone up, the kitchen’s basically a fire hazard, ‘n I really need him to answer his damn phone before something…” He shrugs. “…Before something just, I dunno, blows up, I guess.”

“Well, nobody’s even in that kitchen right now, so no explosions just yet.” You eye him for a moment, biting at your lip in contemplation when he doesn’t smile quite like he usually does at your drier jokes. “Is there something else bothering you?”

His brows furrow. “No, no—why, why’re you askin’ it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” He shakes his head as if it pains him to consider it. “Like there’s somethin’ wrong with me, or, or somethin’ I’m hidin’—”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Carm, c’mon.” Your voice goes softer, hands a little gentler as you cradle his jaw in your palms. “I just want you to let me in.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose. “You’re always sayin’ stuff like that,” he mumbles, and you can feel the vibration of his voice through your hands through to your heart.

“Because I mean it.” The AC whirrs nearby, almost muffling your words. “I want you to tell me about the things that bother you. I would never judge you.”

You’re so tender with Carmen, he thinks he could melt into a puddle on the floor, left to seep into the floorboards and through the ceiling of his downstairs neighbor. And he feels the words bubbling to the surface, the emotion pooling, red-hot behind his eyes, an answer burning at the back of his throat and clawing through his chest rough enough that the kisses you scatter from his cheek, to his jaw, to his neck do little to aid his wounds. But when he answers you, it’s tame. “I do tell you about things.”

“You do, but…” You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the space between it and his shoulder. “I’m just thinking about this game I used to play when I was a kid, sardines.”

His head tilts back against the back of the couch, and your breath dances along his skin while his hands smooth along the bumps of your spine. “Sardines?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “It’s kinda like…hide and go seek, but reversed. One of us would hide, and when someone found us, they’d squeeze into that spot too. And I remember being terrible at it, because we’d be making faces at one another in our little hiding spot, and I could never stop giggling, and I’d just expose everyone too soon.”

He chuckles quietly to himself. “I can picture that, you laughin’ while shoved in a closet.” His fingertips trace your shoulder blades.

“Pretty much how it went. Always too loud.”

“But I like hearing you laugh. I—I always feel better…gettin’ to see you all happy.” He’s thinking he got a little too caught up in the moment, and before you can say anything back, he asks, “What were you thinkin’ about the game, then?”

“It’s a little stupid to say it out loud,” you start.

“‘S not stupid, promise.”

You pause, hesitant. “…Okay.” One quick kiss to his neck before you continue, eyes closed to sink into him, “I just like to think that, eventually, you’ll let me in like…like it’s a game of sardines, or something. That I’ll just…squeeze in right beside you, and—and you’ll let me be there for you without pushing me away.”

He hums, low and drawn out to give you a beat to breathe.

“Sometimes I just want you to tell me what it is that’s bothering you, just to…make it easier on you a little bit, knowing someone’s in your corner. Just to be there.” Your fingers twirl into his messy curls and scratch at the nape of his neck the way he likes, and his silence drags on long enough to make you anxious.

But Carmen, too, is anxious. His chest is tight, his hands fidgety, and he’s sure—he knows, he feels it in his gut—that he needs to say something, anything. But he can’t find the words. They swirl in the back of his mind, and he can taste them crawling to the tip of his tongue, but they never become clear. They lurk where he can’t see them, and he keeps his thoughts on lockdown for you, because he’s been convinced along the way somehow in his decades of living that it’s easier, for him, if he keeps the softer parts stowed away, never to be seen again. He’s starting to think you’re trouble, that you make him softer where he grew to be tough. So it’s muffled and covered by his palms smoothing up your waist when he asks, “Sit up for me a bit, baby?”

And you listen, of course, because really you’re thankful he didn’t kick you out by now. Your vision is blurry from tears pooling in your eyes, but his hands—so, so gentle, the touch barely there like he thinks you could break—cup your jaw and urge you a little closer, his thumbs stroking your cheeks and wiping away stray tears. The two of you gravitate closer until your noses brush by one another and you exchange breath, until he leans into you and slots his lips against yours. He’s hesitant and careful, he doesn’t know if it’s quite the right thing to do or if it’s says what he needs it to, but when you prop your hands against his chest and kiss him back he knows part of you needs it like he does.

Both of you need it—that silent exchange, emotions spilled between sweet kisses and kind hands. So you stay that way, with Carmen’s hands holding you close to keep you from running away, and yours answer back I’m here, until he pulls away, eyes closed, to rest his forehead against yours.

He keeps himself blind when he whispers, “I know…” You can tell he’s mulling over his thought, so you wait for him to add, “I—I know, that you’re in my corner. An’ I want you there, alright?”

You try to soak in the feeling, so close and seemingly getting closer, a little breathless from his kisses as much as his words. “Alright.”

“I just—I just get so, so stuck in my head that I…” He swallows. “I can’t tell half the time if there’s anything even worth sayin’, I’m just spaced out ‘n…going fuckin’ crazy.” His brows furrow against yours. “I’m not used to stuff like this.”

“I know.”

His hands rest along the curve of your face a little firmer when he suggests, “But I can try—to, to, uh, tell you things, to let you in, or, or however you put it—I—” A deep breath. “I’m so fuckin’ bad at this, I’ve never done this, but—but I’ll try, for you, alright? You tell me, an’ I’ll try for you.”

You nod against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “I just—it’s just—I like this, y’know? Being with you, I like what we have, I—I like doing this, and—I wanna…I wanna make you happy. The same way you do for me…” He goes quiet and shakes his head a little, anticipating his next words. “I don’t wanna fuck it up.”

You can’t fight the smile that pulls at your lips, even if it is bittersweet. “You aren’t gonna fuck it up, okay? Being with you already makes me happy. I know you’re trying.”

“But trying isn’t…it’s not always enough, an’ I know in some ways—in a lotta ways, probably, I’m not…I—I’m not the best at saying things, an’—shit, am I—am I saying too much—?”

“No, Carm, no. I want you to keep talking.” You take his lips in another gentle kiss, your stomach whirring warm and content.

“I don’t really know what to say, or—”

“It’s okay,” you coo. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…if there was something else bothering you earlier…you can tell me.” You pull back a little to really look at him, running your fingers through his curls and making him gently close his eyes. “And I’ll just say okay, and then we can move on. I won’t say anything unless you want me to.”

He hums with his eyes still closed, his mouth in a smirk. “Mm, like sardines.” It’s a little snarky when he says it, but when his thumbs brush beneath your top, you know he’s just thinking over his options.

“Yes, like sardines.” You’re a little embarrassed, but also a little thankful that he followed the bit.

He waits for a few moments, just breathing, letting you smooth your hands through his hair and over his shoulders and down his chest. It’s calming, he realizes—simply existing in the same space, careful touches and brief kisses. He runs his palms from the back of your waistband to the plane between your shoulder blades and presses gently, urging you to lean against him once again. When your head rests against his chest, he takes in a deep breath through the nose and out the mouth. He watches the ceiling.

“There’s…” Another pause. “It’s not just the stove that’s botherin’ me.”

You don’t answer him, not even a hum to acknowledge he’s said anything, and he realizes that you were serious about the whole ‘not saying anything’ bit.

“I…fuck, I don’t even know how to say any ‘f this. I think…I think I’m just freakin’ out about…about everything. The restaurant…you…” There’s a long, heavy pause, a shaky breath. “An’—an’ that’s it, really, besides family I guess—which is really fuckin’ pathetic when I say it out loud.” A sniffle. “Real pathetic. But all I’ve had is fuckin’…fuckin’ cooking, an’ working, an’ dealin’ with my family ‘n fuckin’ Richie all my life—” His chest gets, tight, a hand leaves your back to run over his mouth. “God, an’ I am so fucked up,” he laughs.

You were already crying before, and the tears keep coming, streaming from your eyes to your cheeks and staining Carmen’s shirt. You’re not sure whether he even realizes.

“I’m fucked up, and you’re just—you’re so perfect, compared t’me, ‘cause you’re all smart, an’ you always know the right thing to say ‘n how to say it, an’ you’re just in a completely different world sometimes, an’ I want in—I wanna be able to do things for you, all of it, but—” He needs to catch his breath. He needs water. He needs sleep. His throat is sore and scratchy, he feels his pulse pounding in his forehead. “I’m just…scared…that—that I could fuck you up, too.”

His chest expands beneath you, and you’re shaking, biting at your lips to stifle sobs. Part of you wants to sit up and hold him close, tell him that he’s the perfect one and you’re anything but, that all he’s ever been is made for you, that maybe he is fucked up, but you don’t care because you love him all the same—you love him.

Carmen isn’t used to this reaction. He’s used to explosions, yelling, screaming, pointing fingers with hot tears, saying what he shouldn’t, saying what hurts, guilt smacking him across the face for years to come. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels your trembling and holds you that much gentler.

“Baby,” he starts, “Hey, lemme see you, you’re shaking—” He tries to peel you from his torso, prodding at your sides until you wipe at your eyes and sit yourself up. His hands reach to hold your wet face. “What—what’s wrong?”

You push his arms away. “Sardines, Carm.” You try to stay true to your word—that you’d take what he says, and only store it away—but you’d be lying if you said you’re not struggling to keep more tears at bay.

“I want you to talk to me. You said you’d talk if I wanted you to, I—I need you to talk to me, c’mon, please—”

“This is so wrong—I’m the one who should be comforting you—”

“Hey, hey hey hey—” He smooths a hand over your hair and presses kisses to the tear stains on your cheeks. “That doesn’t matter to me. That doesn’t matter to me, alright?” He holds you steady, waits for you to meet his eyes, and when you look at him, it’s like he can see right through you. His thumbs brush away your tears, and your breathing settles.

You sigh, your hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. “We’re such a mess.”

Carmen shakes his head, mind full of you as his eyes trail the contours of your face, the plush of your lips when your teeth bite at them. “Wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else.” His hands touch your waist again and ease you into him, buzzing with your soft curves in his grasp. It’s more than therapeutic, he thinks. Life-sustaining might be more accurate.

You nod, and your fingertips graze along his cheekbones before you plant a soft, yearning kiss to his mouth.

He kisses you again because he can’t help himself, and he might be too scared to look you in the eye when he says it, but eyes closed or not, he means it. “You’re so good to me.” His arms wrap around you again, addicted to feeling your weight beneath his skin, and he presses his lips to your jaw. “So fuckin’ good to me,” he repeats, lower than a whisper like it slipped by without thinking.

You card your hands through his hair, messily beautiful, and answer, “You deserve someone good,” just as quiet as he is.

He swears his heart stops, and his lips trail from your jaw down to your neck. “You’re too good to me,” he says again, with a bit more honesty in the change. He knows you, so he already knows what you’re going to say, and that any other time he’d deny it.

You hum, a warm smile curling the corners of your mouth as you pull him closer to your chest, grazing your lips by his hairline for a gentle kiss. “No such thing.”

And for the first time, with his arms wrapped tight around your waist with a gentleness reserved only for you, and with your body slotted against his, he really starts to believe it.

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dreaming-medium · 7 months

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 5

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Cockwarming - Felix

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: End of the quarter reports are due and somehow one of the calculations got messed up; it’s nothing you can’t do by hand. And luckily you have a preppy secretary who will stop at nothing to make sure you’re relaxed.

————————————————————

“Felix, can you bring in my incoming forms, please?” you say into the intercom on your desk.

“Right away, ma’am.” His deep voice answers you immediately through the speaker.

Leaning back in your large office chair, you cross one leg over the other and look out of the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall behind your desk.

Your arms cross over your chest and your bottom lip pulls between your teeth in deep thought.

Various different items on your to-do list for the day fly through your mind as you stare out over the Seoul skyline.

Partnership approvals, tax forms, time sheets.

Being the CFO for a large cooperation like this one was never easy. There was never a single day in the office that you weren’t busy. When you think about it, you can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation day.

Once you get this high in the corporate ladder, it’s supposed to get easier, that’s what you thought. It’s what you were told your entire life. But, now that you’re here, you see that it’s the exact opposite.

Every single day is filled to the brim with meetings, phone calls, and business lunches. It’s all chock full of fake smiles and forced laughter.

You worked your ass off to get to where you were now, and nothing was ever going to change that. Sleep be damned..

A gentle knock sounded through the room.

“Come in,” you call out, turning your chair to face the door.

The door opens and Felix walks in with a large stack of papers in his hands. His crisp white dress shirt is tucked into his navy blue dress pants, a matching tie around his neck. A pair of thick black glasses sat perched on his nose, face framed by long, perfectly kempt, blond hair.

“Your inbox, ma’am,” he says warmly, walking closer to your desk.

“Thank you, Felix.” You motion down to the empty desk in front of you. “You can just place them anywhere.”

He nods and gently places them on an empty spot on the wood.

“Do I have any more meetings for the day?” you ask him, flipping through the papers.

“No, ma’am.”

You run one hand through your hair tiredly. “Good, good.” A beat. “What time is my first meeting tomorrow?”

Felix reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen a few times before speaking up. “Ten o’clock.”

“Really? That’s the best news I’ve gotten all day.”

“Your 8:30 was rescheduled to the afternoon.”

“Now that makes sense.”

Your eyes tiredly flick over to the time on your desktop. “Jesus, Felix. Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?”

He shifts his weight on his feet. “Yes, but I don’t leave until you do.”

“I told you that you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s just in case you need me, you know?” A soft blush covers his cheeks, but you pay no mind to it.

“You’re putting these hours on your timesheet, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You sigh again. “Tomorrow is the day, isn’t it?”

“If you’re referring to the quarterly rebalance, then yes, it is.”

At the end of every quarter, you were in charge of verifying each analyst’s calculations and reading their predictions for the next one before presenting them to the board of directors.

Every single time you end up staying at the office until the wee hours of the morning.

Last quarter, you didn’t leave the office until two in the morning. And, like every quarter, Felix stayed with you.

“Well, then,” You put the forms back down on your desk and push your chair away to stand up. “I’m not going to bother with these tonight when I’ll be here until sunrise on Saturday.”

“Should I have your car brought around?”

“If you could, please.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Felix briskly leaves the room and you roll your head around your sore neck.

“Fuck quarterly rebalances.”

----------------------------------------

Your hand runs over your face for the millionth time in the last four hours. The numbers are starting to blend together at this point.

The analyses started coming in around 11 AM and since then you just haven’t stopped.

Line chart after line chart, spreadsheet after spreadsheet, everything looks the same now.

You’ve been hung up on one single data set. There’s a random spike in it for no reason at all. Why is there a spike in this calculation?

You cannot move on to the rest of the data until you get over this spike.

Blindly, you reach over to the phone on your desk and press the intercom button. “Felix,” you say after the beep.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you please patch me through to Seo Changbin? There’s no way this spike is correct.”

The sound of typing on a keyboard echoes over the line.

“Seo Changbin clocked out three hours ago, ma’am. Would you like me to ring his personal phone?”

“Three hours?” you ask incredulously and look down at the time. “Holy shit.” you murmur under your breath.

8:00 PM. It’s 8:00 PM.

“Ma’am?” Felix grabs your attention after a second of waiting.

You throw your glasses down onto the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. A headache has been resting behind your eyes all day.

“No,” you say after a few moments. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just run the numbers myself.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with for now, ma’am?”

You look around the room, the sun is setting over the skyline. A sigh leaves your chest.

It’s hard to believe you were working for nine straight hours on this. When was the last time you looked up?

“Have you eaten yet, Felix?” you ask, keeping your eyes outside.

“No, ma’am.”

“Order whatever you want, make it double. Put it on the corporate card.”

Felix’s deep laugh comes through the intercom. “Right away, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

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Two plus two is four, right? Yes, of course it is. Two plus two has always been four. They wouldn’t just change that suddenly, right?

But you’re so delirious that you still punch it in your calculator.

“Two plus two...” When the calculator says four, you stare at it. “To be honest, I was expecting something else with how tonight is going.”

Laughing at your own joke, you continue to re-input the numbers into the spreadsheet on your desktop.

A knock at your door pulls your attention.

“Come in!” you call out without looking up.

The door clicks open. “Delivery!” Felix’s cheery voice calls into your office.

You look up at your secretary with weary eyes. His mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” you groan and lean back in your chair. Your muscles scream from the movement and you grunt. “I just verified two plus two on the calculator.”

“Still four?”

“Surprisingly.”

“I think it’s time for a break, then.”

Peeking at the clock, it says it’s around 9:00 PM now.

With an apologetic smile, you look up at Felix. His white collared shirt is undone at the top, no tie around his neck. A plain pair of tight black slacks hugging his legs. He’s looking at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” you say while taking the takeout container from him. He just laughs.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all part of the job.” He shifts in place for a moment and turns and looks at the door.

“Where’s your food?”

“Oh, at my desk.”

“Why don’t you bring it in here? I’d love the company. Wayne can only do so much for my sanity.” You point at the house plant on your windowsill.

A little nametag on the front of the pot says ‘Wayne’ in cursive.

Felix’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Oh! Yeah! I’ll um… I’ll go grab it and be right back.”

You follow his lithe body as he rushes out of your office with one eyebrow raised.

Strange.

True, this was the first time you invited him to eat in your office with you. But it’s not like you ever had the opportunity to do so.

Typically, you ate in your office by yourself while still working. Truth be told, you had no idea when Felix’s lunch break was. He was always available when you needed him. Did he work through his lunch too?

Your secretary re-enters your office slightly out of breath.

“By the way,” he pants. “I had forgotten to order us drinks, so I got this out of the vending machine for you.”

He comes up to your desk holding out your favorite drink.

“Ugh, what would I do without you?” You smile and take the drink. “Pull a chair closer, you can eat on my desk too. It’ll get all over you if you try to balance it like that on your lap.”

Eagerly, he places his food on your desk and scoots forward. The redness in his cheeks deepened.

Soft lo-fi music is coming through your computer and filling the silence in the air. You crack open the takeout container and dig in.

It’s a stir fry. And stir fry has never looked this good in your life.

“This is so good,” you basically moan after taking your first bite.

“O-Oh, yeah? I’m glad you like it,” Felix stutters back and takes his own bite.

“It’s definitely much needed after today.” You whine and look back at your desktop.

“What’s going on with the numbers?”

“Based on what Changbin gave me, it says our internal earnings spiked massively this quarter. And yes, while this is great, it’s extremely abnormal. If this is true, I need to verify it before I can present it; otherwise, I’ll look like a fool.”

Felix listens intently to your explanation. “I don’t think you could ever look like a fool, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile at him. He grins back and suddenly it’s like the sun is back up. His pearly white teeth shine in the office light.

“You have such a pretty smile,” you compliment him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Felix squirms in his seat and looks down bashfully. The blush spreads all over his face. One of his hands comes up and rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

Chuckling softly, you turn back to your calculations.

The gentle, twinkling sounds of lo-fi beats do nothing to help calm the swirling confusion in your head.

Minutes pass and you’re staring at the same algorithm.

Your shoulders are slowly coming towards your ears with all the tension in your body. When you lean forward to use your keyboard, a burning pain runs through your back.

“Fuck.” Your hand flies up to grab where your shoulder meets your neck to massage it and roll your head around.

“Everything alright?” Felix asks.

“Yeah, I just get so stiff sitting at my desk while I work on the end of quarter stuff. Feels like my shoulders are on fire.”

No amount of massaging your own shoulders seems to be working, though.

Felix looks down at his food for a moment, then back up to you. His eyes shift away from you nervously.

“Before this job, I had gone to massage school for a few months. Would you like me to see if I can work those kinks out?”

Normally, you would say no. It would be so wildly inappropriate to have your secretary massage your shoulders while you work. Imagine if someone decided to walk in?

But now? When no one else is here and there’s no end in sight with these analyses?

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, unsure.

He seems to perk up a bit. “Not at all!”

Another moment passes while you weigh it in your mind, your lip pulls between your teeth before looking at him a bit sheepishly. “If you don’t mind…”

Felix is up on his feet, food immediately forgotten. It almost startles you how fast he’s up and around the back of your chair.

You had shucked off your blazer a few hours ago. Just your button up on, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to your elbows.

Felix stands behind you for a moment, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”

“Yes, actually.” Reaching down into your desk drawer, you pulled out an herbal lotion that your one friend had gotten you as a gift.

“‘Stress Relief’, huh?” Felix teases when you set it on the desk.

“A friend thought it would make a great gag gift with everything going on,” you laugh to yourself and stare back at your computer. “She didn’t realize how appropriate it was.”

Once more, Felix moves his hands around your back, his lithe fingers sweeping your hair off the back of your neck. Instead of keeping it down, you lean forward and grab a long pencil out of the cup and twirl it around your hair to then pin it up.

It’s a trick you learned back in college.

Felix watches behind you silently, his breath hitches slightly when he sees your hair settle all pinned up. Strands fall out of the bundle and frame your face and neck a bit.

It’s the most perfect messy hairstyle he’s ever seen.

Felix’s jaw clenches and he gulps, pulling himself together.

“Do you mind if I, ah– lower the back of your shirt a bit?”

“Yeah, here.” You’re already back in word mode; after looking at the sheer number of raw data littering the spreadsheet on your desktop, you were no longer focused on your secretary.

You unbutton more of the buttons and let your shirt slide off your shoulders a bit. Your cleavage was still covered– mostly.

Felix’s brain whites out for a split second and he has to physically force his brain to reboot. There’s a slight twitch in his pants at the sight of your naked shoulders. You’re always in those high-collared shirts, blazers, sweaters, so ungodly professional.

But your clothes are always so skin tight. Or you’ll wear a blouse like this one and a tiny little pencil skirt.

Felix leans down and pumps some lotion on his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up before setting his hands on your wonderfully smooth skin. It takes every fiber of his being not to let out a moan at the feeling.

His breathing picks up as he digs his thumbs into your muscles.

Immediately, you groan at the feeling. “God, that already feels so good, Felix.”

His name, you said his name, moaning nonetheless.

He can only make a noise of acknowledgement while he continues to work out the high strung muscles in your neck and shoulders.

Meanwhile, your brain is completely focused on your calculations. It’s so much easier to focus on everything when it doesn’t feel like your back is on fire.

Felix’s hands are absolutely magical. Everywhere he rubs loosens up underneath his strong, yet gentle, grip. He kneads right at the base of your neck and every knot slowly releases.

Small moans slip past your lips without realizing it.

And just because you don’t realize you’re moaning does not mean that your secretary hasn’t. Every single sound that comes out of your mouth goes straight to his dick. His slacks have tightened significantly, a tent pitching higher and higher each second.

He scolds himself internally. He knows he needs to pull it together, you’re his boss. You sign his paychecks. But fuck, knowing that you’re making those noises because of just his fingers is messing with his brain, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Felix runs over a particularly tight knot and you jump with a yelp.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely, keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you soothe his worry. “God, I already feel better. It felt like someone was stabbing flaming daggers into my shoulders.”

Your voice sounds somewhere else. Even though Felix has been your secretary for almost two years now, you’ve never spoken this casually with him. You were always professional, always so put together.

The work in front of you has you so consumed that you don’t realize how much your tongue is slipping.

It’s been like this the entire night. You’re too distracted to care.

“I can’t believe you chose to pursue this instead of continuing with massage school.” you continue.

“Well, I had originally gotten this job to pay for massage school. Then, when I got this position, I realized it paid more than being a masseuse ever would.”

You move your head around your shoulders, “Still.” you write down a string of numbers, click around on your keyboard, punch a formula into the calculator, then write something else down. “God, your fingers are fucking magical.”

Hearing you curse sent a lightning bolt down his back and Felix’s head is shot into the clouds. And you were complimenting him!

“I can’t imagine what else those fingers can do.”

Now he knows he’s dreaming. Did you really just say that? Did he hallucinate it? His fingers pause on your muscles.

Your own words must have sunken into your brain; your entire body goes rigid and you gasp, one hand flying over your mouth. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my god, Felix.” you say quietly, your tone is horrified. “Felix, I am so sorry, please. Oh, god.”

You can’t even turn around to look at him. It’s like ice water was injected to your veins. How could you have said that? He’s going to report you to HR! Who wouldn’t? You quite literally just harassed him in the workplace.

“I have no idea why I said that.” you sputter.

Say goodbye to everything you worked for. You threw it out the window by accidentally letting your tongue slip while he massaged your bare shoulders.

While you were apologizing profusely, you didn't feel him lean down until you heard his baritone voice was right next to your ear.

“I could show you.”

Like a zipper, pleasure shoots right up your spine. It makes you sit up straighter in your desk chair. Your mouth is suddenly so dry.

“W-What?” you stutter out, still looking down at your desk.

Felix is so close behind you that you can smell his cologne wrapping around your nose. It’s so fresh. It has a cotton-like musky smell to it. You’ve always caught whiffs of it when he came breezing through your office.

So many times you’ve found yourself leaning into the smell, and now here you have it so close to you.

“I could show you what these fingers can do, ma’am.” he purrs in your ear. Goosebumps raise all along the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end and a shiver creeps up on you.

His warm, slippery hands slide from your shoulders down your bare arms to grip them for a second before sliding back up. Felix reapers the motion a few times, letting his hot breath fan over your exposed skin.

“But,” the gravel of his voice makes your insides flutter. “You need to finish these calculations, ma’am.”

You hum in response, allowing your eyes to flutter closed and you lean back into his touch.

Felix chuckles under his breath. “I have an idea.”

----------------------------------------

Oh, it was a sinful fucking idea. Did he really think you were going to get any work done like this?

Felix had sat down on your desk chair, the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. At the same time, you can’t deny the wetness in your panties. It was getting worse and worse during that massage.

It’s only natural.

He grabs your hips and pulls your body towards him, his face level with your lower stomach. He looks directly up at you, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Those deep brown eyes staring up at you with a lustful haze covering them. Every freckle was highlighted on his face due to the blush covering his skin.

You bring one of your hands up to his face and softly caress his cheek, letting your fingertips dance over his skin. Felix leans into your touch; he turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.

“This is crazy,” you whisper down to him.

“The secretary sleeping with the boss is not a new concept, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, but it’s usually the other way around.”

One of your knees comes up and rests on the chair right in front of his crotch. Felix bites his lip and his eyes squint shut for a moment.

His hips stutter, you can tell he’s trying not to roll them to rub against your bare skin.

Your head cocks to the side and you smirk. “Come on then, I need you to be fully hard if I’m going to sit on your cock.”

One of the deepest moans you’ve ever heard pulls from deep within his chest. Felix’s head tilts back and his grip on your hips tightens. In a fluid motion, he gyrates his hips and you feel his cock press right against your leg.

A devious smile crosses your face, you move your hand down to grip his face tightly to bring his clouded gaze back to you.

“Come on then, Felix. You can do better than that.”

He whines and closes his eyes again, his hips stuttering and moving faster, harder. He parts his lips to begin panting. Each breath is hot and heavy, you can barely hear your music over it. The heat from his exhales goes right through your shirt.

Further and further, he descends into a subspace.

“Good boy,” you praise and it goes straight to his head.

Felix gulps and moves his hands around to grip your ass a bit.

In a quick movement, you rip your leg away from his hips.

Felix cries out and his eyes fly open to look at you with astonishment.

“Did I say you could touch me like that?” you hiss down at him.

“No, ma’am.”

Your head cocks to the side and you stare for a few seconds. “I need to get back to work already. Take your cock out.”

His eyes widen and he hesitates, not used to hearing such filth tumble from your lips. You tighten your grip on his face.

“I’m waiting, Felix.”

He’s then fumbling with his pants trying to fulfill your wishes. He’s practically scrambling. Why isn’t the zipper fucking working? Come on, come on.

Meanwhile, you drop his face and pull your skirt up around your waist, revealing your black lace thong. While still fumbling with his own pants, Felix moans, staring at the beautiful sight in front of him. It sounds like it’s punched out of him.

Teasingly, you hook your thumbs around the elastic band and drag it down your legs slowly.

Another whine comes out from Felix’s throat. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth at the sight of your pussy, acting like a starved dog.

“Please,” he pants, not able to tear his eyes away from it. “Just a taste. Just one. Please, ma’am, please.”

Smirking, you lightly slap his cheek twice. “You get three licks, honey.”

He can’t get his mouth on you fast enough. Felix wraps his lips around your glistening folds and runs his tongue up through your juices, collecting whatever he could on his tongue.

You both moan at the same time at the sensation.

“One…” you moan out.

Another lick pulls another moan. “Two!”

After the third lick, he swirls his tongue around your clit, making your knees feel weak. “Fuck! Three!”

You roughly grab his hair and yank his mouth away from you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes half lidded. It looks like you took a puppy away from its bowl.

His full lips glisten with your arousal.

“Sit back on the chair, hands to yourself.”

Felix reluctantly leans back in your chair, his cock at full mast and dripping with precum. His head is flushed red. He is painfully hard.

He rests both of his hands on the arm rests of the chair and keeps his lustful eyes on you.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you kick your panties off, heels staying on.

You turn around and grab Felix’s cock tightly. His hands tighten around the armrests with a gasp.

“Remember what I said, Felix. No touching.”

“Yes,” he pants.

“Say it, then.” you demand, hovering your pussy over his cock. You both can feel the heat of each other radiating off.

“No touchinggg—!” While he was talking you dropped down onto his length.

Both of you moan out loud, your head kicks back at the delicious stretch. God, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid. This job takes everything from you.

You roll your hips a few times, getting adjusted. With each movement, Felix lets out a noise: a whine, a grunt, a moan, a whimper, everything in between. He’s singing a chorus of pleasure in your ear.

“We have to get a little closer to the desk, Felix.”

It takes every ounce of strength, but your voice comes out even and Felix clocks that it’s your professional voice. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

Slowly, he rolls the chair towards the desk and you immediately return to your work. You snap back to it so fast it makes Felix whimper again.

Your heat is wrapped around him in the fucking best way. There’s no way he’s alive right now. For months he’s touched himself thinking about what you looked like underneath all those professional clothes.

You’re always so uptight, what if you just let loose for once? What would it be like?

Your pussy clenched down on him and Felix whines, throwing his head back. Oh, this was going to be torture.

Just until you finish verifying the calculation, that’s what you said. As soon as you verify the numbers, then you would let him have you.

“You just need to behave.” You told him.

How is he supposed to behave when you’re so fucking tight and wet around him? He can feel each breath you take.

Besides the fact that you’re surrounding his cock, your naked thighs are right there on top of his. He wants to grab them so hard it’ll leave his fingerprints in your skin, maybe it’ll bruise in the shape of his handprint.

Felix can’t help his hips bucking at the thought.

You clench again and moan. “Felix,” you warn.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, ma’am!”

Oh, you love that. You absolutely throb around him. Huh.

The soft hairs on the back of your neck tickle against his nose, he can still smell the lotion that he rubbed into your shoulders.

Felix is grabbing the armrests so tight his knuckles are turning white. His nails dig into the leather painfully.

He licks his lips nervously and he gets another taste of your arousal that was still on his skin. It makes his eyes roll back.

You adjust on his lap. The movement of your heat around him makes his head spin. The drag of your hot, soaking wet walls over his length is the most consuming feeling he’s ever felt.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Stop moving.”

A small sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Why no touching? Why couldn’t he snake his hand around and up your blouse? He could cup your tit and pinch and pull your nipples until you’re clenching around him so tight that he could scream. He could lick all the way up your neck and pull your earlobe into his mouth while he listens to you panting his name.

Why can’t he touch you? God, he just wants to touch you.

Here he was, living out his wildest wet dream, and he couldn't feel your soft, supple skin underneath his fingers.

Why can’t he turn your head and consume your lips with his own? Shove his tongue down your throat and suck on yours like it’s a piece of candy.

He should’ve taken his pants off. This way he would’ve been able to feel your juices drip down and soak his thighs. You’re so fucking wet he thinks he might die.

Felix’s eyes travel to the desk. He could absolutely bend you over the top. He could pull your hair and make you scream. He could make you forget all about–

“Aha!” When you scream, he jumps in surprise. His hips buck up and your pussy clenches around him. You both moan.

“Did you get it?” he pants out. His voice sounds so much weaker than he wanted it to; he sounds like he just ran two miles.

“Yes! He used net earnings instead of gross in one formula! Oh I am going to kill him.”

Thank the fucking lord. You figured it out. You did it, can he please please please–

Felix must’ve started thrusting up into you before he could even register the movements. His mind is so cloudly with lust that he can barely think straight.

“Easy, Felix.” you whine out through moans. He can just tell you didn’t want him to stop either. “Let me just finalize the chart and then–”

Felix cries out and then slumps his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “Ma’am, please, I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, ma’am?”

You hum and roll your hips ever so slightly. Just this slight amount of movement drives Felix insane. He whimpers loudly and his legs begin to shake underneath you.

“You have been a good boy, Felix. Why don’t I give you a reward?”

“Please.”

“Why don’t you let those pretty little hands roam until I’m done?”

“Thank you!” he cries out with a hoarse voice.

Immediately, his hands fly to your thighs and he grips the flesh tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you cry out under your breath, your walls clamping down on him tightly.

“Can I use my mouth, ma’am? Please please please please–”

“Yesss…” you hissed at him.

Felix attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck on the soft skin while his hands wander up your body.

One hand goes right under your shirt and pulls your bra down. Those magic fingers pinch your nipple.

Every reaction your body has envelopes him in the most amazing way. He can feel everything your body likes. He can feel how you like when he rubs around your nipple rather than pinching it. He can feel how much you love when he uses his thumb to play with your tit while his mouth bites at your neck and hit other hand teases your soaking wet folds.

“Felix…” you warn. It’s all empty, though. Your typing has completely stopped, work has been forgotten.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, ma’am.” He moans when you tighten. “Let me make you feel good, ma’am. Let me be such a good secretary.”

With the gentlest of touches, Felix plays with your clit. Just with that soft touch, your body spasms around him.

“I can make your body sing, ma’am. Let me be of service to you.”

Another gentle pinch of your nipple. It’s going straight to his head how he can feel how much you’re fighting him.

“Don’t you want to cum around my cock, ma’am?”

You break. “Please.” you whine out.

It’s enough for him.

Both of his arms tighten around your body, his feet plant firmly on the floor and he begins fucking up into you like his fucking life depends on it.

He turns into something of a fucking animal with how he’s rutting his cock into your sopping wet heat. He thrusts so hard and so fast, you think he might go through you.

His teeth bare for a moment from the exertion, but he bites down where your shoulder meets your neck.

Your head throws back onto his shoulder. Felix grabs your entire tit to anchor his hold, his thumb brushing over the nipple over and over, each one sends a ripple of pleasure through you.

His other hand rubs harder at your clit, you clamp even tighter over him. Both of you grunt and groan. There is no silence in your office; is the music even playing anymore?

You turn your head to look at him. “Kiss me, Felix.”

He captures your lips without a second thought. It all feels so fucking deliciously good. He sucks on your tongue just like he always wanted to.

Your mouths glide over one another sloppily, spit getting everywhere on your mouths.

With each thrust, each flick, each rub, your orgasm gets closer and closer.

Felix shifts his hips a bit and hits your g-spot so hard you cry out into his mouth, he swallows the noise.

“You’re so fucking tight, ma’am. I can feel you clenching so hard. You’re close, aren’t you?”

All you’re able to do is nod. He’s stimulating you so much that you can’t find your voice.

“Fuck!” he cries out, “Fuck fuck, give it to me, please. Please cum for me, ma’am.” His voice is so low, it's so hoarse from arousal.

A particularly hard thrust launches you over the edge, your orgasm seizes every inch of your body. Felix keeps going, fucking you right through your orgasm.

Deep, guttural moans come from his chest as your body begins to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated as he gets closer to his own peak.

“Cumming, cumming, cumming!” he shouts and bites your neck again.

Felix spills within you, his hips sputter and he continues to talk through it.

“So good, fuck, thank you, thank you. So fucking good, fuck, oh my god.”

The room begins to settle, both of your pants becoming softer than the music. Felix holds you close to his chest still, not letting you go.

Your eyes flicker to your desktop.

“... I’m only halfway done. Your cock isn’t going anywhere.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader

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eiightysixbaby · 1 month

Note

begging for some more older! eddie maybe us out late at a bar let’s have him be jealous and mean😈😈

ohhhhh bestie I can do that 👀

18+ only!!! allusions to smut, mean eddie but he’s just worried about you, jealous eddie, mentions of reader drinking alcohol

Eddie spots you the second he enters the bar. The whole place is sleazy, shitty music blaring in his ears as he pushes through the inebriated crowds. He can feel his boots sticking to the floor as he walks and the air feels thick with the heat radiating off of these strangers’ bodies.

You’re leaning against the bar, your elbows propped up on the probably-filthy countertop as you chat with the bartender. You flip your hair slightly, shifting your weight where you stand and wobbling slightly in your high heels. Definitely tipsy.

Your skirt is obscenely short, and the problem Eddie has with this is that you’re wearing it now, in front of these other men, when you blew him off.

Unable to get ahold of you, he’d been an anxious mess at home. He knew you were going out with friends but you’d promised you’d be at his place by 10. It’s 12:15.

His jaw clenches when he doesn’t see a single one of your friends around, and the way the bartender keeps smiling at you makes him want to punch the guy’s teeth in. He stomps up behind you, a firm hand gripping your arm and turning you to face him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, the anger in his face. You’d fucked up, letting your phone die and not getting in touch with him. Staying out later than you’d said you would.

“I think you’re done here,” he says, and it’s not a question or a request or a joke. It’s a command, an order. You are done here, and we’re going the fuck home.

“Eddie-ee,” you hiccup, trying to keep some composure but failing with the alcohol in your system.

“You’re fucking wasted. Are you fucking kidding me, honey? It’s nearly half past midnight and I haven’t heard a thing from you.” His voice is firm, gruff as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“Is there a problem here?” the bartender asks, and Eddie seriously contemplates the consequences of beating this guy’s ass.

“Yeah, you. She’s not interested, pal. And she’s certainly not going home with you tonight,” he barks, yanking you away before the nuisance can respond.

“I’m sorry, Ed, my phone—”

“It died, right? Because you didn’t charge it even though I asked you to fucking charge it before you left,” he grits, and you look down at the floor in shame. He asked you one simple thing, and you neglected to do it. You won’t say it, but he has every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was!? When I couldn’t get ahold of you? Knowing you were out drinking?” Eddie asks, guilt clawing at your insides.

He shoves open the door to the bar, ushering you out into the parking lot. You shiver at the chill in the air, far colder out than it had been when you’d arrived.

“Nothing bad happened, Ed, I’m fine,” you stress, but he’s having none of it.

“But it could have!” he barks, his voice stern and louder than he usually ever speaks to you. “Sure looked like you were having fun entertaining that bartender,” he scoffs.

You grimace, suddenly sobering up rapidly. You hadn’t been flirting with the guy, but it couldn’t have looked good from Eddie’s perspective. You do tend to get overly friendly when you drink, talkative and chipper.

“We were just talking, I had ordered a drink!” is what comes out of your mouth, for reasons unbeknownst to you. You’d meant to quell his suspicions, but instead you sound petulant and defensive.

“Just fucking talking,” he chuckles, albeit humorlessly. “Don’t think he thought you were just talking, sweets.”

He opens the passenger door of his vehicle, slamming it behind you after you get in. The way he forces the key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot makes your stomach churn. You make it to his place in record timing, the entire ride silent. He doesn’t open the door this time, or help you out of the car. Your feet ache in your heels and your hands wring together as you walk to his front door.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say meekly, standing helplessly in his living room as he regards you out of his peripheral.

You see the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, and he brings one hand up to rub at his chin, the gray and brown scruff that litters the skin.

“You had me worried fucking sick,” he says, emphasizing this. He walks toward you until the backs of your thighs are hitting the arm of the couch. “I need you to follow rules, baby. All I asked was that you charge your phone,” his eyes don’t look away from yours for even a second, making sure you’re listening.

You nod, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. He smells like his cologne and a hint of tobacco, a scent so familiar and comforting to you. You wonder why you’d wanted to go out tonight at all, when he’s been here all along.

He steps even closer, resting a hand on your hip possessively. “And don’t even think about chatting up anymore bartenders,” he warns, his mouth hovering beside your ear. “Got it?” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I won’t,” you agree, knees nearly buckling when an index finger reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Now why don’t you take these clothes off and go get on the bed for me, pretty girl. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #leah’s got mail 💌

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narraboths · 7 months

Text

“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.)

#supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic

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monzamash · 1 year

Text

itch — charles leclerc

charles leclerc x you (femreader) | 2.9k summary – spotting charles' weight session in your home gym. that's it. warnings – 18+ (sex, course language) a//n – had to re-upload because the tags glitched out but here's the second fic in the #monzamash special x

The soft, distant thrum of music playing was the only sound travelling through your otherwise peaceful home. You had set yourself up for a quiet afternoon with a glass of iced tea, catching up on work that you’d missed while travelling to a couple of races, watching your boyfriend do his thing. Charles always gave you the VIP treatment, making sure your time away from your life was worth it and of course it was. But nothing could beat the summer break at home in Monaco, with him by your side for a change.

Just as you settled into the couch, an almost finished lemon popsicle in hand and your laptop steadied on your lap, you heard your name being called from the other end of the house. The voice echoing through the hallway belonged to Charles and there was a part of you that wanted to pretend like you hadn't heard him, feeling way too comfy and in the zone to get up again if it wasn’t important.

That was until you heard your name again, a little louder this time and you knew that you couldn’t ignore him. Your man was persistent and even though you loved your time with him during the break and over the off-season, it did become apparent that when he was home, he always wanted you close by to talk to. Like he was trying to make up for lost time but he forgot that even though he had time off, your work life continued much to your dismay.

But you were both working on finding the right balance.

"Where are you?" You shouted back and pulled yourself out of your spot on the couch, on a mission to track down your needy but ridiculously cute boyfriend.

You followed the music, figuring that he must’ve been in the home gym he’d set up a couple of winters ago. The new Coldplay album was playing on the sound system, echoing off the mirrors that lined the otherwise blank walls. It was a messy sight as you walked in – yoga mats that you’d left behind sprawled out on the ground while Charles sat hunched over, scrolling on his phone with his legs hanging over each side of the bench press that was sitting in the middle of the naturally lit room.

He was quick to notice your presence in the door way and chucked his phone onto one of the many towels neatly folded up on the shelf behind him, "Could you spot me, please? Because I nearly killed myself with this weight."

You swear you were listening but you couldn’t help but take a second to drink in his appearance, suddenly feeling a hot flush wash over your chest. He was sans shirt and glistening with sweat, which would’ve been enough to fuel your desires but the tight short shorts and the hair sticking to his forehead was what really got the endorphins running. And as much as you could’ve stared at him for the rest of your days, the last thing you wanted was for Charles to notice how flustered you were by his appearance.

"If that thing is going to fall on your face, there's no way my twig arms are going to stop it," You scoffed, eyeing at the weights behind his head with concern.

"You just have to push it off me so it doesn't crush my chest," He shrugged with a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, far too nonchalantly for your liking.

"Oh right – just casually save my boyfriend from being crushed to death. Cool…" You sarcastically retorted while Charles wiped his hands on his shorts and scooted underneath the bar, back squeaking as it stuck to the faux leather.

"Just come and stand behind my head, baby," He sweetly directed and you sighed softly, knowing that he was going to keep lifting the stupid thing anyway and you would much rather be there if anything did happen.

So you shuffled around to where he’d settled himself on the bench, feet and shoulders with the part, ready to save the day if you needed to. Well, kind of ready because the view from where you were standing was not only magnificent but wildly distracting.

“Atta girl.”

Charles’ strong hands gripped the bar and lifted it carefully off the stand, flickering his eyes to each side and making sure they were securely off before bringing it down towards his tensed chest. The grunts that left his throat as the muscles and veins in his arms bulged under his taut skin sounded exactly like the noises he was breathing in your ear last night as he fucked you into the next dimension, the sound immediately transporting you back to the way his hands felt on your supple skin.

His tight chest puffed out in time with his sharp hips that bucked off the bench with each rep and the groans leaving his lips were making it difficult to keep an eye on the job, even though a part of you wondered whether this was all a ploy to get you in here and see this glorified soft core in session. Knowing Charles, it was almost definitely the latter.

"Okay two more," He huffed out, lifting the bar up and down a couple more times, concentration stitched into his sticky forehead.

The grunts got louder the closer he was to finishing the set, again casting your mind back to your night between the sheets, before he slowly pushed it up towards the stand and let your fingers hook around the bar, just in case it slipped out of his slick hands. Because every part of his body was perspiring – his biceps, thighs, neck, chest, the bridge of his nose that was achingly close to your core was glistening and so were you, from doing absolutely nothing. Dripping.

Charles sat up with a groan and took a couple of deep breaths, blood pumping through his veins as you watched the muscles on his rippling back contract, “You’re soaked – let me grab you a towel.”

This was your chance to try and shake the daze you were in. It was pathetic the way he wound you up without even knowing, hypnotising you with something as innocent as a workout. Maybe it was because you had been blissfully enjoying each other’s touch the second he dropped his luggage in the doorway, jumping into bed and hardly leaving it ever since.

Or because he was the sexiest creature you’d ever seen and seeing him gleaming with sweat and groaning like an animal was a massive turn on for you. Either way you were soaking after his performance, desperate to have those sounds breathing down your neck as soon as humanely possible.

He graciously took the towel you were offering with a wicked smile, wiping his flushed face and roughly drying his hair before spinning around 90 degrees on the bench, gazing up at you with the same smile but now with that devious sparkle in his eye that always had you hook, line and sinker.

"Merci."

It rolled off his tongue too perfectly and you couldn’t control the eye roll, knowing how much he loved teasing you in French. He also loved how quickly he could get you naked when he spoke in his native tongue, the mischievous smirk and his Monegasque charm leaving you spellbound.

"Any time," You sang in reply, attempting to leave the room before you combusted on sight but you were stopped by a fistful of fingers grasping the hem of your black cotton shorts.

Charles gently pulled you back, a hole already burnt into the material from his eyes zeroing in on your curves. He loved every inch of you, worshipped the air you breathed and pinched himself daily that you’d stuck around with his crazy stupid schedule and maniacal whims. God, he adored you and ached at how effortlessly beautiful you looked in your matching crop top and shorts, waltzing around the home you had built together.

And he couldn’t hide the way he felt when you looked around, bottom lip clamped loosely between his front teeth, chewing the inside of his cheek and admiring how fucking lucky he was to have such a beautiful creature in his grasp. Heaven sent.

"You look very cute today."

He was smitten; holding your hips in place as you slung your arms around his shoulders. His hands subconsciously trailed down to the back of your thighs and teased the thin hem on your shorts, fingertips melting into the skin like butter as he watched your gorgeously bright eyes narrow.

"I'm not wearing a bra just for you," You flirted, nudging closer to his chest and needing more than just the heat from his hands on your skin.

"I can see that," He hummed matter-of-factly as he gazed over the sheer top that had been driving him crazy all day, adoring the way your nipples hardened at his stare before pressing a peck to the bottom of your sternum.

Charles continued trailing soft kisses across your stomach as you brought your hands to his tousled brown hair, trawling your fingertips through the damp locks and massaging his scalp. A soft, barely audible whimper slipped from his lips as he tilted his head back and caught your eyes, succumbing to the drowsiness and closing them for a quiet moment.

"That feels so nice."

He practically whispered before opening his eyes and pulling you closer with his hands that were now hidden under your loose top, fingertips following the arch of your spine as you leaned down and captured his soft lips. He tasted salty, tongue deliciously warm as you explored his mouth with your own. You loved the way he inhaled you and swallowed the moans he was causing. The intimacy you shared with him never seized to make you weak in the knees, putty in his hands.

"I wanna watch you fuck me in this mirror."

Your words were muttered against his pursed lips and Charles’ eyes were wider than a flying saucer when you pulled back ever so slightly, noses bumping together from how close you still were. He huffed out a soft laugh as you nodded towards the mirrors lining the walls around you both, eyeing your reflection beside him.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, a humorous expression ascending onto his blushing cheeks as you returned the raised brow, confused by his question.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" You scoffed, the deadpan look never faltering from your face and causing his goofy smile to fall; finally realising you were being serious.

"Well... no you don't but... Do you want me to do you against the mirror or on here?" Charles asked frowning down at the bench before bouncing up and down on it to make sure it was sturdy enough for your spontaneous demand.

"I don't really care," You almost moaned, smoothing your hands across his strong chest and over his tense shoulders, leaning down and pressing your lips to his damp neck again.

"I don't wanna risk breaking this because it was the last one at the shop so I guess we could do it against the mirrors…”

The hesitation in his voice caused your brows to furrow in disappointment and your hands to drop from his shoulders as you stood up straight, looking down at your boyfriend with a frown.

"Jeez, don't get too excited about it."

The sarcasm was dripping from your tone as Charles shook his head fervently, quickly reaching out to pull you back. All he could think about daily was making love to you in different places in the house and shockingly, the home gym hadn’t been ticked off the list but god, did he want to. He was already twitching thinking about it, the tightness of his shorts already cutting off circulation to his legs.

"No, no. Baby, look at you – I am so excited but you caught me off guard and I was just trying to think… what’s the word? Logically… Logistically…”

"It’s logistically but honey – you called me in here and made me watch you gyrating and make sex noises, and then you told me I look cute and now you're caught off guard that I want to have sex with you?... Are you okay?" You joked, pressing the back of your hand against Charles’ sticky forehead, pretending to check if he had a temperature or if he even had a pulse at all.

He laughed, borderline giggled and shook his head, "Well, when you say it like that, it makes sense. I just didn't think you'd get turned on over that."

You couldn't help but laugh in his face at his assumption, "You're shirtless and sweaty and wearing shorts that are so tight that I can see your dick... There's no way you didn't think this would get me going."

You wagged your finger up and down his body and Charles simply shrugged, hardening by the second, "It didn't even cross my mind but if it's getting your going then let's fucking go!"

Charles slapped his hands down on his lap and immediately reached for the drawstring on your shorts. “These are definitely coming off…” He murmured, eyes narrowed in concentration as he slid them down your legs.

"I promise if we break the bench, I will personally call every single shop in Monaco and replace it.”

You stepped out of the cotton material around your ankles, grasping Charles’ shoulders for balance as he tugged on his own shorts; finally liberating himself of the constriction caused by his own unadulterated arousal. He had no control when it came to you.

"Jeez, you are horny," Charles teased as you climbed on top of him; his tactile hands guiding your knees to each side of his thighs with a devilish grin.

He was in his element with you on top of him; he had the perfect view of his girl and he could feel how ready you were for him when you rested on his thigh, your slickness cool against his soft skin. He loved how dialled in you were to his touch, every little wince or mumble making his heart pound harder in his chest – blood rushing to his dick every time you whispered in his ear.

But he knew that you knew how much he craved having you like this so of course he teased you in spirited retaliation, like any man desperately in love does to the one he adores the most.

“You know that if you ever need to get some inspiration, you can always come in and watch me work out, baby. You like it a lot, huh?”

"I do and I intend to enjoy this so shut up."

Now he was really hard, worked up beyond his limits.

As a distraction from his edge, he went back to what he did best – kissing you. You were both as pent up as each other, embarrassingly desperate for two people who had been going at it hammer and tong all weekend but you couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until the firm grip on your hips tightened even more that you finally felt how enthusiastic he was about fucking you in his gym.

"You taste like lemons," Charles mumbled as your tongues collided.

You couldn’t mask the smirk on your lips as he kissed you again, reaching down and massaging him over his boxer briefs. You pulled away slightly from the kiss, ghosting his swollen lips as you softly stroked him in your hand.

"I bet if you'd seen me eating that popsicle, you would've felt the same way as I did watching you lift those stupid weights," and Charles chuckled at your annoyingly accurate theory, his warm breath fanning over my face before seizing your lips again, wiping that smirk on your sweet lips.

"I probably wouldn’t have lasted, let's be absolutely honest, ma belle," He whispered back with a knowing smile, completely unashamed to be enamoured by the woman slowly stoking him, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure surging through his body.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

Charles simply smiled, eyes barely open as he watched your bodies connecting in the most intimate way, tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip in preparation for your kiss. As you gripped him tight in your hand and bottomed out on his achingly hard cock, you pressed your lips to his, forced to swallow the loud moan falling from your lips.

l' attente, you whimpered before a sharp inhale caused Charles’ eyes to shoot up to your closed ones, searching your face for any pain.

"You good?" He asked softly but swiftly with his hands firmly placed on the outside of your thighs, gently holding you in place until you have him the okay to move his hips.

"So good," You breathed, tilting your neck back and arching your spine to change the angle a little, feeling that sweet spot deep inside you being brushed ever so gently, “You feel amazing right there.”

Once you both hit that toe curling, achingly good rhythm that you had perfected together, Charles rested his chin on your shoulder and watched how mind-numbingly hot you looked riding him in the mirror, his hands firmly grabbing your ass and spreading you out like a meal he was desperate to devour.

"My god..." He growled as you looked down and followed his eye line, biting your puffy bottom lip when you realised he was watching himself disappear inside you, every inch taken care of. And you too, were groaning at the sight.

“You look gorgeous riding my dick, baby.”

"We look sexy," You were quick to correct, breathless from both the sight of Charles’ large, veiny hands leaving prints on your backside and his relentlessness to have you losing your goddamned mind on his dick.

Both had you twisted in knots, the pit in your stomach tightening with every thrust and all you could do was thank whoever had invented weight training because boy, were you reaping the benefits now. Sex in your home gym – tick.

+ + +

parlez-vous français? (the sequel to itch)

a//n – i had so many asks for 'you're soaked' with baby boy charles so i hope you liked this quick, mostly naughty piece x next on the schedule is danny ric, i believe and i'm horny just thinking about the idea i have for him so stay tuned x masterlist | askbox

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #formula 1 #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #charles leclerc x reader #f1 one shot

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suppose-i-was-worm · 9 months

Text

Like A Lamb

**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**

John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.

Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.

He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.

John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.

The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.

How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?

John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.

With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.

The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.

He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.

~~~

Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.

“What do you think it is, Danny?”

He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.

“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”

For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.

The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.

That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.

Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.

“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”

“Adopted?”

“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”

Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.

“Why did he- what made him do that?”

Pandora ruffled his hair.

“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”

~~~

“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”

Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.

“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”

“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”

John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.

He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.

Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?

“Fine. What are the details?”

Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.

“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”

“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”

The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.

As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.

The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.

The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.

This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.

Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.

And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.

“Hi.”

The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.

“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”

Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”

“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”

Bless Diana.

“Can you leave the circle, young one?”

The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.

“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”

John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #john constantine #eldritch danny #dp x dc crossover #ghost king danny

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verstappen-cult · 1 month

Note

Hi! I saw you taking request for Max and I just got this idea for a scenario where Max and reader got into a fight so the reader opted to drive on their own and got into an inchident nothing serious or whatever floats your boat HAHAHAHA just looking for angst Max

Max was trying to call you to when he received the call that made his world stopped.

You’ve been in an accident.

He can still hear the nurse talking through the phone as he grabs his keys and flies out of his apartment. He doesn’t understand a single thing the woman says because all he can think about is you, and how things were between you two when you decided to go out.

Max feels stupid. He doesn’t even remember what your fight was about anymore. If it was something important it doesn’t matter; you’re all that matters.

He arrives at the hospital in record time and is pretty sure he will receive a ticket for running red lights.

Max hates hospitals. And now that you’re here, he hates them even more.

“Hey, hello?” He walks to the counter where he can see a few nurses. He’s shaking and feels like crying, he needs to see you right now. “My girlfriend had an accident. Her name’s Y/N.”

The nurse smiles softly at him and grabs a notebook. “Are you related to her?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Max taps his fingers on the counter, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Can I see her, please? I really need to see her.” Max doesn’t care if he comes across as whiny and annoying, he just wants to see you.

The nurse's expression is one of pity as she nods and guides him to your room.

“The doctor will be with you in a few minutes.” She says before turning around and leaving.

Max stares at the door handle for an eternity, feeling nervous and worried. He doesn’t know how you are going to react. You were pretty angry when you left.

Well, he doesn’t care how angry you are. If you want to scream and push him away you have every right to do it, but he won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.

When he opens the door his heart stops beating.

You have a gauze on your temple and your bottom lip is a little swollen, but he doesn’t see any more injuries, which is good.

You meet his gaze and everything happens in slow motion; you start crying, repeating his name between sobs as you open your arms. Max doesn’t hesitate and runs towards you, being careful to not hug you so tightly, even though that’s exactly what he wants to do.

“I’m sorry, I’m so—so so-rry.” You cry against his chest and Max's heart breaks a little more.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Max doesn’t know if he tries to reassure you or him. “Where does it hurt? Are there any more injuries or bruises?”

You shake your head, pulling away and wiping your tears. “No, just my head, really. My side hurts a little but nothing more.” Max cups your face, his own vision blurry due to the tears threatening to slide down his cheek. “It wasn’t big but… your car was actually the one that suffered all the damage.”

Max didn’t think about that. He didn’t even remember you had taken his car in the first place.

“That doesn’t matter.” You open your mouth to complain but he shuts you up with a kiss to your forehead. “I was so scared. I thought I’ve lo—”

“Hey,” You take his hand, squeezing tightly. “I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“It was a stupid fight.”

You smile, eyes softening. “It was, yes.” You place a kiss on his knuckles. “Would you lie down with me? I want you to hold me, please.”

Max waits for you to move and climbs in the hospital bed. It’s very tiny and uncomfortable but he doesn’t care, not when he can feel you and know that you are okay. You rest your head on his chest, sighing.

“I want to kiss you,” You confess, looking up at him. “but my lips hurt so bad.”

Max grins, his soul returning to his body.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #f1 imagine

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lyjen · 2 months

Text

When you’re home

A request by @shauna-carsley ☺️

Summary: She always texts or calls him when she’s home safe. But when she doesn’t, Evan gets worried. Until he goes on a call and meets her there. But not in the way Evan hoped to see her.

9-1-1 Masterlist

………………………………………………………………………………

“Yes, I did bought you cocoa powder like you asked me to. But you do realise it’s a little bit too hot outside to be drinking hot chocolate right?” (Y/n) said as she walked through the exit of the grocery store. Her phone was in her right hand, holding it to her ear. While a paper sack filled with groceries was resting between her body and her left arm.

Evan chuckled through the phone at her words. “Yeah I know. It’s not for hot chocolate though.” He answered her question. A confused frown appeared on her face as she continued to walk down the street. “Well.. Are you gonna tell me why you made me buy it?” She asked him. “Hmm. You know what? No, you’ll see it for yourself tonight.” Evan’s voice answered back. “Wh-“ As (y/n) wanted to react at what Evan told her, she hears a loud alarm through the phone. “Oh, shit. Gotta go. What did you want to say?” his voice sounded through the phone.

A soft chuckle left her mouth as she shook her head at Evan’s sudden rush in his voice. Somehow, whenever Evan was on shift and called with (Y/n) on the phone, the alarm would go off.

“Nothing, just.. be careful, and I love you.”

A smile appeared on Evan’s face when she said those exact words. It made his heart melt right on the spot, just like it did when she said it the first time about 10 years ago. They met when they went to high school together. In senior year, to be exact.

As Evan wants to say something to end the call, he hears a familiar voice calling his name. “Buck! Quit chit chatting with my sister, we’ve got to go!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the station. “Yeah, yeah! I’m coming Diaz!” He yells back at his best friend. He hears (Y/n)’s giggle through the speaker of his phone which he was holding against his ear. He sighs.

“I love you too. I’ll see you tonight. Text me when you’re home, okay?” Evan says. He always wanted to make sure that she’d get home safe. Even if it was just a small text that contained an emoji of a house, or the exact words, or just a phone call. “Hmm, I will... be safe out there.” and with those words she clicked on the red button to end the phone call.

(Y/n) locked her phone again and put it into the small shoulder bag she had with her. It couldn’t hold much, but held the necessary things such as her: phone, wallet and keys. That was enough. She readjusted the weight she was holding between her body and her left arm, and switched it to her right arm. That was the arm that had more strength and endurance.

She continues her way home, which was maybe fifteen to twenty minutes away. She passes by street after street in the LA weather. (Y/n) comes to a stop when she clicks the button to turn the pedestrian traffic light to green. She waits for a few seconds, but when the lights jumps from red to green, she steps with her feet on the asphalt and starts walking towards the other end of the pedestrian crossing.

She hears the sound of squealing tires coming from not too far from her. Her head shot towards her right, as she sees the source of the sound turning around the corner with a rapidity definitely above the speed limit. The car was swinging from the left to the right like it was possessed. (Y/n) has no time to react to what is happening.

But before she knew it, the bag with groceries was blown out of her right arm and she was facing the blue sky.

Her ears are ringing. An annoying high frequency noise is ringing through her ears. (Y/n)’s vision was blurry and partly overexposed. It was like someone was shining a flashlight in her face, and wouldn’t turn it off. She could hear muffled voices, but she couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying. It was like her ears were underwater. Her head felt like it was beating out of her skin.

She squeezes her eyes shut to try and let her eyes get used to the bright light. But it wouldn’t stop. Until a figure starts hoovering over her body.

Evan hopped down the steps of the truck following Eddie out. His mouth left a sigh, as he shrugged off his florescent jacket and hang it underneath his last name. Before he could let go of his jacket, the loud alarm rang again through the firehouse. His eyes closed as he sighs again. “Ah come on!” he says with a defeated look. He just wanted to take a shower. He felt dirty, his body was sweating, his face was full with ashes from last call.

He could hear Eddie laughing at his reaction. “Okay who said the Q-word?” Evan says as he looks at every person around him now. They didn’t answer, they just put on their jackets and hopped back into the truck. Evan sighs as he rips his florescent jacket from the hook and also took place in the truck.

The drive was quiet. Everyone was tired from last call, they wanted to eat, drink and relax for a bit. “Somebody must have said the Q-word. Otherwise this would not have happened.” Evan says, still sure of his conclusion. Nobody reacted to his words, Evan looked around him in the back of the truck. Waiting for someone to respond to him. “Ravi.” Is the only thing what left Eddie’s mouth. “Yeah I know right! It must’ve been him! I told hi-“ Evan reacts. “No. Ravi.” Eddie cuts him off as he points outside the window.

When the truck came to a stop, they immediately left the rig. Evan saw Ravi walking towards Bobby. “Buck, Eddie, stand by. Hen and Chim follow me.” Bobby ordered. Eddie and Evan had to stay back because if they needed equipment, it was faster. Instead of them running back and forth.

Evan in the meanwhile had now time to check his phone. He let his back fall against the truck as he grabs his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks his screen to take a look at his notifications. “Hmm” he made a think-full noise. Eddie lets himself fall with his back against the truck too. “What’s up?” Eddie asked when he heard Evan’s confused sound. “Before our last call, I was calling with (Y/n).” Evan started. “Yes.. and?” Eddie answered with a confused look projected on his face. “I always tell her to text me when she gets home. But it has been.. what?.. One hour since we called and she still hasn’t texted me.” He tells with a worried voice. “Maybe she went to another store? Or simply forgot.” Eddie tries to calm him down before he makes any other conclusions like the Q-word from a few minutes ago. “Eddie, Buck, I need a backboard and another medic bag here.” He hears Bobby’s voice through the radio. “Copy that cap.” Eddie answered Bobby through his radio, and he patted his hand on Evan’s shoulder.

He nodded. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe Evan was just seeing things that weren’t there. He clicks on the on/off button to lock his phone again and let it slide back into his pocket. He opens the compartment to slide out the backboard while Eddie gets the medic bag. As suddenly Bobby is walking towards Buck and Eddie.

“Something wrong cap? Do you need anything?” Buck asks, while he closes the compartment. “I think you both may want to sit this one out.” Is the only thing Bobby says. A confused look spreads over Evan’s and Eddie’s face. Bobby never said that to him. The only time he said that was when he got back from revalidation, after the fire truck accident. Evan and Eddie look at each other, asking each other without any words what the hell was going on. “Uhm.. why?” Evan asks Bobby. As he looks to his side to try and peek at the scene. “You both are too personal involved at this call, I’m just trying to look out for you.” Bobby says.

Too personal involved? What did that mean? Who was close to Eddie and him? The question was ringing through Evan’s head while Eddie was talking with Bobby now. Until it hit him. Literally a minute ago he was talking about his girlfriend, his guts were telling him something wasn’t right.

Shit.

Bobby ends the conversation with both Eddie and Evan and turns to walk away. When Evan stops him in his movement by grabbing his arm. “Is it (Y/n)?” Evan asks with a trembling voice as he lets go of his captains arm. Bobby’s eyes shot from Eddie to Evan. And softly nodded his head. “Yes. It’s (Y/n).” He confirms.

Evan felt like the world was suddenly on fire and broke down piece, by piece.

Evan grabbed the backboard he had already out and put it underneath his arm. “Too personal involved my ass.” Evan’s voice spoke as he passed Bobby and ran as fast as he could with the backboard he was carrying. As he comes closer, and closer. He recognises the dress out of a thousand. It was the dress (y/n) wore this morning when he left the house to go on shift this exact morning. It’s the dress she wore on their date night two weeks ago. The green dress that made him go crazy. But that green dress was now partly underneath a car. Her groceries were spread over the whole scene. He was sure he passed by a package of cocoa in his speed.

Evan drops the backboard he was carrying when he was close enough to his girlfriend. She was sobbing. Chimney was sitting at her side, while Hen was in the car dealing with the driver. Evan kneeled down on the ground next to the side of (Y/n). “Hey.. hey, I’m here. I’m with you.” Evan says as he grabs her free hand. “Buck?” She cries. She has a neck brace around her neck. “I’m here baby.” He says softly as he brings his mouth towards her hand and plants a kiss on it. He was panicking. “You’re gonna be okay.” He reassured her.

The driver was already evacuated from his car. “Vitals are trembling downwards” Chimney says as he rips his stethoscope from his ears. “Alright, let’s get her out from underneath the car. Get her on the backboard and transported right now!” Bobby orders his crew. Evan grabbed the backboard he had dropped beside him just a minute ago. And put it down right above her head, so they could slide her from underneath the car on the backboard in one smooth movement. “Ready? On three. One.. two… three.” And with that she was on the backboard. The puddle of blood from her head was still lying on the asphalt.

One more time they counted down to three as they pulled up the backboard and put (y/n) on the gurney. The gurney gets pushed into the back of the ambulance.

(Y/n)’s eyes starts rolling as she goes unconscious. “We’re losing her! We’ve got to intubate her.” Eddie says as he rips off his stethoscope. Chimney stops Eddie from getting a tube out of one of the compartments. “When you put that tube in, there’s a chance it will never come back out.” Chimney warns Eddie, it was his sister after all. Eddie looks at Evan, waiting for his answer. Evan closes his eyes for one millisecond. As he nods in agreement to intubate her, he knew that if they waited any longer, he’d lose her. “I’m going with her.” Evan says as he joined Eddie in the back of the ambulance, and the backdoors closed.

_________

Waiting, waiting, and more waiting. Evan feels like he is going crazy. Eddie and Evan have been here for hours, drinking the grossest hospital coffee to stay awake. The rest of the 118 stops by every now and then, with food and drinks.

“(Y/n) Diaz?” A doctor calls through the waiting room. Eddie and Evan both stand up, and walk towards the doctor. “Follow me please.” The female doctor says as she walks through the hall way. This was weird. This has never happened before. Normally they would tell the family the results in the waiting room. Something wasn’t right. “Take a seat.” she says as she points at the two chairs in front of what Evan assumed to be her desk. Both of them take place, as Evan’s heartbeat started to fasten. The doctor sat down in her office chair and flipped open the folder with documents. She shortly introduces herself to the two men, as she continues to bring the news of (y/n). “Due to the accident, mrs Diaz suffered a severe head trauma, together with a broken left leg and a possible spinal injury.” the doctor says. Both Eddie and Evan are silent. Evan’s heart starts pounding like it was trying to leave his chest. And he starts tapping his feet at the ground in a fast rhythm. “Im sorry I don’t have any better news than this now.” She continued as she tries to fill the silence in the room. Evan sighs as he tries to calm himself down. He was scared.

“Okay but.. how is she doing? Is she awake?” Eddie asks the doctor. The doctor is looking down at the documents. “We’ve worked on her left leg, she has now pins and screws helping to heal the bones in her leg. Due to her spinal injury, I’m afraid she may suffer paralysis to the lower body.. I can’t say if this is temporary or permanent. As for your question if she’s awake, I’m afraid she’s not. She’s in a coma, because of the head injury, and she’s also still intubated.” The doctor explains the situation.

It felt for Evan like the world was falling apart. At this moment, everything that was being said turned into muffled sounds. The kind of sounds you’d hear if you were falling a sleep. “How did this even happen?” Eddie asked the doctor. “We did a few tests on the driver, and it turned out he was under the influence of alcohol.” Evan looked up at the doctor, but he doesn’t say anything. A thousand different emotions are projected on his face and rushing through his veins. His heart tightened in his chest at the words that just came out of the doctor’s mouth. Evan could hear his breathing become more and more rapid. He could still hear how Eddie and the doctor were talking, discussing some things.

But for Evan it’s becoming all too much. He has the feeling that he needs to leave the room. Right. Fucking. now. In one fast movement he stands up and storms out of the room. He hears how the door slams shut behind him, as he grabs his chest to try and calm himself down. He walks down the hall and slams with his fist on the first wall he sees. Tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

He lets his back fall against the wall and let himself slide downward. He closes his arms around his knees, as tears rolls down his cheeks. He sobs. He couldn’t believe how his world got turned upside down in a flash.

“I think it’s better for you if you take a break, Buck.” Eddie told Evan. He hasn’t left the room since he came in this morning. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder, and gave him a soft squeeze. Evan knew Eddie was just looking out for him, so he knew it was best to not go against Eddie. Evan just nods, leaves a soft kiss on (y/n)’s hand and patted Eddie on his shoulder before he left the room.

“Hey sis..” he starts, as he takes place on the chair where Evan was sitting just a few seconds ago. He sighs. “Mi dios, I don’t even know what to say..” he continued. He lays his right hand on hers, which was connected with the IV tube. He lets his eyes wander over her bruised body and the tube that was in her mouth. He sighs at the sight of it. “It breaks my heart, seeing you like this..” he goes on after a minute of silence. It was his little sister, lying in the hospital bed. He was closest to (y/n) than to any of his other sisters. He could tell her everything.

Eddie takes a look behind him and sees how Evan is standing in front of the window with his back towards the room. Eddie could sense that Evan was struggling with himself, he didn’t know how to act or how to feel.

“You know how Buck is with emotions. But I can see he’s reaching his breaking point.” He says as he turns back towards (y/n). The beeps and other sounds make Eddie feel sick. It felt like Eddie was reliving everything what happened with Shannon all over again. “I can tell you, it’s not just Buck who’s reaching his breaking point.. I’m trying to stay strong for you and for Chris.. but the truth is, I don’t know how much longer I can do this (y/n).” Eddie continues. His voice is breaking, sounding like he could burst out in tears with a snap of his fingers.

It has been a week since the accident, both Evan and Eddie were here for as long as they could each day. Eddie still had Chris to look after, but luckily his Abuela was there whenever he needed her. Chris went on and on asking about his aunt (Y/n), where she was, how she was doing.. But every single time Chris would mention her, Eddie could feel his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t want to worry Chris. So he just told him that she was busy.

“Please.. I need you to fight. Fight to come back to us. Because.. I don’t know if I can survive another loss. Especially if it’s you.” He tries to wipe away his tears with his left hand, while he squeezes hers with his right hand. “Buck can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not like this..” he cries. He couldn’t stop his tears.

He cried until there weren’t any tears left to cry, Eddie is still sitting in the chair. His left elbow leaning on his left knee to give him some support, as his right hand still remained on her hand. Eddie was just looking at his feet, thinking about all different kind of scenarios of what could happen. Eddie flinched as someone touches his shoulder. It was Evan with two cardboard to go cups in his hands. “Here..” Evan says as he holds out the cardboard cup towards Eddie. “Thanks.” He says as he accepts the cup from Evan with his left hand, and puts it on the small table next to the chair he was sitting on.

As suddenly the fingers of her left hand he was holding, started to move. He could feel the small movements underneath the palm of his hand. Slowly he moved his head, so he could look at her hand. Her fingers were definitely moving. His eyes shot towards her face. Eddie stood up from his chair as he took place next to the side of her bed. “Eddie? What’s wrong?” Evan’s voice said when he puts his coffee down on the same small table. Evan took place next to the other side of the bed.

“She moved..” Eddie says, not really knowing if this was real or not. “Wait. what?” Evan reacts as he looks at Eddie. “She moved her fingers Buck. Look.” Eddie says as he removes his hand off hers. Evan takes a look at her hand, he could see her fingers twitching.

Evan’s eyes wandered towards her face. Her eyelids were slowly opening. Eddie pushed the alarm button in the room for a doctor or nurse to get in and help. Step by step, her eye lids opened wider and wider. Until she was fully conscious. A smile appeared on Evan’s face when his eyes met hers. But her face went to a scared look when she realised what was happening. Her leg was torturing her and it felt like her head was about to explode. She wanted to scream but feels like she can’t. Panic rushed through her veins. She wanted to feel what was on her face, connecting to her mouth. But before her right hand could touch it, Evan stopped her by grabbing her hand. “No.. no.” He whispered when he grabbed her hand en put it on his chest. Tears are leaving the corner of her eyes.

___________

Temporary paralysis to the lower body. That is what she got from crossing the street with a green light. Together with some cruel nightmares. Every time when she closed her eyes she would relive that same moment. She would wake up crying, screaming and sweating.

(Y/n) is sitting in her wheelchair as she tries to reach for her keys, which were lying on the kitchen island. She reaches out as far as she could, basically pushing her body almost into the wooden construction of the kitchen. She sighs. This isn’t gonna work. Evan was sleeping, he came home late from shift last night. She didn’t want to wake him and ask him to grab her keys if she was so close to getting it herself. (Y/n) just had to push through. She could do this.. right?

The last weeks she had appointments with a physiotherapist, to try and get her ability to walk back again. But there weren’t any results yet. She was getting impatient, it was like everything she did all the trouble she went through, didn’t do anything for her legs.

(Y/n) puts her hands on the arm rests of the wheelchair she was sitting in, and with all her strength she has in her arms pushes herself to her feet. For a second, it feels like she’s the old (y/n) again. But then with all of gravity’s help, she falls to the side with her butt on the ground. “For fuck sake!” She yells, as she pushes the wheelchair with every single piece of annoyance and anger she has in her to the other side of the room. She didn’t want to have anything to do with it. She can walk. She knows it. She did it before this stupid accident so she can do it again. She didn’t need a wheelchair.

A loud bang roars through the room.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She feels like a failure. Frustrated she puts her hands in her hair and starts pulling some hairs from her scalp.

Evan shot up at the sound of a bang. With sleepy eyes, which were still half closed. He sweeps his arm beside him, searching for his girlfriend. “(Y/n)?” He says softly as he now takes a look beside him and doesn’t spot her. He pulls off the covers and steps out of bed as he makes his way through his house, searching for his girlfriend.

“(Y/n)?” Her name sounds through the house. His eyes fall on the wheelchair which was now in the corner of the kitchen. He furrowed his brows, as he notices it. Evan hears a soft sob. He follows the sound, but then he sees his girlfriend between the kitchen island and the counter, on the ground. With tears falling down her face.

“Hey! Hey! hey! What happened?” Evan asks with a concerned voice as he rushes to her side, letting himself fall down on his knees. She didn’t answer. He puts a hand on her shoulder, as he tries to make eye contact with her.

Still no answer.

Evan lets himself sit down on his butt next to her, as he crosses his legs. His hand which was on her shoulder, now makes its way towards her back as he makes small circles on it. Once again he tries to make eye contact with her.

“I can’t..” she sobs.

“You can’t.. what?” He asks confused. She wipes her hand underneath her eyes, as she tries to wipe away some tears. “Do simple shit. Like getting my fucking keys from the damn’ kitchen counter.” She cries.

Evan’s mouth left out a sigh. He moves himself to sit more across of her. Pieces of hair were sticking to her face because of the tears. He brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. His fingers trace down from her ear towards her cheek.

“But.. We’ve come so far..” he starts. “Buck! I’ve been doing this for weeks now, maybe months.. and I still don’t see any fucking progress.” she yells as she bangs her fist on the side of the kitchen island.

“That time will come. You just need to be patient.” Evan tried to reassure her. “Time. Yeah.. sure. How much fucking time does it need?!” she continued on. “(Y/n)-“ he starts. “And don’t you dare to say ‘I know how you feel’ because you fucking don’t!” (Y/n) snapped back at Evan.

Evan shook his head.

“Oh so.. I haven’t been pinned down by a firetruck? I haven’t broke my leg and not been able to work for months, just like you? I haven’t been stuck in a wheelchair just like you?” Evan shot back at her. “It’s not the same.” She said under her breath, as she started fidgeting with her fingers. And looks down at her hands.

“You know what.. you’re right…” (Y/n) looked up at Evan as he said that. “I don’t know how it feels to be stuck to that chair. To not feel your own legs. But what I do know is that I had someone to rely on. And that person was you. You dragged me through that horrible period of my life.” Evan said while he intensely looked into her eyes. He had to make sure the message came over. “So right now. I need you to do the damn’ same. So go ahead, push me away. Punch me, I don’t care. But I will still be here at the end of the day. For you. Because I love you.” Evan ended his speech.

She just looks at him. A moment of silence seemed to be created in between the yelling of (Y/n) and the speech of Evan.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. As tears were again rolling down her cheeks. “Come here..” Evan says as he reels her into him. He cupped one hand on the back of her head, and rested the other hand around her waist. She sobs into the crook of his neck, a wet spot seems to be created on his t shirt. He plants a kiss on the side of her head.

“We’ll be alright..”

#911 #911 fox #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine #911 abc

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saekkas · 1 year

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𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐒? 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘!

summary: in which you get sick and it's their job to take care of you.

includes: isagi, rin, kunigami, sae, reo, karasu, aiku, kaiser, bachira, nagi.

note: hi hellow i'm finally back from my week of tests! cheers to posting regularly (fingers crossed) <3

❥ HELICOPTER BOYFRIEND ALERT! he refuses to leave your side for anything. is hell-bent on smothering you in blankets and medicine! will also cook delicious homemade meals to help you get better.

which is what you've walked into this not-so-fine morning.

there are bundles of blankets on your shoulders, all in different colors, courtesy of your very sweet and very protective boyfriend. you're waddling from the bedroom, shoulders slumped under their weight and feet clad in hello panda socks, trying to reach the kitchen before he scolds you for leaving the bed.

he did that the last time you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen too.

the living room is a homey space that's been filled with pillows and a freshly scented humidifier that's been on 24/7 since you've caught the flu. peeking in, you see no signs of your boyfriend. shrugging to yourself at the lack of presence in the room, you continue your trek into the kitchen, stopping short when a familiar voice catches your ear.

leaning against the door that connects the kitchen to the living room, you listen with furrowed eyebrows as your boyfriend calmly speaks on his phone.

his voice is nothing short of sweet and respectful. you watch as he hums to himself, seemingly writing something on a piece of paper, before nodding to whoever's on the other side of the phone.

"yeah, i've bought that already." he hums as he continues scribbling with his pencil, "i've bought that too. is there anything else?"

"mushroom, salt, pepper, corn, chicken meat, eggs. is there anything else?"

the exchange lasts a few minutes at most, but you can't fight off the smile growing on your lips at the sight.

"no, mum. she doesn't have a fever. she has a cough and her nose is red from sniffling and blowing into a tissue all day but she's fine," he hums to his mother on the phone.

your eyes widen in surprise as you've finally realized who he's calling. your heart beats faster in your chest and a small giggle makes its way from your lips as you continue to listen in on their conversation.

"she's eating well. she should be better if-"

his eyes snap towards you at the sound of your giggle before he sends you a look of exasperation which has you giggling even more. he motions for you to come to his side with his fingers and when you do, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

"-sorry, mum. i caught a peeping tom," he says into the phone before quirking an eyebrow at you, a frown on his lips. "as i was saying, she'd be better already if she'd actually stay in bed and sleep like i told her to."

he says the last part with a gentle poke to your side and he smiles at the laugh it brings.

"yeah, she's right here."

you watch as he wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you into his arms. he looks at the guilty smile you send him, and chuckles with a shake of his head.

"mum wants to talk to you," he says after listening to his mother talk. he leans in to press another kiss onto your forehead before pressing speaker. "you can talk now, mum."

the smile on your face only grows when his mother wishes you a quick recovery, and to listen to her son's words. you say goodbye to her when he ends the call.

"your mum's so sweet," you say as he pockets his phone. giving him a smile, you lean forward to wrap your hands behind his neck. "what did you call her for?"

he focuses his attention back to you, placing the sheet of paper on the counter. "i needed a family recipe," he says as a hand stays around your waist, the other checking your temperature. "mum has a special soup for coughs and the flu."

"i can't believe you called your mum for me," you say with a teasing smile as you lay your head on his chest. "that's so sweet of you."

"now that you know," he quirks an eyebrow at you, looking at the multiple blankets around your shoulders. "what are you doing here? i told you to stay in bed. to sleep."

"i'm sorry," you say with a guilty smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek to smooth the frown on his lips. "i got thirsty."

it's silent for a few seconds before it's broken by the sound of your squeal moments later. he places one hand behind your feet and the other on your back, intent on carrying you back to the bedroom.

"hey!" you protest as you squirm in his arms. "i didn't even get to drink yet!"

he looks down at you with a frown, proving a point by handing you a two-litter water bottle for you to hold.

you watch with a pout as he makes his way back to the bedroom, softly placing you in the middle of the bed before standing back up with an expectant look on his face.

"anything else?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow and amusement clear on his features. "or will you finally go to sleep?"

"can i help you cook?" you ask with a hopeful grin.

he sends you a look, shaking his head with a chuckle before leaning down to rewrap the blankets around your body. "sleep," he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "i'll be back with the soup, then we can do something fun."

he leans against the door, awaiting your answer with an expectant look on his face that you can't say no to.

"good girl," he nods in content at your answer, happy that you're finally listening to him. he sends you a sweet smile, his eyes softening as you continue to stare at him. "sweet dreams, precious."

it's hours later when you wake, head on his lap with his hand in your hair. and it's only then that he hand-feeds you his mother's special soup along with sweet kisses to make sure you have a speedy recovery.

isagi, rin, kunigami, seo, SAE (believe when i tell you that i would sacrifice anything for this to happen to me. because i would).

❥ TEASES YOU FOR CATCHING GERMS when in reality, he's dying on the inside from worrying over your state. is the type to not really know what to do, constantly in a state of panic. will call all over to ask for advice which results in him getting 91829272 brands of chicken soup and medicine from the convenient store.

the day has been nothing but brutal on you. a killer headache, scratchy throat, and a fever? this nightmare seems to be never-ending. to top it all off, your boyfriend's been teasing you all day long for catching a virus. you've had enough of him as you both stand under the same umbrella, waiting for the bus to arrive as it's raining cats and dogs.

"seriously," he says with cocky tone and a nudge to your shoulder. "if you don't start taking care of yourself, you'll be walking like a grandma by the time you're 25."

"gee, thanks." you roll your eyes at his teasing remarks, sniffling as the cold sends a shiver down your spine. "you sure know how to treat a sick person," your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

"no problem, babe," he chuckles as the bus comes to a stop in front of you. his grip on your wrist is warm and comforting, and he only moves to take your hand in his. "c'mon. this is our bus."

you let him lead you inside, swaying on your feet as your skull throbs from the headache. sniffling, you come to a stop behind him, staring at the elderly couple as they get off from their seats. you sit beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder as the bus starts to move.

"you can go home first," he says in a low tone, being considerate of your state. "i've got something i need to do first then i'll drop by."

your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words. as far as you know, there isn't practice after school, and he's been intent on coming over to your apartment to study.

"okay," you shake away any other thoughts and nod limply against his shoulder. "i'll wait for you to come back before studying."

"how considerate of you," he chuckles as he pats your head, smoothing his thumb across your forehead to help soothe your discomfort.

the ride home isn't long. the bus is quiet; not many passengers are on, and their chatter is muted. you start to make your way into dreamland, his shoulder the perfect pillow and his warmth the coziest blanket.

"hey," he whispers as he nudges you awake. "you're almost at your stop. you need to get up, baby."

"right," you grumble as your eyes start to open, shaking off the sleepiness as a yawn tumbles out of your lips. "c'mon, we should wait by the door."

he sends you an apologetic look, shaking his head. "i'm not getting out just yet, babe. my stop's the next one." he still has your hand in his, thumb still rubbing gentle circles on the skin. "i'll wait with you by the door though."

still in the haze of sleep, you nod as you rub a hand across your eye. you wait until he stands before following him, your hands still intertwined. he leaves a kiss on the crown of your head, along with his umbrella, waving as you get off.

trudging against the rain, umbrella in hand, you walk the short path back to your apartment. pressing the code and sniffling as you do, you whisper a small i'm home into the empty space.

you've only finished preparing two cups of hot chocolate and a plethora of snacks when the doorbell rings, his image flashing on the monitor. opening the door, you're about to sniffle a small hey but all that comes out is a gasp.

"why the hell are you wet?!" you gasp at your boyfriend's appearance, sopping wet from top to bottom with his hair plastered onto his forehead.

"i gave you the umbrella, remember?" he chuckles with a teasing wink. "don't tell me your memory is starting to become like a grandma's too. besides, it isn't so bad."

frowning at his words, you're quick to run into the bathroom, taking along 2 towels with you. "i didn't think it was the only umbrella we had. you should've brought it with you." pausing for a second, you tilt your head with a question, "where did you go anyway?"

"and let you walk home in the rain?" he scoffs, ducking behind the door to pick up three paper bags. "not a chance, babe."

you eye the bags, recognizing the symbol from your local supermarket's. moving to the side, you try to take one of them but he's quick to dodge your advances.

"i- uh- i went to the supermarket." he nods down towards the bags, taking the towels from you to dry his hair. "went to buy you some medicine and soup. to kill the germs and all that."

he stops his movements at one point as he runs a hand on the back of his neck. "didn't know which one to get. everyone i called recommended different things so i bought all of 'em."

raising your eyebrows at the sweetness of his gesture, you chuckle before pushing him into the bathroom. "go shower. i made some hot chocolate before you got here, so we can have that after."

"with marshmallows and chocolate syrup?" he asks with wide eyes, smirking when you nod your head yes. "that's my girl."

you both didn't do any studying that night. intent on feeding each other soup and taking turns sipping the hot chocolate, you end up in his arms. "don't every get sick ever again, you hear me?" he threatens with a sleepy yawn as he presses you deeper into his chest, nuzzling into your hair. "i was about to die, thinking you were dying."

you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

karasu, aiku.

❥ A KISS A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY is what he says when you tell him that you're sick. is the type of boyfriend to become whinier and touchier, laying in bed all day asking you to cuddle him as if he's the who one who's sick and not the other way around.

"c'mon," he whines, tugging at your sweater as you head towards the soccer field. today's practice is a simple one; a match against the rival team to gauge each players' readiness for the real match. you're only here because he insisted you come watch. "we do this before every match. you can't deny me, my good luck charm."

"no." you groan for the umpteenth time that day, insistent on refusing him because of your cold. "i told you. i can't kiss you today. besides, your talent and hard work are enough to get you through this play. even without my kisses."

"i won't get sick," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, ignoring your last statement. "one kiss won't get me sick."

"well, i don't care if it's one kiss or a hundred. i'm not kissing you because you have a big game next week, and i will not jeopardize your play by accidentally passing on the flu to you."

"fine," he huffs with an annoyed pout on his lips. one you are dying to kiss off, after you get better. "i'm blaming you if we lose this play."

you sigh as he grumpily stalks off to the field, leaving you to sit on the bleachers all on your lonesome.

"see, i told you. you don't need my kisses to win." after three rounds and a win, you finally get to say it to his face. with a smug smile on your face, you watch as your boyfriend packs his things, ready to go home after a day on the field.

"whatever," he grumbles, still pouty, and visibly upset. he swings his bag onto his shoulder, extending his hand for you to take. "please tell me that i still get my victory cuddles, at least."

taking his hand, you walk side by side.

he glances at you from the corner of his eyes before directly looking at you, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i still get them," he says with his cutest puppy eyes and pout, "right?"

biting your lip, you will yourself not to fall into his trap. "i'm sorry," you say as you shake your head. "no cuddles until i'm better too."

"evil." he shakes his head, lifting his chin off your shoulder to look at the street ahead. "you're plain evil. you know i can't survive without your kisses and cuddles."

"it's just for a few days." you sigh as you squeeze his hand, stopping to wait for the red light. "then you can have as many as you want. promise."

"you saw how draining practice was," he huffs, eyes stubbornly set on the ongoing traffic, showing his dislike at your current predicament. "i need to recharge with your cuddles."

he tugs your hand when the traffic light turns red, pushing you into the inner part of the sidewalk. "i want them now," he says with another pout before stopping altogether, pointing at your shoes. "your laces are untied."

"huh?" you look down but before you know it, your view's been blocked by the top of his head as he squats to re tie the laces.

"you're so clumsy," he admonishes with a grumble. "what if i'm not here, and you trip?" he then grins to himself as an idea comes to mind.

"that has never happened before and you know it."

tying your laces, he sighs dramatically before standing up, right in front of your face. he's quick in his movements, taking your chin in hand, he presses a peck on your lips.

his face is filled by beaming happiness. his eyes are squinted, his lips spread wide in a grin, and it takes everything in you to not pull him into another kiss because right now? you should be mad.

"you know what? whatever." you groan, lifting your hand in exasperation as you walk in the direction of your houses, intent on letting him walk alone. "you can only blame yourself if you get sick."

he's next to you in a second, his expression still joyful, as he practically walks with a skip in his step. he presses kisses onto every layer of your exposed skin, starting from your forehead and ending with the knuckles on your hand. you bite your lip at how adorable he is, content with his affection.

"just you wait and see," he says in a sing-song voice as he moves in to press another kiss on your lips. "i'll prove you wrong."

"whatever you say then," you mumble as you eye the convenient store right at the corner of the street. "can we stop by first? i need to buy-"

"there's no need." he interrupts your words, fishing his hand into his bag before pulling out a set of painkillers and medicine. "i've got them right here."

you say nothing as you tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses onto his face with a lovestruck smile on yours.

"heh," he says, face flushing at your sudden display of affection. "i should surprise you more often."

as a reward for buying you medicine, and for not kissing him before his match, you let him cuddle and kiss you for the rest of the day with no complaints.

the next day, you laugh in his face when he calls to tell you that he has a cold, snickering an i told you so when you go to take care of your big whiny baby.

KAISER, bachira, nagi (with less dramatics and energy).

1K notes · View notes

heartbreakgrill · 7 months

Text

out of the woods: theo raeken.

1989 (Heartbreak Grill’s Version)

looking at it now it all seems to simple. we were lying on your couch. i remember.

“i have to go.”

theo groaned as the words left my lips. his arms, wrapped securely around my waist, tightened their grip as he inhaled a hopeless breath.

“no,” he nudged my neck with his nose, eliciting a soft giggle from me. “no, stay, please.”

“theo,” i wriggled away from his ticklish touches, “i have to go.”

i tried to remove myself from his grasps, but he was strong. his large, warm hands, slid over my bare stomach, gripping onto my hips. he pressed my back into the mattress, as my wrestling arms came to rest on his shoulders. he had been growing out his hair and now it hung low enough to ghost over my collarbones. i shivered as the strands drug across my skin, theo’s lips attached to my neck.

“theo,” i persisted, “scott gets off at 8. he’s going to come into my room and check if i’m there. when i’m not, he’s going to notify every single supernatural within a thirty mile radius, and every policeman within the county. they will be on your doorstep by 8:15, and i will be dead.”

as i spoke, i continued to try to fight theo’s strong hold, lifting my body from the mattress, and pushing back at his shoulders. my words seemed like a good enough threat to get him moving.

“i don’t want you to go,” he moved to the edge of the bed, feet flat upon the floor.

i stood and gathered my clothes, occasionally tossing him pointed glances, “as much as i enjoy this- i would prefer to not die tonight. i have a chemistry exam tomorrow. here-“

theo rolled his eyes as i tossed his boxers to him. it landed on top of his head. i stifled a laugh and tugged on my jeans.

theo ripped the boxers off and mocked my laughter, “haha, very funny.”

i shrugged and stuck my head through my t-shirt. “listen,” i made my way towards the front door of theo’s tiny, studio apartment. it wasn’t much, but it beat sleeping in his truck every night, like he had been doing. i laced up my shoes, “i should be able to see you tomorrow night. i’ll text you, though, let you know what’s happening.”

theo noticed i was reaching for the door handle and quickly shimmied into his boxers. he slapped a hand against the door, “wait!”

it slammed shut. i looked up at him, an expectant expression on my face. “yeah?”

theo caught my chin in his hands, and planted a sweet kiss on my lips. i melted into the moment, leaning my weight into his hold, allowing my fingers to gently ghost his chest. however, as soon as theo moved to deepen the exchange, my phone started ringing.

my eyes flew open, a wide, worried look taking over my dazed face. i held out a finger towards theo, as if to shush him, as i answered the call.

“hello? oh, hi, scott,” i shot theo a glance. he crossed his arms, figure shrunk in a guilty demeanor. “no, yeah- i’m on my way home now. oh, chinese sounds good. yep- no, yeah. just gotta shower first. just- with gina. yep. studying. chem exam tomorrow! yep. yeah. k. love you! bye.”

i stared at my phone for a second, as though scott were going to climb out of it and kill theo for even being in the same room as me. when that didn’t happen, i let out a deep breath.

“okay,” i looked to the boy, “i have got to get going. i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“yeah,” theo couldn’t help but grin down at me, “tomorrow.”

i noticed his body tilt towards mine, his chest lean towards me, and i held up a finger, cocked a brow. “don’t even think about it or i will never get out of here.”

i could hear him groaning as i shut the door behind me.

–

you took a polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color.

“what are you doing for your birthday?”

i balanced the popcorn bowl on my lap as i twisted around on the couch. theo glanced over at me from the fridge, flashing that bright, wide grin.

i couldn’t help but smile, though nothing special really was happening. “not sure yet. why do you ask?”

“just wondering.”

i stared at the back of his stooped, trying to read between the lines of his very few words. theo could feel my gaze, could hear my curious heartbeat, and looked up against. “what?”

i slowly brought a piece of popcorn to my lips, brows furrowed, “why are you asking?”

“nothing,” he reached into the fridge and grabbed a can of coke. the door shut softly behind him. he neared the couch and cracked open the drink. i continued to stare him. “why do you keep staring at me like that?”

“because i know it’s not nothing,” i set the bowl down on the coffee table and came up onto my knees. theo tilted his head and peered down at me. “you’ve got stuff on your mind. say it. let it out into the open. this is a judgement free zone.”

he chuckled softly as i gestured to the tiny apartment. “not exactly a zone as is.”

i reached up and smacked his forearm. “just tell me! please?”

theo took another sip of his coke, thinking intensely. “there’s really not much to say. i was just thinking how your birthday is coming up and i wanted to maybe do something special for you.”

“wait, really?” i perked up, elbows pressed into the back of the couch and chin planted upon my palms. “aw, wait really?”

theo rolled his eyes, “yes, really. but, i know you guys probably have stuff planned. so, i was just trying to get a feel for when we could fit something in.”

“no one’s said anything to me about any plans. though,” my mind wandered a bit, and the stupid hope theo’s healing heart always gave me filled my lungs, “if they do figure something out, i don’t see why you couldn’t just come to that..?”

theo’s soft face hardened slightly, a gut wrenching frown painting his pink lips. “yeah…i don’t know about that. liam still wants me dead. scott and stiles hate me- not to mention malia and lydia probably would be happy to kick me in the balls.”

i thought over the words, imagining each scenario play out. he was right. “yeah…” i trailed off, “yeah, i don’t think that would happen. i just-“

i struggled to find my words, gaze distant, hope shattered. “i don’t know-“

“i know,” theo touched my cheek, fingers cold from the can of coke now in his other hand. “i know.”

“i’m tired of hiding, theo,” my voice came out quiet and timid, expressive to how i was truly feeling. it was exhausting, constantly sneaking around, always being on the lookout for scott.

“i know, baby,” he squatted down to my level, holding my face with both hands, now. his thumbs brushed over the apples of my cheeks, eyes catching my distant ones. “listen…i know it’s hard, but…they just don’t understand it, okay? they wouldn’t get it. you- you put your faith in me when i didn’t deserve it. if it wasn’t for you, if it wasn’t for your hope, i don’t think i would be the man i am today. you saw a lost, broken boy and you helped me get back on my feet. you helped me make up for every wrong i’ve done. i…”

he didn’t continue any sentence. he just pressed his lips together. my heart fluttered at the anticipation of what it could’ve been he wanted to say.

“i just wish…” i gathered some thoughts, “i wish they’d give you a chance.”

“one day,” theo kissed me shortly, “i think…one day, it’ll happen.”

we curled up on the tiny couch, fit for his small apartment, and watched a movie. i lay in the crevice of his side, clutching to his body like it would be taken from me. often, i worried that that would happen. scott would catch us, committing no crimes, and juror theo to a fate worse than death. it seemed so silly- scott was the sworn protector of this town. he always ensured everyone’s happiness, health, prosperity. yet, when it came to me, those guarantees fell short. he’d rather i be holed up in my room, or holed up at school, my nose in a book, than i live, than i date or work or go out with friends.

it made everything so complicated. it made my life complicated- i had rules to follow, i had curfews, i had to answer the phone every time he called or the entire world would fall apart. i understood my brother just wanted me to be safe, to stay alive- but he was ruining my life while trying to save it.

i looked up towards theo, worry swimming through my eyes. he turned his head at my own shuffling and smiled, though it faded at the sight of my worried face.

“hey, hey,” he shifted his body towards mine, “baby…it’s okay. hey…everything’s gonna be okay, yeah? i won’t let anything ruin this, okay?”

“i’m just worried he’s gonna take you away from me…”

“i know,” theo brushed the hair from my face, “i know, but i won’t let him. i…”

that unfinished thought again.

i set my hands upon theo’s shoulder, worry being coaxed down by the affection i felt for him. “i love you,” i admitted.

theo’s face softened, the gold flecks in his eyes on fire from my confession. he pulled my face closer towards his, rushing out a response before crashing our lips together.

“i love you.”

–

and i remember thinking: are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet good?

“i saw theo today.”

i looked up from my plate, eyes widened in curiosity. i flicked my gaze between lydia, scott, stiles, malia, and liam. everyone paused from eating their food. they focused on lydia’s words.

scott straightened his stooped neck. his thick brows were furrowed with inquiry, “really? where?”

“the store,” lydia spoke pointedly. “he was buying a dozen roses from the supermarket.”

“well, at least we know he’s a cheap date,” stiles was quick to nip.

i felt my face grow warm, both from worry and frustration. i shoveled some noodles into my mouth.

malia poked at her straw, “what’s he doing here? i thought he left?”

“i think we all did,” scott sighed. he wiped a napkin across his face. “did he have any other groceries?”

lydia rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, as if to recite the items she saw in his cart. “eggs, milk, icing, chicken nuggets, a loaf of bread, and, i think, penne noodles. could’ve been elbow macaroni, though. couldn’t really tell.”

a smile creeped onto my face as i pieced together the groceries. i was supposed to see theo tonight, though i’d told mom and scott i was going to gina’s for a sleepover. i guess i had a birthday cake and flowers to look forward to.

everyone thought for a moment. then, stiles cracked another lame joke, “hey, maybe he’s going to make up for nearly killing y/n by baking her a cake!”

i choked on my water. scott reached a concerned hand over to pat my back. i pressed a napkin to my face and coughed erratically. “you okay?” scott brushed hair form my cheek.

i nodded wildly, “yep- yeah. yep! great. good. sorry.”

scott patted my back again before returning to the conversation. “for his sake, i hope he isn’t planning on doing that. i hope he isn’t planning on contacting any of us. if he does, you all need to tell me- immediately, okay? stiles, let your dad know he’s lingering around. y/n-“

i sniffled from my coughing fit. “yeah?”

scott’s face was lined with a deepened worry, brown eyes swimming with concern for me. “i don’t think i want you going to gina’s tonight. or anywhere but school for the time being. not until we know what theo’s doing here.”

my brows furrowed tightly, “what? no! what- why- how is that fair? no- scott. i can’t-“

“mom will agree,” scott cut me off. “i’m not risking anything.”

“but…” i went to continue to argue my case, but scott continued rattling off instructional orders to the rest of the group.

and, so, my birthday dinner turned into driving to the sheriff’s station with the entire pack. sitting in stilinki’s office until we figured out where theo was living. we drove to the street and patrolled his apartment until 1am. then, stiles dropped scott and i off at home.

nobody even sang me happy birthday.

looking at it now, last december, we were built to fall apart. then fall back together.

“it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“theo,” i grinned as i took a box from him. a big red bow adorned the glittery wrapping paper. it wasn’t heavy, and the size of the box was quite small. but my heart lit on fire from the lovely gesture. “you really shouldn’t have.”

“no, i wanted to,” he waved me off. “you deserve…so much. the world.”

i met his eyes and recognized that familiar, glistening adoration i’d gotten so used to. “i just…feel bad. you don’t have much money, and-“

“it doesn’t matter,” theo pressed a hand to my knee.

we were criss-cross on the couch, sparse christmas decorations scattered through his tiny apartment. i’d insisted on lining tinsel across the door, lights around the tv console, putting the fake tree in the already crowded corner. i hadn’t been able to come over much and wanted theo to be able to feel some semblance of joyous occasion when i wasn’t there. this was the first time we’d seen each other since thanksgiving.

i only managed to escape the house because i convinced scott that gina and i had to spend christmas together.

“open it!” theo squeezed my knee again.

i giggled at his excited stature and quickly unraveled the bow. inside, amidst the folds of a velvet box, was a necklace with the letter t hanging off of a gold chain. i grinned at the sight, “oh, my gosh! here- put it on me!”

i held my hair from my shoulders as theo clipped the necklace at the nape of my spine. his cold fingers ghosted across my skin until his palms were around my shoulders. he tugged my back into his chest, laying us down upon the couch.

your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn't quite forget when we decided to move the furniture so we could dance.

silence enveloped our presence, a comforting feeling of peace that we rarely had. “i love you, theo,” i let myself whisper. i tried to say it more often than not, worried that one day i wouldn’t be able to remind him of it.

“we should tell scott.”

i pulled myself up, out of theo’s hold, turning to face him on the couch. i was bewildered. my face surely showed it, “what?”

theo ran a hand through his hair, “i think we should tell scott, y/n.”

i shook my head slightly, “no, no. no- we can’t do that. theo- no.”

his tone became increasingly critical, disagreeing with my own disapproval. “why not? im tired of hiding-“

“he’ll kill you, theo,” i rushed out. my breathing was anticipatory in it’s quick speed. “scott will kill you, theo.”

“i don’t know. he’s…merciful. i think if we tell him, we can-“

“theo, no!” i jumped from the couch. “please, just stop. i don’t want to fight about this with you. it’s not happening. end of stor-“

“why does that get to just be your decision? why don’t i get to have a say in this relationship? it’s all up to you!” theo followed me from our seats. he spoke wildly, his hands moving with his words.

i crossed my arms, “i risk everything every single day that i text you. i put myself on the line just to see you. i’m lying to my brother, my best friend- my mom! theo- i thought you understood-“

“i’m just tired of being your little secret. i want to be able to- to see you. i want to come to your birthday dinners and spend christmas morning with you. i want to be in your life. i feel like i’m just on the sidelines!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill all of us!”

the words blurted from my lips before i could stop them. the stale silence that followed my heartless thoughts was bitter and cold. theo turned his shoulder from me, dropping his head into his hands.

“oh, my god,” i stepped forward, bracing my hands for impact. “i’m so sorry. theo- i-“

“i thought you’d forgiven me,” he murmured into his palm. “you told me you forgave me for that.”

“i did- i did, i just- i’m sorry! i don’t know why i said tha-“

“maybe scott’s right,” theo met my eyes finally, tears blurring his green ones.

“what-?”

“maybe i never will change. maybe i’m just a bad guy. maybe it’s not a good idea for you to be around me.”

“no, theo, no-“ he kept interrupting me.

“you should leave.”

i couldn’t find the words to stay, but i needed to.

i stepped forward, again, touching theo’s shoulder. he whipped his head back to face me, beautiful eyes darkened by the yellow hue, fangs protruding from his teeth, claws digging into his palms that were beginning to bleed.

“get out!” he roared.

i flinched, throwing myself back a few feet. my hands were shaking. i quickly gathered my things, never turning my back from the monstrous boy standing before me. his chest heaved with anger. he glared.

for the first time in a long time, i was scared of theo.

so, i ran.

baby, like we stood a chance; two paper airplanes flying. and i remember thinking…

“are you awake?”

scott knocked upon my bedroom door.

i rolled over in my bed, away from the sound of his voice, away from his incessant worry.

i knew he could hear my heartbeat. i knew he could smell my pheromones.

i ignored him. he had his answers. i wanted to be left alone.

scott sighed. “please talk to me.”

i didn’t want to.

“well,” he tried to sound cheery, but it failed, “i’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

weeks had passed.

silence had followed.

scott was always wondering why i didn’t go to study group with gina. mom worried why i didn’t want to eat my favorite dinner on thursday nights. stiles was confused when i would voluntarily tag along on patrols with him and scott. when we’d pass theo’s house, i’d press my headphones into my ears and drown the two teenage boys out.

lydia drug me to the mall the following week. scott had told everyone he was worried i was depressed. but he didn’t know why.

i knew why.

i didn’t text theo. and he didn’t try to reach me.

i let the necklace pool in my makeup drawer. my fingers ghosted over it every morning, and i’d flinch as though it burned me. it just made me brain flicker with unwanted memories.

i had nightmares about him.

he’d come into my room and tear me apart.

he’d kill scott right in front of me.

he’d rip my mom’s throat out during dinner.

i dreamed of him, too.

of his arms, the contradictory peace i felt from his fingers. i knew, deep down inside, that his threatening demeanor wasn’t real. it was a projection of his innermost insecurities, his frustration because he could only ever have parts of me.

but i was still terrified. it took me back to a time in my life when theo really was the villain. back to the night when the dread doctors nearly killed me. it reminded me of things i’d worked hard to get over.

it felt like last year, only this time, my heart was broken, too.

i don’t know why i thought it would work. bad people never changed. they’d maybe give you a hurricane eye, false hope that things would be clearing up, the storm would pass. and, then, their true, dark colors would appear like the rain. thundering down on you.

i thought back to months ago, when i first let him in. i’d run into him at the grocery store, like lydia. he was buying tuna fish and a potted plant. he had a certain soil type in his cart. i didn’t recognize him at first, mostly because i’d blocked his face from my memory, and his hair had grown out. he was hiding beneath his hoodie, too.

are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet? good.

“that soils gonna kill that plant.”

i peered over at the stranger’s cart, my own basket swinging from my arm.

“oh!” he looked up from the cereal box in his hands, surprised by my voice.

his brows furrowed, friendly smile faltering slightly. “oh. uh…” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

i chuckled shortly, “sorry to startle you? i just…don’t want to watch this poor guy be carted off to his death.”

theo looked at the plant as i pointed to it. he set the cereal down in his car, shook his head once, and met my eyes again, “oh. that’s okay. um…would you mind telling me what soil i need?”

“yeah, of course. cmon.”

i marched us off to the plant aisle. as we walked across the entire supermarket, i told him all about my plant collection at home. i shared personal details of my life, remarked as he brought up his own stories.

then, i found the small bag easily, and dumped it into his cart, shoveling the other one back onto the shelf.

he thanked me with this sweet grin. “wow, uh, thank you, so much. any other tips?”

his smile twisted into a smirk, something friendly, nothing too extreme. but, it’s what clicked my memories together. i recognized him then.

i frowned and took a slow step back, “um. sorry…”

i quickly turned on my heel and raced away from the aisle. theo was hot on my heels. he chased me with his cart, stumbling over apologies that i was sure didn’t mean anything. “wait- no! y/n! i’m sorry! please! please let me-! i’m so sorry!”

i tried to pull my phone from my pocket to call scott, but it clattered to the floor. i skidded to a stop, dropping to my knees to grab it. the basket in my arm tipped and everything sprawled across the floor.

i reached for my phone and cursed at the mess. his hand came down over mine. he shot his grip back, apologizing. “i didn’t mea-“

“leave me alone.”

i don’t know how he convinced me to go to dinner with him.

remember when you hit the brakes too soon? 20 stitches in the hospital room. when you started crying, baby, i did, too. but, when the sun came up i was looking at you.

“i think we should talk.”

i glanced over at lydia, thumbs pressing into my thighs anxiously. i sucked in a breath, cold air drowning in my lungs. the wipers rubbed over the window wildly, rain pouring down outside. the radio played softly.

i watched a raindrop race down the window, then glanced over at lydia. “about what?”

she met my eye for a second. she looked like she knew something i didn’t want her to. i gulped.

“you know i…” she trailed off. she licked her teeth in an attempt to find her words, carefully. “i can see things, y/n.”

i sucked in another breath. i couldn’t get enough. i should’ve known this would happen. lydia didn’t just get premonitions of death. if she was connected to somebody enough, like me, she could see flashes of secrets.

“yeah…” i whispered.

“i don’t…” lydia struggled to speak, “i don’t know what to say, necessarily. i only know bits and pieces. like…christmas. he- he wanted to hurt you. but, then- at the grocery store. he was gonna bake you a cake. wha- please tell me what happened, y/n.”

i explained the situation with a shaky voice, fingers rubbing one another in a ruminating anxiety. lydia just listened intently. i was worried she was going to turn the car around, drive us back home to tell scott. i’d get holed up in my room while the pack went on a man and wolf hunt.

but, when i was finished, lydia just stared off at the road.

“well?” i pressed.

she glanced at me, again, “wow. i don’t…i don’t know what to say. i just…i’ve loved some bad people, y/n. one of them- died. the other moved to london, but…but they did change. i changed them, i’d like to think. they became good people. but, i think that’s because they were good people, in their core. they were just scared…i know you probably know theo better than i do, but…i don’t know. he killed his sister. if he were a real wolf, his eyes would be blue, y/n. he came to this town to kill your brother. to take our pack. and he nearly killed you. so many of our classmates’ lives ended because of theo. i just- he’s…”

as she spoke, images flashed through my mind.

two months ago, theo and i had drove three hours outside of town to go to the movie theater. as we walked inside, we saw a little girl sitting upon the curb. she was leaned over, sobbing into her hands. i didn’t know what to do. i was never really good with kids.

theo dropped my hand, ignoring the end of our conversation. he marched over to her, squatted down to speak to her. i couldn’t quite hear what he said, but she looked up at him with these huge, sad eyes. tears stained her face.

theo stood. he offered her his hand. she took it gladly.

he talked to her, quietly, as they walked inside. i followed closely. we stood with the movie theater attendants while they found the girl’s mom.

later, theo showed me a photo of his sister that he kept tucked within a book in his bedroom. it was the only thing he had left of her. that, and the awful memory of what he’d done to her.

she looked to be the age of that little girl, the one who squeezed theo like an old friend before running off to her mommy. she kissed his cheek. she thanked him.

“every night, i have nightmares about…”

i remember holding him through these terrifying dreams…

“about what i did to her. i regret it- i regret it, y/n. if i could give my life to get her back i- i would do it in a heartbeat. i…i’m so sorry of who i am. of where i’ve been and what i’ve done. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. i wish..i wish we could start over. i wish i could meet you in another lifetime, one where none of this ever happened.”

i held his face in my hands, gently, “theo…it’s okay. we all…we’ve all done things that we wish we could take back. we can only deal with the consequences, and make the best of it. i love you- i love you so much. i forgive you.”

remember when we couldn’t take the heat? i walked out. i said, ‘i’m setting you free.’ but the monsters turned out to be just trees. when the sun came up- you were looking at me.

“theo is…”

lydia didn’t quite finish her sentence, but my i did with my own sad realizations. “scared. he’s scared. he’s…he’s been fighting his whole life. he was just a…just a boy when the dread doctors found him. they manipulated him and- and, god. i-i was helping him and then…god, i’m so mean. i let your guys’ threats against theo ruin my own beliefs. and i let it ruin us…lydia- i-“

“i’m sorry,” she said. it was sincere. “i didn’t…i didn’t know. i’m so sorry, y/n. don’t blame yourself for how it ended. you…you had every right to say what you did. it was his choice as to how he reacted to it. and he pushed you away.“

“but, but- i could have stayed. i could have helped him. we could have worked it out- i need to go see him. lydia, please- take me home-“

lydia screamed.

my eardrums burst.

blood dripped down my jaw, staining the collar of my jean jacket. the tired squealed against the slick pavement. the car went over the side of the road, flying through an empty field, and crashing down on it’s head. broken glass scraped across my face. the seatbelt nearly choked me as our bodies twisted upside down with the car.

i was awake for a mere moments after the car stilled. the radio continued to play soft, haunting melodies. the rain pattered, splashing my face.

the only thing i could picture was theo’s face.

it was almost as if he was right there before me.

when i woke, i was in a hospital bed. i couldn’t quite open my eyes. my head was pounding and the florescent lighting stung my vision. the cuts in my skin thumped with my heartbeat. the iv in my arm felt thick, heavy, cold fluids running in my veins.

above the annoying beeping of the machines attached to my body were two voices. angry voices. arguing voices.

theo and scott.

“no, i don’t think you understand, theo! get out! i don’t want you anywhere near my sister! you- i don’t trust you! this probably happened because of you!”

my eyes shot open.

theo stepped back as scott yelled in his face. his tone was more calm than my brother’s, hands raised defensively, yet in a surrendering offer with his palms facing the ceiling. “scott, please, just-“

“no! get out! leave! before i make you!” scott’s hands were shaking with anger. he seethed, chest rising up and down wildly.

i tried to move, but my body paralyzed. words wouldn’t come, either, because a breathing mask was over my mouth.

“scott-!” theo tried, once more.

scott growled, eyes turning red, ears pointing up towards the moon in the window. he was completely transformed. i knew how dangerous that was. i knew how angry he was.

my eyes shot towards the doorway as mom quickly entered. she stopped before scott, placing her hands on his shoulders gently, “scott…honey, cmon, you’ve gotta breathe, okay? i’ve got a hospital full of patients and the last thing i need is to have the night janitor clean up after two werewolves.”

“then tell him to leave!” scott pointed a claw at theo.

mom looked towards the boy, brows furrowing in anger. she composed herself better. “theo…” mom spoke warily, “you need to leave. now.”

“no, you don’t understand! i didn’t do this! i-i brought her here! if i wanted to kill her, why would i bring her here!”

“to save your ass!” scott roared.

i examined theo’s face as it tilted towards the light. tears shone on his cheeks. mom pushed scott back an inch, “no, scott! hey, honey, cmon! he’s- he’s telling the truth. he brought her here- he didn’t try to kill her, scott!”

“then what did?”

“a deer,” mom spoke blankly. she pursed her lips. the confession was awkward, humanized compared to what we were all used to.

scott straightened his posture, transforming back into a human. his breathing evened out. “oh. i’m….”

theo sighed, ran a hand over his face. “look…i know you hate me. and you have every right to. but…i just…i’m not leaving. i’m staying.”

he took a step towards my bed. scott moved in front of him, blocking me. “stay away from her.”

“scott,” mom examined theo’s face as he met my eyes. he breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed my hand.

theo dropped to the chair beside my bed, clutching my fingers in his. he pressed his forehead to my touch, mumbling gratitude beneath his breath.

“i thought i lost you,” theo whispered.

mom and scott watched. mom crossed her arms over her chest, a wondrously pleased expression in her eyes. she glanced at scott. he gasped at our interaction.

i blinked away a tear. theo kissed the back of my hand. “i really thought i lost you. god- i’m…i’m never letting you leave me again. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for scaring you. i promise, i promise it’ll never happen again. i’m never gonna let go of you, i’m never gonna push you away again, okay? i love you.”

i nodded gently, unable to do much else. my fingers wriggled in his hands. he squeezed mine.

scott stepped forward, “theo…”

theo met scott’s eyes. he huffed, “please. please just five minutes. i’ll leave if you want me to, but…please, scott just give me five minutes, okay? you can chase me out of beacon hills, to the ends of the earth, but please let me have five minutes with my girl.”

scott went to say something else, but mom grabbed his bicep. “five minutes.”

she began leading then to the hall, scott following begrudgingly. she looked over her shoulder to tell theo, “five minutes and then we have a lot to talk about, okay? starting with you’re gonna start going to therapy and i have a 24 pack of condoms in my office.”

my face turned beat red.

theo laughed, a relieved, gentle sound i had missed for far too long. he met my eyes again.

“i love you.”

you were looking at me. i remember. are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet? good.

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kiwanopie · 2 years

Text

cw: mdni dubcon. drunk sex. reluctant but willing reader. praise. filth. honestly don’t even read this.

the only alternative to opening my docs when horny is doing half a backflip and landing on my neck

When you open the door, he’s standing there propped on his elbow. Feet barely crossed in front of each other as he makes an attempt at posing as desirably as possible, and looking like a complete drunken fool in the process.

You raise a curious eyebrow.

“Hi.”

“Midoriya?”

“Helloo!” He greets again, and it’s tailed by a giggle as he moves forward.

“What’s-“

His arms are heavy and all surrounding as he pulls you into a hug, you nearly stumble back from how much weight he’s putting on you. Barely able to hold himself up correctly, and already dipping his head into the crook of your neck - you shiver as your friend takes in a few good whiffs of you.

Midoriya groans quietly. “Y’smell so good.”

“You smell like a distillery.” You rub his back. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Oh my god, s’much.” He giggles. And then he presses in more, kicking the door closed behind him. “Les’ have a sleepover. I’m so tired.”

He punctuates that by nearly laying all of his weight on you, giggling again when you grunt from the stress and try with all the strength you can muster to drag him to the bed.

You blow out a sigh as he bounces on your mattress from where you’ve all but thrown him, feet hanging precariously close to the floor as he stretches his arms and nuzzles into your blanket.

“How’d you even get up here like that?” You breathe.

“I took the elevator.”

You sigh again.

“If you’re gonna sleep in my bed, you can’t sleep in your regular clothes.” You turn your head to search through your drawers. “I don’t want my bed to smell like alcohol.”

Midoriya snorts behind you. “Okie.” And it’s followed by the sound of shuffling.

You’re quick as you grab the oversized college hoodie from your dresser, turning around - though hesitating a bit when you find him laid out in nothing but his underwear behind you, boxers fitting comfortably over his muscled thighs and chiseled stomach.

You try not to stare as you throw him the hoodie. “Put this on, whore. And fix yourself, don’t just sleep on top of the covers.”

“S’ bossy..” He pouts but he does it anyway.

Your feet patter around the room as you start to get ready for bed again, grabbing your phone from where you left it in the bathroom and plugging it up on your bedside table.

You're lifting a leg onto the bed while absently tying your hair up when Midoriya pulls at your lower thigh.

“Hm?”

“Can you…?” He starts drunkenly. “Do s’mthing for me.”

“Mhm?”

He looks at you for a while, drawing circles in your thighs.

“Sit on my face.”

You pause.

“You’re too drunk.”

Midoriya smiles giddily. “So? Y’expect me to ask you when I’m sober? You’re too hot.”

“You’re like barely conscious right now, Midoriya.”

He looks up at you a little woundedly. “Y’don’t want to?”

You wait a few long beats before answering a little honestly. “I mean… yeah but-“

You wobble a little as he starts to pull you in his direction, manhandled until you’re nearly hovering over his face. “W-wait. Midoriya, but you’re way too drunk! I don’t wanna-“

“Take advantage a’ me?” He slurs as he slides his head between your thighs, and you smell heavenly. “Been wan’in to do this like forever.”

He nuzzles his nose into your inner thigh as he reaches up to clumsily pull your panties to the side, breaths heated as you struggle in his grasp but his grip is unmoving.

“N-no wait!” You fumble. But even as you protest his hot tongue is already digging between your folds. “F-fuck…. Midoriya..!”

Vibrations send electric little waves up the rest of your torso as he moans contentedly underneath you. Sloppily dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to the quivering little hole feeding him so well, momentarily taking a moment to dip his tongue in and all but dig you out as you inadvertently hump against his face.

His hands are steely as he keeps his hold on your hips, sliding them lovingly up your torso as he coaxes you to ride his face.

“Ah,” And the way you whine has him moaning out again. “We-… We shouldn’t be doing this…!”

Midoriya presses you more into his face as he defiantly nods in disagreement. He says something too. Maybe a cross between “mhm!” or “yes, we should.” But he’s not too keen on ripping himself away to sound any clearer.

You mewl when one of his hands slide up your shirt to fondle with your breasts, roughly squeezing in handfuls as he thumbs at your pert nipple.

You start to push at his head. “Izuku! Fuck, Izuku…” He chases your clit even as his head presses further into the mattress. “God…. your tongue…”

He grunts, removes the hand groping your breast to stop you from pushing his head away and instead card through his air.

“m’gonna cum…!” You whine. “Fuck m’gonna cum….”

Midoriya nods. “S’okay,” He sounds drunker than ever, cheeks red and eyes glazed over. “Go ‘head, baby. Y’ can cum.”

You gasp airily before letting out a moan that nearly has him cumming in his boxers, desperately humping into his face as you finally cum with a cry of his name, and he groans as he devours it all.

You’re whining from over stimulation when he’s finally getting his last few slurps in, kissing the inside of your thighs before finally letting you roll over and letting out a sigh of content. “God, thank you.” He breathes. “You’re so fucking good.”

You silently catch your breath.

You’re half dozing off when you feel your panties being pulled down your legs.

“N-no, wait. Midoriya, wait-“

He pouts as he pulls himself out of his boxers and god are you not prepped enough for that. “What happened to ’Izuku?’” And his pupils all but dilate as he presses your shirt up your chest. “Call me Izuku again, it was so cute?”

You halfheartedly push him away as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Come on, wait!” You whimper. “You’re gonna regret this in the morning…!”

“Why would I regret this in the morning? ‘ve been wan’ing to do this since I met- fuuckkk!”

You gasp. You can feel him in your guts and he hasn’t even gotten the whole thing in yet. You’re all but sobbing from the pressure as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“s’tight!” He whines. “So fucking tight, princess. You’re milking me..!”

You dig your nails into his upper back as he lays his head in the crook of your neck and starts pistoning. He’s definitely rearranging your guts right now.

“s’too much, ‘zuku!” You mewl as he pants into your ear. “s’too deep! Fuck! You’re breaking me!”

“Mh yeah?” He lazes a few whiskey tinted kisses down your pulse point. “Ah- y’feel me in there? Feel me in your tummy?”

Midoriya lifts himself on one of his arms to press on your lower stomach and you all but convulse. “Look at how pretty this pussy is.” He lowers his hand till he’s rubbing attentive circles on your clit. “Takin’ me so well. Makin’ me feel so…ah… good!”

He’s lifting one of your legs and coaxing the other further when he lays his weight on you again, forcing his tongue in your mouth that still tastes like you.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” He pulls back and admits. “Always wanted you to be mine. And now you’re-“ Midoriya grunts. “Bein’ such a good girl f’me.”

You’re gonna squirt at this point. “You’re really suckin’ me in, huh? You want my cum?”

You whine.

Midoriya brings back his hips to push in a firm dragging thrust. “Good girls get what they ask for, baby.” He kisses the underside of your jaw. “Y’want it? You want my cum?”

“Ye- fuck!” You cry. “Yes! Yes!”

Midoriya groans. “Yeah y’do. Good fucking girl.”

Your back arches as his hips piston back and forth steadily into your core, creaming all over his cock as the way you pulsate around him has him clenching his teeth - and fucking into you even as you clench around his hot cum.

He whines as his thrusts finally shallow, slowing till he’s pressing as deep as he can and grinding his hips against yours, so desperately that the bed catches the current and the mattress wavers as he needily grinds himself in as deeply as he can.

It’s enough to have you creaming around him a second time, more managed seizing as your insides clench around him in the throws of your third orgasm and he cums again with a broken moan.

You can finally catch your breath when you reach up for him, carding your fingers in his hair before jolting a bit in his grasp as he rolls the both of you over.

You sigh. “Jesus, Izuku-“

Snore!

He’s asleep.

#sigh #is this who i am #is this who ive become #tw dubious consent #bnha x reader #bnha smut #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #smut #this is just nasty #bnha izuku #izuku smut

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mapofthesea · 2 years

Text

jungkook x fem!reader

non idol!au, domestic jungkook

genre: smut and fluff

word count: 3k

summary: After your midday nap ends in a nightmare, you seek Jungkook for comfort.

warnings: talk of a bad dream (some discussion of it but nothing crazy), needy Jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, face sitting, oral (f receiving), lots of love for readers tits, body appreciation in general, they're in love, handjob, some teasing/begging, jk is whiny but still in charge, dirty talk, unprotected sex in an established relationship (this is fiction, please don’t do this irl), jk cums inside, aftercare

an: This came to me in a dream again and I woke up far too early to write the outline. As always, I do not proof read (because I am lazy and spend enough time proof reading my college assignments) so if there’s any typos I apologize. This includes mature content and is for 18+ audiences ONLY, so if you are underage or uncomfortable with this content, please don’t read it. Enjoy!

A shiver wracks down your spine, hair standing at attention underneath the warmth of your thick sherpa sweatshirt. The remnants of your dark nightmare leave you confused, even as a gentle mid-day sun streams into your bedroom and the pleasant chirping of birds faintly greets you. Your head spins and your mouth is dry, but you ignore both of those feelings as you rush out of bed.

Flashes of the nightmare seem to stick to you, even with the sunny disposition of the day. The feeling of hopelessness and loss stings you in the short walk down the hallway into Jungkook’s office, where you had left him when you went to bed. The door is ajar, and the breath you exhale as you open it is punched right back out of you when you find the room empty.

Anxiety simmers within you, promoted by the way you had just dreamed about not being able to reach your beloved boyfriend. The only thing you can think to do is rush down the stairs clumsily, narrowly avoiding banging your elbow off of the railing as you fly into the living room. Jungkook is there, sitting on the couch facing away from you, mindlessly tapping through his phone.

A sigh of relief falls from your lips as you latch yourself around him from behind the couch. He startles at your touch and turns until he’s sideways, level with your chest as he peers up at you.

His hair is endearingly mussed, a few errant pieces poking up at the crown. His big eyes twinkle at you, irises searching your own when he sees the stricken look on your face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Of course he immediately noticed something was wrong. You can only imagine how crazy you look fresh out of a nap and a subsequent panic.

“Just a bad dream.” You offer, running your hands down the steady plane of his back, enjoying the tangible proof of him being alive and well. Jungkook makes a low keening noise at your attention, nuzzling into the soft fabric of your sweatshirt so far that you almost don't hear his muffled words.

“Wanna talk about it?” You finally make out his words, and the thought of rehashing the dream brings tears to your eyes. Your breath hitches a little as he settles his head on your chest. His weight is grounding, and the fact that you can smell his intoxicating mix of shampoo and cologne gives you enough power to choke out the details.

“You needed help, and you kept calling for me, and I couldn’t get to you.” You sniffle and he whines, winding his hands around your back to hold you impossibly closer. “And you just kept yelling my name and I couldn’t find you, and I thought that you were...” the word stalls in your throat but he understands, nodding against your chest. One of your hands slides to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the constant rise and fall of his breath. “I just needed to know you’re still here.”

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m right here.” His hands are steady on your waist, nose nuzzling endearingly into the space just under your breasts. His actions make you shiver for a completely different reason, and a shuddering breath punches out of you.

“Need me to prove it?” His voice takes on a teasing lilt that makes your stomach flip and you hum your affirmation. Jungkook moves deliberately, nuzzling his face against your covered cleavage. Even through the layers of clothing you can feel your nipples harden, begging for him to give them more attention. He mouths at your tits through the fabric, playfully biting at the flesh there just enough to make you gasp.

“Fuckin’ sweatshirt,” he groans, looking up at you with well practiced puppy eyes. He knows he doesn't need them, that you would do basically anything he asked you right now, but he loves to see the way your face softens at his expression.

“Please take it off, baby. I wanna see your pretty tits. Wanna have ‘em in my mouth.” The genuine desperation in his voice is nothing new but it still makes your brain short circuit a bit as you scramble to pull the sweatshirt off. As soon as the fabric hits the floor Jungkook’s hands push your t-shirt up over your chest, holding it up around your collarbones with one hand as he dives into your tits.

He has no shame in lapping at you, leaving trails of translucent spit around your nipples as you keen. Jungkook sighs happily as his free hand gropes what he can't fit in his mouth, which he’s using to leave a sinful pattern of bite marks all over you. He makes a particularly pointed mark inches away from your nipple that has your knees buckling. He chuckles a breath of air across your already sensitive nipple and your hands grip greedily into the back of the couch for support.

The way his head looks at it bobs between your breasts makes you dizzy, not to mention the deft movements of his tongue and hand sending sparks straight to your core.

“Taste so fucking good baby, as always. Shit. I love these fucking tits.” He licks a bold stripe across your right nipple before capturing it between his lips and you pitch forward into his touch. Your hands move too, desperate to feel something other than the plush of your couch under them.

Jungkook is so wrapped up in you that he doesn't notice your hands have moved until you’re palming his cock through his lounge shorts. He groans and nips at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

The feeling of him readily hardening under your touch makes you moan, head tipped back as you trace the familiar length through the fabric.

“Wanna touch you, Jungkook, please.” Your eyes water with tears and he coos at you, stroking his thumb underneath your eye to collect some tears.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Take my cock out while I suck these pretty tits.” His voice is barely more than a whine, but you feel confidence surge through you at the idea that you’re the one to make him this way. With no underwear on, it’s easy for you to get his cock out of the confines of his shorts. The weight and size of him is familiar and almost welcoming as you begin to stroke him the way you know he likes. You savor the feeling of his prominent veins as his cock jumps in your touch. His breath stutters against your chest in tiny puffs, giving away just how badly his resolve was slipping as you work your thumb over the head.

“Fucking shit, you have to stop,” his hands fall away from you, head tipping back as you stroke him particularly hard. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly.

You decide to ignore his words but only manage to stroke him a few more times before he pushes your hands off of him with a growl. His eyes are dark with lust, hungrily racing over your figure that’s back to being covered with your t-shirt. Your chest heaves as he tips his head toward the empty space on the couch, and even without words you know what he wants.

You settle into the couch and seconds later Jungkook is over you. You can see the way he’s pushed his hair off of his forehead, and the sexy crease of his eyebrows as he appraises you.

“Stupid shirt,” he mumbles as he helps you take it off, mumbling endearingly as it gets stuck on his hands while he tries to get it onto the floor. His own follows shortly after, and it doesn't take long before he’s hovering above you completely bare.

His cock stands at attention against his toned stomach and you reach for it, hoping he takes some pity and lets you return the favor of amazing foreplay.

“No,” he grunts as you make contact with him. A shy smile splits his face when he notices your pout and his demeanor softens despite the situation. Jungkook brings his face inches away from your own and smiles.

“You know I haven't even kissed you since you came down here? How awful of me.”

“Hmmm, worst boyfriend award pending,” you tease. He smiles again and his nose wrinkles adorably, teeth poking out in the most endearing way. Your stomach flips at his beauty, how lucky you are to have him.

“Fuck, just kiss me, please,” you breathe, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to feel his lips on your own. You keep a steady hold on the back of his neck as you kiss, clashing teeth as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hips buck involuntarily at his touch and his hands find a place at them, holding with a bruising grip. He disconnects from the kiss, planting one on your chin as your chest heaves with desire.

“My sweet girl, all worried about me in your dream, hm?” The way he’s able to change his demeanor so quickly during sex is something you love about him, and your head spins as he falls back into a more dominant personality. His fingers tease into the waistband of your bottoms, dancing along the delicate skin of your hips.

“Y-yeah,” you squeak out. Jungkook takes mercy on you and slides your bottoms down, leaving you bare to his gaze and touch.

“Wanna make you feel better now.” He sits up, surprisingly, and your eyes zero in on the way his cock bobs with the movement. His legs fold and unfold as he moves, and you’re confused until you realize he's laid himself down on the extended sectional of the couch.

“C’mere baby. Want you up here.” You obey mindlessly, crawling over him so that you’re on top now. Assuming he wants you to ride him, you position yourself just above his hips, hands planted on his firm chest. An incredulous laugh punches out of him as he reaches down for you, pulling you further up his chest until you’re-

“Jungkook, no.” You gasp, in disbelief of what you now realize he’s implying. His hands splay on your thighs and his eyes sparkle.

“Uh uh, no fighting me. We both know how much you love sitting on my face, so get up here. Wanna have you in my mouth.”

Your stomach contracts because you know he’s right, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of your head.

“Kook, I just had a dream that you..died, and I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jungkook grunts at your worry, pinching at the meat of your thigh.

“Baby, I’ll be just fine. Plus, if I’m gonna go, I would love for it to be while I’m buried in your sweet little pussy.”

His candor sends a new wave of arousal through you, and you know he’s right, so you nod and shuffle your hips up to him.

“Love you so much, Kook.” He smiles at your words and promptly wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you exactly where he wanted you. His tongue immediately splits open your pussy lips as his fingers flex into your skin and hold you in place. You can feel his nose pressing against your clit, rubbing the nerves in a way that makes your eyes roll. He makes short work of licking up every bit of arousal you'd already produced, but there’s no shortage of more as he endeavors to attach his lips around your clit and suck.

Your thighs shake around his head and you can heard his satisfied moans against your pussy. You feel like every nerve inside your body is on fire, conducted by the way his tongue knows the perfect places to devour. Your orgasm builds exponentially when he licks messy circles around your clit, the sloppy sounds of his spit mixing with your juices hurdling you closer to your end. Your toes curl as he groans again, vibrations going right to your core and coaxing your orgasm out of you. You gasp, unable to stop the tightening of your thighs around his head as you cum.

Forever the champ of eating you out, Jungkook continues to lap up your orgasm until you’re genuinely worried you might be hurting him and scoot back off of him. He lets you go reluctantly, staring up at you as you go.

His face is covered in the sheen of your cum, and his eyes are so wide and admiring that you almost want to cry.

“You're so hot, baby. Perfect little pussy.” He sits up and captures you in his arms, uncaring of the way your weeping pussy gushes against him.

You kiss him, and all you can taste is you, but you still feel so pleasantly high from cumming that you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. As your senses come back you feel his cock beneath you, and despite having just cum, you feel voracious for him to be inside of you. Jungkook kisses the soft spot under your ear and sighs at the contact of your throbbing pussy on him.

“If you're ready I am, baby. Need to cum in you,” the strain in his voice is obvious and so sexy, the evidence of just how much you affect him.

You can’t resist kissing him again, sharing the flavor between your tongues as he lays you back down. Although you haven't said anything, he knows your legs are far too tired to do anything but lay down and take it, and he’s more than happy to adjust for that.

He strokes his cock a few times, spreading his precum down his shaft in a way that has your mouth watering. Your legs fall open easily, never one to deny him or delay your shared pleasure. Jungkook moans appreciatively at the gesture, running his fingers down your slit before slipping two in.

You writhe at the unexpected contact, sensitive to his touch after cumming so hard on his tongue. Although you understand and appreciate his concern of making sure you're ready for his cock, you feel more than prepared for him after your first orgasm.

“Please don't fucking tease me right now, I need you.” Jungkook arches a brow at your desperate plea, a shit eating grin sprouting as his fingers stall.

“You need me that bad, huh? Don’ even need me to stretch out your little pussy?” He knows you can handle him, but the idea of making you admit it has his cock jumping again.

Your face flames with misplaced embarrassment, knowing exactly what he wants you to admit to.

“Y-you don’ need to because I came so hard, I-I’m wet enough.” You stutter it out and his smirk widens, proud of himself for making you admit it.

“My dirty little baby.” He steals another kiss as he guides the tip of his cock to you, running it over your clit until he can't take it anymore. Jungkook presses in slowly and you can see his pretty eyes roll back as he feels your walls envelope him.

Despite how wet you were, the sheer size of his cock means there’s always a stretch, but you work through it quickly, squeezing your walls around him once he has fully sunk into you. A string of praises falls from your lips as he thrusts into you, barely holding back. His hands squeeze the flesh of your waist as he fucks you, eyes bored onto the place where you connect.

It’s all you can do to keep from squirming off of the couch in pleasure as he fucks into you with a practiced precision, finding the perfect angle and speed and using it to his advantage to work you up quickly. The sight of him over you is something you never want to be without: lower lip captured between his teeth, hair slicked back with sweat, chest heaving with his effort as his thrusts rock you up the couch cushions.

When he finally unlatches his bottom lip from between his teeth, he makes the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard, interlaced with praises that make your own chest heave.

“Shit, you feel so good, my baby. My girl made for me, perfect little pussy that’s just for me.” His hands shake noticeably as he moves them; one to press down over your stomach and keep you in place, the other finding it’s place over your clit. You can tell he’s close when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, and he doubles his efforts by circling your clit with two fingers at a speed that would make your wrist ache. Your hands scramble to grab onto his arms, leaving crescent marks behind where your nails dig into his skin.

“Right t-there, Kook.” Your eyes roll and all words abandon you as your orgasm rushes in, churning your stomach in knots of pleasure as you moan Jungkook’s name.

“Got you, baby. Right behind you.” He cums seconds after you, giving short thrusts to pump his cum as far into you as possible. You enjoy the come-down together, gripping each other closely as the world returns. You still feel a bit like your head is underwater when Jungkook gets the energy to pull out of you, but you take his hand when he offers it. One trip to the bathroom later, you’re back where you began your afternoon.

This time Jungkook’s toned body is backing your own, fingers playing with the hair that splays around you on the sheets.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You nod, turning to face him. Neither of you bother putting clothes back on before crawling into bed, and you press your bare chest against his own.

“Good.” He grins and gives you a sweet kiss. “Next time you have a bad dream you let me know.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You gonna solve every bad dream with a good fuck for the rest of our lives?”

Jungkook laughs in the way he only does around you and your heart blooms.

“Sure, if that’s what it takes. Anything for you.”

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 8 months

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 3

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!Reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 / PART 2

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Oral (w receiving) hand job (m receiving). Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 6K

Author Note: Sorry it's taken me long to update we've had a death in the family and it's been a lot to deal with. Writing was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm just putting part 3 out there but once things are settled I'll write part 4. I'd like to think there'll be more parts than 4 because the story is now starting to pick up. But it depends on how well this part does. 🧡❤️🧡

Also, I changed part 2 slightly so it may be worth re-reading before reading part 3. 🧡

For those who asked to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with the story. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Curled up on the sofa beneath a cozy blanket, you slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the room's muted glow. Rafe's voice, a deep murmur, sliced through the quiet ambiance. He was sitting on the edge of an armchair, his phone held to his ear while his other hand absentmindedly glided over his buzzcut.

"Why are they stalling?" his voice barely above a whisper was undeniably firm.

"And their counteroffer? No. Not for a piece of that size. They're well aware of its rarity, right? The clarity? They stand to gain at least 40% profit once it's resold. They know it. I know it. Ninety, and that's me being generous." His fingers stilled their exploration, and his thumb wandered down to his bottom lip, hinting at the storm just beneath the surface. "No, it's non-negotiable. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, alright? But if they keep fucking around with the number, they'll soon find out I’m not so accommodating after all. No more games. I'm done with their shit—Ninety. Final offer."

Your heart pounded, every beat magnifying the gravity of Rafe's words. This was clearly far more than just ninety dollars; it hinted at an intricate web of dealings far beyond your understanding. While whispers of his dubious associations had always floated around town, hearing Rafe speak with such authority was jarring. The sheer force he wielded and the unmistakable power resonating in every syllable revealed that he wasn't just a small player in whatever this game was. He was at its very epicenter, a dominant force controlling the strings. And as this realization washed over you, a sinking sensation set in: you barely knew him at all.

"Now, about that other forty. I want it. Today." He let the words hang for a moment, his tone colder "You keeping office hours now? What the fuck do you mean 'after six'?" His voice tightened with irritation. "Nah, I don't want to hear that shit." he spat. "It's either you have it or you don't, and you should have it since you had one job yesterday; to collect."

Despite trying to stay unnoticed, your numbing arm forced you to shift slightly on the couch, catching Rafe's discerning eye. Rafe's penetrating gaze bore into you, suspending the world in a split second. Amidst the pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows, the weight of the silence pressed in until Rafe finally looked away. "I'll be there in an hour," he murmured, his voice suddenly calmer. "I have some things to take care of first."

As he disconnected the call, you swallowed.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice trembled as you propped yourself up on an elbow.

Rafe approached, confidence exuding with each step. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," he reassured, leaning in for a gentle kiss on your lips.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, give or take," Rafe responded, his thumb brushed away a stray eyelash from your cheek. The simple, tender gesture contrasted starkly with the side of him you had just heard on the phone.

You hesitated, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Did you manage to get much done while I was asleep?" Hoping for some insight into his earlier phone conversation.

Rafe's smirk held many layers. "Yeah, handled some business, made a few calls, and I might've watched you a little...."

"Watched me? You mean you just sat there and watched me sleep?"

He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Not often do I see you so… relaxed around me. So yeah, I indulged a little." He murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Besides, I like knowing I can make you feel good. Make you cum til you pass out. It’s up there with watching you squirt,” he grinned.

The change in topic, from shady dealings to fevered intimacy, was a dizzying experience, and you found yourself taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Listen," he suddenly said, leaning back to look you in the eye. “I have some business I need to wrap up. I could also do with a shower and a change of clothes." His gaze slipped down to his attire; he had changed back into his shirt, now less damp but very wrinkled. “What's your plan for dinner?

"Dinner?" You tried to keep up, the rapid change in topics leaving your thoughts scrambled. “Uh... Leftovers, I guess.”

“Wanna come over? Eat at mine instead?”

The invitation caught you off guard. The unexpectedness of it made you feel like you were navigating through a dense fog, with every step bringing a new, unanticipated revelation. But you nodded, despite the uncertainty coiling within.

Rafe's expression softened, picking up on your hesitation. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your ear. “You do know what this means, right? You'll have to deal with my company a bit longer. Think you can handle that without making a run for it?"

You tried to muster a playful retort, but his lips captured yours before you could speak, a deep, overwhelming kiss that made you weak.

Pulling back, he smiled, "I'll pick you up around six, yeah?"

“Okay.” Your voice was but a whisper.

As he moved toward the exit, the shadow of his phone call loomed over your thoughts. Only when you heard his truck roar to life did you finally exhale, sinking deeper into the sofa. Your mind was a whirl with questions you didn't know how to begin to ask, let alone answer.

By the time the clock struck 6, you were already fresh from a shower and dressed in jeans paired with a simple white vest top and an oversized cardigan. Right on cue, the low hum of Rafe's truck resonated outside, its headlights casting a gentle glow on your porch. After ensuring you had your phone and keys, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror and then headed out to meet him.

Suave as ever, Rafe leaned across his truck to push the door open for you. Offering his hand for support, he helped you up into the seat. A warm smile naturally bloomed on your face, and with a soft "Hey," you acknowledged his chivalry.

"Hey," he echoed, the familiar gravelly timbre warm and inviting. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a kiss. As you pulled away for a breath, your gaze wandered over him, taking in every detail. He smelt amazing, something rich and woodsy, while the crisp black shirt and jeans he wore accentuated his toned physique. It gave him that distinct, effortless style he carried so naturally — the very essence of a kook.

As you settled beside him, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. It wasn't a lack of confidence in your appearance—Rafe had always been vocal about how beautiful he found you. He had a candid manner of complimenting, and today's earlier affectionate proclamations were just another testament to his feelings. Yet, a nagging voice inside you questioned why someone as polished and affluent as Rafe would be into someone like you when he could easily have anyone from his own elite circle.

As the journey began, the ambiance in the truck was tranquil, but underlined by a tension you couldn't ignore. Rafe seemed to be miles away, his eyes barely leaving the road ahead and memories of his earlier phone conversation played on repeat in your head. Could his aloofness be about the business deal you overheard? Did something go wrong? The only breaks in the silence were his occasional clearing of his throat or sniff, causing you to swallow hard and stare out of your passenger window to calm your nerves.

When you exited the vehicle at Tannyhill a rush of nostalgia hit, interwoven with memories that weren’t as endearing. It was weird being there now for pleasure rather than work and at the behest of Rafe not Rose. Possibly sensing your hesitation, Rafe gently grasped your hand, leading you toward the entrance. As he swung the front door open, an overwhelming quiet enveloped the surroundings.

"Is Rose and Mr. C around?" you asked, noting the dimly illuminated hallway that stretched toward the kitchen and beyond.

"Nah, they're in the Bahamas. Business trip. They'll be there for a while." Rafe replied, his voice echoing in the quiet expanse of the house.

"What about Wheezie?"

"She's with them.”

"And Sarah?"

Rafe's face twitched slightly. "Don't know, don't care. Haven't seen her in, what, three weeks? She could be in a ditch for all I care—" His gaze met yours, "I'm kidding," he smiled. Yet, a flicker of something shadowy behind his eyes made you think otherwise.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Rafe gave a nonchalant shrug, "Looks like it."

Entering the kitchen, your eyes flitted to the island, noticing several neatly stacked pizza boxes. "Planning a feast or what?"

His grin broadened, revealing the playful side you always adored. "Thought you'd be hungry after your day. Vegan, pepperoni, or drowned in cheese. Take your pick."

Laughing, you approached, your finger tracing the edge of the closest box. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Rafe pulled you closer, warmth radiating from him. "Well, yeah. Gotta keep my girl happy and fed,” his voice husky as he leaned in for a kiss.

After devouring slice after slice and transitioning from the kitchen to the cozy ambiance of the living room, you and Rafe settled in, surrounded by plush cushions and the soft glow of the floor lamps. As conversations ebbed and flowed Rafe's gaze followed yours, landing on the Steinway.

"Do you want to play something?" Rafe asked lips curling into a small smile.

"Oh no you don't.” you said with a shake of your head. “I'm not falling for that, again.”

Rafe leaned in, his grin widening. "What do you mean?" he prodded, matching your playful tone.

"Every time I play, we end up..." You left the sentence hanging, heat creeping up your neck.

Rafe leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "We end up doing what?" he asked with faux innocence.

You gave him a knowing look, your eyes saying everything that words didn't need to. Really, Rafe?

"I like when you play." he said slowly with a shrug.

"I know you do... a little too much," you replied, your voice laced with humor and a touch of fond exasperation.

“Alright, don’t play.” He said with a sly smile as he patted the space beside him on the sofa. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, nestling close, the comfort of his warmth enveloping you.

Lost in a dance of gentle touches and lingering glances, Rafe pulled you closer. With each soft, deliberate kiss, the world outside faded away. His fingers toyed with the collar of your cardigan, his middle finger hooking the fabric, gently sliding it off your shoulder, as he peppered your skin with slow soft kisses.

"I think... yeah, this is the least clothing I've seen you in, not including earlier today," he murmured against your skin. "I like it. I like being able to have access to you."

As he spoke, his fingers ventured under the back of your vest, soft digits skimming upwards past your bra strap to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His affectionate kisses stirred a profound desire within you, compelling you to cradle his face and initiate a fevered kiss of your own, a blend of lips and intertwining tongues.

"Stay," he murmured, his words a gentle plea brushing against the corner of your lips. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Tonight?" you questioned quietly, a hint of uncertainty tinging your voice.

"Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you like," he shrugged, his tone revealing a deep yearning. His candidness took you aback, causing your heart to flutter.

"I have a class in the morning," you responded, your hesitation evident.

"Of course, you'd have class on a Saturday. Who takes a class on a Saturday?"

"It's for extra credit," you playfully huffed.

"I'm sure it is, you lil freak.” Rafe remarked with an amused smile as he bit down on your shoulder. You hissed in response to the sudden, sharp pain. He immediately soothed the area with his tongue, a slow and sensual gesture that had you pressing your thighs together.

"What time?" he murmured against your skin.

"Hm?" you managed to reply, your mind struggling to focus.

"What time is your class?" he repeated, his lips still dangerously close to your neck.

"Ten," you answered, regaining some semblance of coherence.

"Okay," Rafe said, his voice low and husky as he made plans. "I’ll drive you home, you grab your stuff, and then I'll take you to class…" His words trailed off as his lips grazed the soft skin of your neck once more. He paused, pulling back slightly to search your face, his gaze filled with understanding. "But it's not just about your class, is it?" There was a knowing look in his eyes, a hint that he comprehended some of your apprehension, even though it remained unspoken.

"Don't…" you began as you licked your lips. "Don't you think we might be moving a bit fast?" you whispered. The pace of things had taken a sharp turn; just yesterday, you were literally hiding from him, and today, not only had you let him finger you into a coma you now found yourself wrapped around him like a scarf, his hand exploring beneath your clothes like he owned you. It was only natural to worry that things were progressing way too rapidly, burning too brightly, and possibly destined to fizzle out just as quickly as it had started.

"Nah, I don't." Rafe drawled as his nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling your scent. “If we were moving fast, I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

You jerked your head away, staring at him with wide eyes while Rafe smiled, clearly enjoying your worried expression.

"What?" you asked softly.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafe nodded, “In fact, I would have fucked you quite a few times by now, in every position I could think of.” he said nonchalantly. A deep chuckle escaped him as he relished your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “But I also get that all of this is new for you, so..." his fingers traced your jaw. "We’ll take it slow. Until I can't hold back any longer."

"Rafe!" you breathed, and he threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed, his eyes sweeping over your features like a tender caress. "I'm kidding."

"So if I stay over..." you began, shifting nervously in his embrace. "We’re not..."

"Nah, we won't," he assured, understanding your apprehension. “But I can't promise to keep my hands or mouth off of you. It’s only fair, right? After all the stress you’ve put me through.” He murmured.

“Stress! I give you stress-”

“So much fucking stress” You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your cheek, and you wondered if he could tell you were blushing. “Stay,” he said again, his tone resolute, treating it as the final word on the matter.

"Alright... I'll stay."

As the night wore on, the comforting cadence of your conversation intertwined with the weight of the day, gradually lulling you into a drowsy state. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy, Rafe kissed your temple softly. "Come on," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you up the winding stairs to his room.

Stepping into Rafe's bedroom for the first time, you were taken aback. The space was pristine, a stark contrast to the wild, chaotic tales of mayhem that accompanied him. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned books on his desk to the immaculately ironed shirts in his open closet.

Rummaging through his belongings for a brief moment, he emerged with an old jersey and a pair of shorts. "Here, try these” he suggested, handing them to you.

"In just one day, we've exchanged a lot of clothes” you said with a soft chuckle.

Rafe's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, if you want, I'm happy for us to ditch the clothes altogether."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Keep dreaming, Cameron."

His response was accompanied by a sly, teasing grin, "Oh, I already have." As he began to methodically unbutton his shirt, his captivating eyes held yours in a magnetic pull. Although you had already seen him shirtless. Tonight, the ambiance carried a different weight. There was an intimacy in the air that made your cheeks flush, causing you to divert your gaze to the wooden floor.

"I'll just… uh, freshen up before bed," you stammered, trying to find an escape from the mounting tension.

"Sure," he said, pointing towards a door on the side. "Bathroom's right there. There's a pack of toothbrush heads in the cabinet; help yourself."

"Thanks," you replied with a grateful smile, seizing the opportunity to step out just as the sound of his belt buckle being opened reached your ears.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you sank to the edge of the tub, your hand pressing hard into the porcelain, feeling its cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

Sharing a bed with Rafe wasn’t just a simple act of two people sleeping side-by-side. It symbolized a budding intimacy, a fragile trust slowly unfurling between the two of you. And yet, the weight of his weird phone call pressed heavily on your chest. Could you really trust someone whose life seemed tangled in webs of secrets, lurking just beneath the surface? Could you willingly let yourself be drawn into his world, knowing full well it could be dangerous?

Biting your lip, you pushed those turbulent thoughts to the back of your mind, you changed into the clothes he had lent you and brushed your teeth. After a lingering glance in the mirror, searching for some kind of assurance, and taking a deep, steadying breath, you braced yourself for the night ahead and headed back to the bedroom.

Rafe was already cozied up in bed, the soft light from his phone casting a glow on his face. He had changed into a pyjama pants his chest bare.

"I haven't even left the room for two minutes and you're already sliding into some girl's DMs?" you teased.

As Rafe met your gaze, warmth filled his eyes as he admired your appearance, clearly liking the way you looked in his clothes. “The only DMs I'd ever slide into are yours, but I've already got the real thing." he casually remarked, his voice carrying a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, your nose scrunching up at his comment. "Damn, that's some next-level cheesiness. You're quite the cheeseball, you know that?" you teased.

A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Only 'cause you're a sucker for cheesy romantic gestures. That shit gets you wet." he replied with a small smirk.

Mouth agape you looked at him flabbergasted only for Rafe to downright smile his pearly white teeth on full display.

“Rafe! You really can't go five minutes without turning something sweet into something, just--" You playfully tossed a pillow at him which he caught. Pulling you to him Rafe planted a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom.

With Rafe momentarily out of sight, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The reality of sharing a bed with him was nerve-wracking. Sliding beneath the soft covers, you felt the smooth sheets against your skin, their coolness momentarily providing a reprieve from the weight of your racing thoughts.

The bed, although large and spacious, suddenly felt like a confining space. Each moment of hesitation, every heartbeat, every fleeting memory of your past interactions echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Sharing a bed with someone was always an intimate act, but with Rafe, the stakes felt higher. It was more than just physical proximity; it was about letting him into the vulnerable spaces you had never shared with anyone including your heart.

As you laid there in the soft glow of his side lamp, you tried to focus on the present. You reminded yourself that Rafe said you'll take it slow. Tonight was about simply connecting, not necessarily about taking a step further.

The bathroom door opened, and you saw Rafe's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He approached the bed, his movements careful, perhaps sensing your apprehension.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

You took a deep breath, "Yeah, just...thinking."

Rafe sat down beside you, his hand gently caressing your arm. "If you're not comfortable, we can figure something else out."

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. "No, it's not that. It's just as you said... It's all new. But I want to be here. With you."

Rafe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Alright we'll take it one step at a time, yeah?"

With that assurance, you snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. "One step at a time" you repeated softly.

As your eyes flutter open, the silhouette before you takes shape, dominating your field of vision. Gradually, your gaze adjusts, revealing the familiar features of Rafe as you shake off the remnants of a deep dream. The surroundings come into focus bit by bit. The early hour is apparent; it's so early that the outside remains cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a luminous full moon.

You had drifted to sleep cradled in Rafe's embrace but now he's beside you. His touch is a gentle caress, his thumb tracing the smooth curve of your jaw. He regards you openly, his gaze intense enough to cause warmth to spread across your skin, prompting you to look away. You wondered how long he had been staring at you... touching you...

"What time is it?" Your voice is a soft murmur, barely breaking the tranquility of the moment.

"Four thirty"

"Can't sleep?" you asked softly.

Rafe shook his head no. "Can't sleep, either huh?" he asked his words tender.

You manage a small smile, "I think I'm just not used to sleeping in someone else's bed."

Rafe nodded in understanding. "Maybe I can help with that, hmm? It worked pretty well last time.” Gently Rafe turned your face towards him and leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart flutters as his kiss lingers, his tongue delicately exploring yours.

Sheets thrown back, your jersey inches upwards, as Rafe moves on top of you, his lips creating a scorching trail down your neck and further south. Each feather-light kiss ignites a tingle, intensifying as his tongue meets your nipple. His lips move lower, soft kisses meet your sternum while his fingers brush the edge of your shorts and underwear, prompting your hands to instinctively stop him.

"We won't go all the way," he promises in a voice thick with longing while lust blown eyes stare up at you. “I just want a taste. One little taste. I deserve it, for being patient.” His lips linger around your navel, and you grant him a hesitant nod. Gently, he removed your shorts and underwear, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Despite your urge to shield yourself, Rafe, ever-so-gently, parts your legs, positioning himself in the intimate space between. His lips graze your hip, making your skin flutter. "Ever had a guy go down on you before?" His voice is an alluring mix of curiosity and yearning.

With a deep breath and a gentle shake of your head, you whispered “No”

Rafe smiles at your answer, his lips brushing your skin again. "So many firsts," he murmurs seductively.

His attention returns between your thighs, teasing and exploring, with soft kisses leading to your mound. His head drops lower and he slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. The sensation is a mix of ticklish delight and sinful pleasure prompting a soft gasp from your lips.

Rafe licks you slowly, teasingly, humming in approval with every wet swipe of his tongue. The swirl of his tongue between your folds begins to overwhelm you, and you try to pull away only for Rafe to firmly yank you back, his grasp keeping you anchored to him and your legs spread.

His tongue stops its gentle caressing and probes deeper, his lips nestling against your sex while his tongue hungrily delves within.

“Ooh—” you whimpered, tremors shooting throughout your body with each stroke of his tongue. His enthusiasm grows as he drinks in your reactions, his own moans blending with yours in a symphony of pleasure.

“Too much- too much- ah-” you squirm when his tongue began to flick at your clit.

Pulling away from your wet centre Rafe licked and sucked on your inner thigh. “No- you’re fine.” Rafe commanded, his determined gaze pinning you in place. “You’re fine. Just relax...”

He guides your hand to his buzzcut and as your fingers move hesitantly over his head, he returned to lapping skilfully at your pussy.

“Oh, my god, Rafe-" you whimper, your fingers scratching at his scalp as you buck underneath him.

Wrapping his arms around your legs, Rafe continued to lick your wet centre until you’re shuddering. He pulls his head back slightly. You could see his mouth shiny with your arousal, a smile curling his lips.

“Fuck, you taste sweet. Like honey.” his voice is like gravel, raw with pent desire. “Nah, sweeter than honey...” He muses. His fingers part your soaked pussy lips exposing your swollen clit and his tongue lovingly suckles it while his fingers tease around the entrance of your tight hole.

“Ohmygod, ohplease…"

"Yeah? This what you want? Want me to finger your sweet little cunt?” he chuckled teasingly.

"Please… please…” you beg, until finally he sinks his middle finger in you. You let out a cry as he slowly worked his finger back and forth within you, stoking your walls and coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

The feel of his tongue lashing at your clit, his finger twisting deliciously, along with the unrelenting focus of his gaze, hunger blazing in his eyes, has you moaning in abandon.

Your back involuntarily bows off the bed, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your fingers curled the back of his head.

It’s glorious when you cum.

A kaleidoscope of colour appears behind your closed eyes, created by the vibrations of Rafe groaning in approval and the succulent swirl of his lips and tongue.

Rafe removed his finger and his tongue quickly replaced it, delving deep into your creaming pussy. His nose pressed against your clit as he noisily slurped and lapped at you. The explicit, wet sounds of him devouring your pussy so raw and unashamed create a beautiful symphony that fills the room.

“Holy shit ha—“ you gasped with a smile. Sudden, swipes at your clit with his tongue had you oversensitive, your hips twitching with aftershocks.

Your eyes open, landing on Rafe still positioned between your thighs. With a tenderness that belies the moment's raw passion, he places soft wet kisses on your inner thighs, grounding you in the present. The weight of what has transpired gradually dawns on you – the unexpected progression from kissing to oral, something you hadn't anticipated, let alone think you'd enjoy as much as you did washes over you.

Before you can overthink, you lean in, initiating a passionate kiss, fueled by a desperate hunger intensified by the taste of yourself on his lips.

Rafe's fervor shows no signs of waning. He pushes you back against the pillows and then crawls over you, his desire unmistakable. Bracing himself near your head, he slowly lowers his pajama pants, causing your eyes to widen as you gaze downward.

He's big.

Big, long and thick.

Suddenly, his cockiness and confidence makes perfect sense. All that big dick energy. Naturally, you find yourself yearning to feel his raw power. Want to feel him thrusting inside you. Yet amidst this desire, a sudden thought emerges—a fear that you might not be able to handle all of him. You might not be able to please him fully when the time comes.

Rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it along his already weeping cock, and you feel him tense up and take a sharp breath as your fingers make contact. Encouraged by this reaction, your other hand wanders over his body, feeling the hardness of his abdomen. Both hands now explore him with curiosity and hesitation.

"Like this…" he murmurs. With his hand over your own, holding his cock, Rafe sets a pace which brings forth soft moans from his lips. He moves his hand away to watch you carry on without him, completely entranced by the sight before him.

Clear pearls of pre-cum bead at the tip as an indication of how turned on he is by your touch. Rafe leans in to kiss you passionately while taking your hand once again and leading it up to his sensitive tip.

“Right. Here," he breathes into your mouth as he tells you to focus there. Your fingers instinctively curl tightly around the mushroom tip, fisting it as you become more confident, eliciting groans from Rafe's lips.

His hand moves from your fingers, finding its way to your throat. It curls around your neck in a possessive grip, while his lips reconnect with yours. His moans escalate in intensity, his desire palpable, and his voice becomes choppy. 'Keep going... keep going... just like that, baby. Just like that..."

Closely following his gestures and facial expressions. Your gaze remains fixated on his captivating face, magnetized by the range of emotions playing across it — the awe knitting in his brows, the quickening pace of his breath, and the roped corded muscles of his neck as his body became rigid.

"Fuck....” He releases a long sigh, color creeping up his chest, throat, and cheeks. “Long strokes- long strokes…” He commands his voice cracking. You obey, your hand stroking his length from root to tip. Your fingers glide easily, lubricated by his pre-cum.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he muttered something inaudible, but soon they found yours again.

"I want to fuck you so bad. I’m tryin to be patient. I’m tryin, but god I want to fuck you… I need to fuck you...” His voice trailed off into a desperate whimper, deep from the very core of him. His hips swayed to the rhythm of your hand as he fucked into it, each thrust quickening in pace.

"How?" you find yourself whispering in awe, astounded by the shift in power between you. You've heard him bark orders, so full of confidence and dominance, yet here he was wrecked and vulnerable. You would be lying if you said you didn't relish your newfound power. "How would you do it, Rafe? How would you fuck me?"

Rafe stared into your eyes, cock twitching in your grasp.

"I want to watch you ride my dick... watch you scream while you squirt all over it..." His confession hangs heavy in the air as he bares all before you.

"What else, Rafe? What else do you want?" you whisper, your fingers gently circling your clit while your other hand worked his cock.

"I wanna fuck your mouth. Want to fill your soft, pretty mouth with my cum. Watch you swallow it." His fingers softly brush against your lips, his middle and index finger pressed at its entrance. Entranced, you twirl your tongue around his digits before greedily sucking them into your mouth. Rafe utters a throaty groan before removing his fingers, his lips crashing onto yours in a crude kiss.

"What else?" you moaned, rubbing your clit and stroking his cock faster.

"Want to fuck your ass," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Have you on all fours - make you fucking take it.”

"Oh god, Rafe-" you whimpered, eyes wide with shock. You’ve never had a guy talk about doing sexual things to you let alone anything so vulgar. And yet- you could feel your orgasm on the brink of flooding your senses just from his words.

“I want to fuck and fill every part of you and I know you’ll let me. I just know you will…” Rafe repeated softly, confidently, "Do you know why? Hm? Why you'll take whatever I choose to give you? Why you'll let me fuck you however I want?” He whispered his eyes boring into your own. “Because you're hungry for this just as much as I am. You want me. Just as much as I want you.”

His dark words sent you spiraling into a chaotic climax. Crying out in pleasure, waves of euphoria washed over you, causing your hips to involuntarily jerk and thrust up off the bed.

In harmony with your climax, Rafe reached his own. Droplets of his thick white cum painted your bare stomach and thighs. His body trembled with pleasure, his breathing stuttered, while his throbbing cock continued to pulse in your grasp.

His moans, raw and desperate, are tinged with a clear sense of relief. It's the relief that comes from finally having his pleasure reciprocated by you, even if only through the gentle touch of your hands, and the utter bliss that this brings.

Breathless Rafe collapses back against the pillows, his trembling hand found yours once more, and together you slowed the rhythm of your stroking, savoring the final drops of pleasure from his spent cock.

Exhausted but utterly content, Rafe closes his eyes for a moment. When they open again, his dilated blue pupils are fixated on you. He cracks a satisfied grin.

He doesn't take his gaze away as you observe your hand. It's covered in his cum, an indicator of his pent up desire for you. Without uttering a word, your hand moves towards your lips, and curiously, your tongue tentatively darts out, brushing against your fingertips.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, earthy and slightly salty and yet uniquely him. You moan as your tongue continues its exploration, carefully cleaning each digit.

"Fuckkk..." Rafe groans before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating your face and the figure beside you in a soft, dappled glow. But the tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a glance at the time on your phone.

You were late.

Terribly late.

For someone who valued being on time, the day was already spiraling out of control. Scrambling into your jeans, you noticed Rafe stirring, his sleepy eyes meeting the clock, then your frenzied actions. Silently, with a steadiness you envied, he started dressing.

Your vest and cardigan from the previous night lay draped over a chair. Snatching them up, you slipped them on in a rush.

Rafe's offer to drive you to class was a godsend. Ten minutes later, freshened up and emerging from his bedroom, you expressed your gratitude with a beaming smile. As you walked past him, Rafe playfully swatted your butt, eyes twinkling with mischief. You let out a playful yelp, your laughter blending with his soft chuckle as you admonished him, promising to get him back later.

At your house, you grabbed your bag, textbook and notes in a flurry. You considered changing outfits but ditched the idea after another anxious glance at the time. It was only a two-hour class anyway and wasn’t worth the additional stress. As you darted to his truck, a realization hit – your dad was coming home today. Another night at Rafe's was certainly out of the question.

During the drive, you explained the situation to Rafe, expecting, perhaps even bracing for, a hint of disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded. Now, as the silence stretched between you, you were wrestling with the idea of revisiting the words he'd uttered last night. But decided it wasn't worth mentioning. They were merely fantasies after all—desperate things said in the heat of the moment, just to intensify the experience... Right?

As he pulled up in front of your building he leaned in to kiss you. You cut it short with an apologetic smile promising to call him later.

No sooner had you settled into your seat than your phone vibrated. It was a message from Rafe.

"Friend's having a party tomorrow night. Think your dad would be cool with it?"

A pause ensued as you deliberated, finally responding. "Should be. But I don't have anything to wear. Is it a bonfire type of thing?"

His reply was swift. "Don't worry about it. Shopping later. My treat."

A surge of conflicting emotions threatened to spill over as you absorbed his words, your fingers quivering slightly over the screen. "Rafe that's too generous. I can't."

But his resolution was clear even in text. "Why? You're with me. Right?"

You paused, chewing on your lip. It wasn’t lost on you what his words meant. What they implied. "Yes. But are you sure?"

He sent back a single word, filled with resolve: "Always."

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Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, commenting and reblogging. 🧡🧡🧡 Part 4 coming soon

MASTERLIST

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