#<- Finally asking after several months of not saying a word

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Thirty One[FINALE]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: After over a year of writing this story, we finally are at the end. I have so many things to say yet I think I will bask in the moment for a little bit before I bore you with my emotions. So please take this for now: Thank you all so fucking much for your endless love and support for this silly little fic. It started off as a simple request(i hope you're still around 🎧 ). But it brought me so many friendships. I owe you all so much. Forever grateful for every single one of you.

My inbox will forever be open if you want to talk about the finale. 🖤

Huge thank you to my loves @blueskylinesx and @artificialbreezy for your endless support and helping me with the vows. I love you both immensely.

Angel and Mochi forever. 🪽🍡

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @dsireland86 @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-mee @respectfulrebel @malerieee @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @sideeyenoah @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @amelia-acero @karenfrancoespinosa-blog @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

READER

ONE MONTH LATER.

“Noah,” I choked out while gazing up at the familiar home with tears filling my eyes. 

He stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin resting on top of my head. We both swayed with the sudden rush of wind which caused Noah to hold me tighter, bringing the warmth from his body to my own. 

“Are you mad?” He asked. 

I couldn’t remove my eyes from the SOLD sign on the front yard of the familiar house and the key Chase was dangling in front of my face with a shit eating grin. A month ago on that night underneath the fairy lights, Noah proposed with the ring hanging on Kuma’s new collar. When I found the ring and looked over at Noah that night, he said two simple words. 

“Marry me.” 

I accepted before he finished the words, nearly tackling him to the ground. We connected that night underneath the fairy lights, his cock slowly dragging in and out of me while I rocked my hips up into him. Afterwards, we lay together tangled underneath the stars with the blanket barely covering us as we talked about our wedding plans. Our conversation during our many 2pm Facetime calls was something we both remembered fondly. 

With a hesitant sigh, I nodded. "Japan is just such an important place to me, for several reasons. I have this little fantasy that I’d run off and get married there. It's so peaceful and quiet with my closest friends and family. One and done romance type shit."

Noah stiffened while scratching his chin.

"What? I freak you out, girlfriend?" | joked with a teasing smirk.

He chuckled nervously. "No. I- uh, who's the groom?"

"I don't know, never got that far. It's always been the small child in me's dream."

It took some time with many nights of wondering if I was worthy enough but I found my groom. 

So when we broke the news to everyone two days later, wanting to bask in it privately beforehand, we told everyone that we’d be getting married in Japan. But with the future shows both Bad Omens and Hollow Souls had planned, we knew we would either have to push off the wedding for a couple years or get married before the shows. 

Now, a month later, all of us were in Japan for our wedding that was happening in a few days. It wasn’t anything big and lavish, something small with our family; some old and some new. 

“You bought my dad’s house?” I asked while peering over my shoulder at him. 

Noah turned me around so I could face him head on and pressed my hands against his chest, the diamond on my left ring finger catching the light of the setting sun.

“I contacted a realtor shortly after we left about buying your dads house. It didn’t feel right letting it go to someone else. Your dad lived here for half of his life, Y/N. It deserves to stay in the family,” he explained. 

I blew out a shaky breath while resting my head against his shoulder, those strong arms wrapping around me yet again. 

“Thank you.” 

Noah brushed his lips over my forehead. “You’re not mad I bought a house without asking you? Especially your dad’s house?” 

“Not at all. I was at a dark point in my life the last time we were here that all I wanted was to forget about this place. But I’m so thankful you bought it,” I slipped my hands up his sweater over his stomach, grazing my nails over the warm skin. 

Chase stepped into my view as my face was buried into Noah’s chest and he was twirling the key around his finger. “We replaced most of the furniture you had sold before you put it up on the market. Noah hired a paint crew to come through and put a fresh coat everywhere. It’s like a new house but still has the old bones of when your dad lived here, if that makes sense.” 

Stepping out of Noah’s embrace, I pulled Chase in for a hug while smushing his face into my chest and kissed the top of his head which due to how tall he was made it difficult. 

“I love you, bud.” 

He grumbled under his breath while pushing me back into Noah’s embrace and adjusting his messed up shirt. Even with his teasing, I could see the love in his bright blue eyes. 

“Keep it up and you’re walking yourself down the aisle,” Chase taunted and then turned on his heels to walk over to Malcolm, who had been unloading the rental car. 

As the two of them shared a kiss, I called out to them while Noah and I continued to stand on the front step of our new home. 

“I’m going to drag you guys down the aisle with me if I have too!” 

Noah chuckled, brushing a kiss across my lips. “I can’t believe we’re getting married.” 

“I know!” I giggled while wrapping my hands behind his neck. “Do you think we kind of jump the gun, though? We don’t have a venue. The only thing we have planned is my dress, your outfit, and the bridal party.” 

“About that,” he sprawled his hands over my lower back as everyone else moved around us, bringing in their suitcases into the house. 

It was decided that we all would stay here because we had plenty of space. 

“How would you feel about getting married in the backyard? I know it might not be your dream wedding but I just thought it would be perfect. Lots of space for all of us, privacy fence so no one can spy on us, and the girls already have an idea on how to decorate it. If you’re alright with that. We don’t want you to feel pressured-.” 

I placed a hand over Noah’s mouth to stop his rambling. “Mochi, you know you ramble when you’re nervous?” 

He nodded as I continued. “We could literally get married in the bedroom with just us two and it would be my dream wedding.” 

Matt suddenly appeared over Noah’s shoulder. “Technically it wouldn’t be legal unless you had someone who was ordained.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let my hand drop from Noah’s mouth only to link my fingers with his as we began slowly walking up the rest of the way towards the front door with Matt. 

“Speaking of being ordained, did you do what you needed to?” Noah asked. 

“Yes. I am officially ordained in Japan,” Matt wore a big smile. “So I get to marry my best friends.” 

“How’s Dove feeling?” I asked while motioning towards Matt’s cousin, who was off to the far side of the yard with Faye, having their own conversation. 

“She’s okay, might take some time but she’ll get there,” Matt nodded while stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I appreciate you guys letting her come, given you don’t really know her.” 

Noah waved him off. “Dove is your cousin, Matt. Which means she’s family, just like you.” 

“I’ve always watched out for her when we were growing up so whatever I can do to protect her, I’ll do it.” 

Once Matt left us to run towards Faye and Dove, I felt Noah squeeze my hand which caused me to gaze over at him with furrowed brows. 

“Did your mom ever call you back?” He wondered. 

I scoffed, doing my best not to let the anger I felt festering inside of me not ruin the whirlwind high we’d been feeling since our proposal last month. 

“Nope. I left her a voicemail all three times that I called her to tell her what’s going on,” I answered. 

Noah’s shoulders fell. “Does that make you upset?” 

“Honestly?” I shrugged. “Not really. She’d never been around for any other big moments of my life. I have everyone here that’s important to me. That’s all that matters.” 

With a smile, he motioned towards the house behind me. “Are you ready to go inside?” 

“Oh,” I muttered as my shoulders fell because I realized that this would be the first time I stepped inside my dad’s place since his funeral. 

Well, now I guess it would be our house.

Glancing over my shoulder to the front door less than a few feet in front of us, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. Chase and Noah mentioned that it was basically a new house inside with a fresh coat of paint and new furniture. Deep down I knew that even though everything was new inside, my dad’s spirit would be lingering there. 

“Yeah,” I finally nodded while looking back at him. “I’ve been telling myself it’s a fresh start, ya know?” 

With a tender kiss to my hand, Noah led me through the front door as we took the first step together towards our future. 

READER

“What the fuck!? JOE!” I yelled while pushing away from the table and running towards the familiar face that had just walked into the ramen restaurant. 

Joe broke out in laughter as I nearly tackled him to the ground. “Hey kid.” 

All of us were having a little makeshift rehearsal dinner at a ramen place that my dad loved the night before the wedding. We all made plans for when Bad Omens, ERRA, and Hollow Souls played Inkarceration. Then spent most of the night reminiscing on past memories. Every so often, I’d catch Noah looking at his phone before letting his gaze linger on the door of the restaurant but never thought much of it. I’d been in a deep conversation with Dove as she talked about what happened when she was on the road a month ago. 

“What the hell are you doing in Japan?” I asked Joe after pulling away from our hug. 

“Oh you know, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come by to say hello,” he playfully smirked. 

I rolled my eyes as I felt Noah walk up beside me, giving Joe a handshake. “Thanks for coming. I know it was kind of last minute.” 

Joe waved Noah off. “All good. Thank you guys for the invite.” 

My stomach dropped when I realized from the craziness of the last month, I’d forgotten to invite one of my good friends. Forever thankful that Noah thought of it, I rose on my toes to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“You thought of everything, huh?” I breathed in his ear. 

Noah looked at me, something mischievous in his ember eyes. “You have no idea, angel.” 

Dragging both Joe and Noah back to the table, we all eased back into the dinner and every so often I’d feel Noah squeeze my thigh before inching his fingers up closer to my core. With the amount of people in the house, we decided that we would hold off on sex until our wedding night. 

Needless to say, both of us were extremely wound up but I kept telling myself that it would all be worth it in two nights' time when we finally had the house to ourselves.  

Once we all finished dinner, we all piled out of the restaurant with a suggestion from Nicholas to check out the local market in town. While most of the group dispersed in their own directions, Noah and I found ourselves alone for the first time in hours. 

“I’m so stuffed,” Noah groaned while rubbing a hand over his stomach. 

I wrapped my arms tighter around him while burying my face into his chest as we walked down the market block in Japan. 

“Are you happy you finally got your real ramen?” I teased while poking his chest. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Noah brushed a kiss along my forehead as we walked through the crowds of people that gathered at the market. Earlier before dinner, I’d bought about four different mangas that had characters on the cover that looked like Noah, something he made sure to grumble about. 

“How the hell does this Yamada guy look like me?” He asked, utterly confused while holding up one of the mangas. 

I snatched it from him, holding it close to my chest. “I bet if I found a picture of you with this exact hair cut and did a side by side comparison, you’d see I’m right. Too bad you cut your hair yesterday.” 

Noah’s hair had been unruly lately so with the wedding coming up, he’d shaved the ends while still keeping the levi cut up top. Even though I'd always love his longer hair, I had to admit he looked absolutely gorgeous this way as well. 

“Y/N, look,” Noah pulled us to a stop, his arms around my shoulder, and pointed in front of us. 

Following his long finger, my eyes landed on a familiar older figure standing at one of the book tents in the market. 

“It’s older you!” I squealed, a little too loudly. 

The older gentleman looked over towards us at my outburst and when the look of remembrance crossed his face, he gave us a small wave. 

“Well, look who it is!” Older Noah smiled while walking over to us. “What are the odds I’d run into you guys in Japan?” 

Throughout the years, this was the third time we’d run into the older gentleman and his wife. The first time at the coffee shop back when Bad Omens and Hollow Souls toured together, the second time when Noah and I spent the afternoon at the pier where he bought me ice cream, and now here in Japan. Yet it was then that I noticed he was alone. 

“Ah, yes,” Older Noah tapped the book against his chest when he noticed me looking around. “My Allie passed away a month ago.”

Both Noah and I sucked in a breath, something the older one waved off. “Please, no pity. She lived a good and long life before the Alzhiemers took her.”

“Are you in Japan alone?” Noah wondered. 

“No,” the older one shook his head before adjusting his glasses. “My granddaughter, Lori is around here somewhere. What brings you two to Japan?” 

Noah linked my hand in his and brough the ring up to his lips, peppering it in kisses. “We’re getting married.” 

Older Noah’s eyes lit up at the news. “Well, good for you two! I still remember seeing you two in that coffee shop so long ago. The love in your eyes when you looked at her.” 

A crimson hue covered Noah’s face and I giggled while swinging our hands together. 

“I can’t explain it,” Old Noah began while flipping through the book he always seemed to have with him. “Something told me that I’d be running into you two again and soon which is why I made sure to bring this book with me. I read it to my Allie almost every night since it was her favorite.” 

Through the hustle and bustle of the market crowd, we barely could hear the soft sob that fell from Older Noah’s lips before he continued. “Since there’s no use for it anymore, I think I’ll give it to you two as a wedding gift.” 

Noah shook his head. “We can’t. That book means a lot to you-.” 

“Nonsense,” Older Noah smiled. “Please take it. My Allie would want you to have it.”

Gently I took the old book from his shaking hands and immediately brought it to my chest. “Thank you, Noah. You barely know us but for you to trust us with something so special to you, means a lot.” 

He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his tan coat. “You two remind me of me and Allie when we were young.” 

My Noah pressed a kiss to the side of my head and pulled me into his chest. “Do you have any advice for us to make our marriage last as long as yours did?” 

Older Noah gave us a faint smile while someone from behind him waved after him, calling his name. 

“The second you stop loving each other and pretending that your love story isn't real is when one of you starts to think you’re not worthy of the other.”

Just as a young woman tapped her hand on Older Noah’s shoulder, Michael appeared next to me, almost out of breath. 

“Whatever you do, don’t ask Dove for a race. She’s way to fucking fast,” he took a large gulp of air. 

“Grandpa! You can’t just wander off like that,” the woman next to Older Noah chastised him while adjusting her red cat eye framed glasses. 

Something in the air shifted around us when Michael and the woman, who I assumed was Lori the granddaughter, caught sight of each other. I could see something change inside of Michael as his eyes lit up with something I recognized so often in Noah’s eyes. 

Tapping my Noah’s chest, I glanced over at him while Michael introduced himself to Older Noah and Lori. 

“Think we can add two more to our guest list?” I asked. 

Noah smirked. “Already two steps ahead of you, angel.”

NOAH

Hiding a yawn behind my hand, I eased back into the couch a bit more while stretching my long legs out farther. The house finally settled down, all of the girls retreating to the larger bedroom to do whatever girls did the night before a wedding while us guys were scattered throughout the living room. Joe was staying at a hotel down the road and he left a bit ago. 

Both Nick’s and Jolly were on one of the couches trying to decide on what to watch. Matt was pacing the length of the kitchen practicing his speech for tomorrow. Chase and Malcolm were in the office working on a special project for Y/N for tomorrow. Davis and Bryan were playing a card game at the kitchen table. 

Michael, however, was still out on his walk with Lori. After our encounter yesterday, they exchanged numbers and Michael asked her if she wanted to go out on a walk with him.

I was sitting on the couch with Jesse next to me as I scrolled through listings on my phone. Earlier today when Y/N and I were talking about our future after the wedding, the topic of where we would live came up. Even though we both knew Michael and Jesse would never kick us out now that we were married, Y/N felt it would be better for us as a couple if we finally had our own place together. 

So after discussing it with her and promising I wouldn’t buy another house without her permission, I had been texting her every possible listing I found. Y/N’s main concern with every single one: Is it too far from everyone? 

She knew my end goal in life, after everything settled down in Bad Omens so she understood why I kept sending her listings from far. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

Jesse shifted on the couch next to me causing me to glance over at him. “How’s Salem and Kuma?” 

“JT said they’re good. He took Kuma on a three mile run earlier so he’s currently passed out in the middle of his kitchen floor,” Jesse chuckled. 

Since most of us were in Japan, we needed someone to watch Salem and Kuma. JT immediately offered when Jesse brought it up. 

“Have you found a place yet?” He asked while motioning to my phone. 

I sighed while dropping it to my lap so I could rub out the stress from my temples. “There is one that looks promising. Has everything we need. But the neighbors are about a mile away which is a little too close for us. We envision complete solace. Is that bad?” 

He shook his head while running a hand through his unruly curls. “Not at all. It’s fine to want some privacy. I mean, it’s why you guys are thinking of moving out anyway.” 

“I know,” I nodded before showing him the listing. “It wouldn’t be so bad if one of you guys moved in next door since the house next door is for sale too so maybe I could talk Y/N into buying both so we can have extra space. I emailed the relator earlier so now it’s the waiting game. ” 

Over my laughter from my joke, I nearly missed the way Jesse let out a low hum as he clicked on the listing for the house next door. 

THIRD PERSON POV

A soft breeze blew through the bright cherry blossom stems, bringing a sense of calm to everyone who sat, patiently waiting to watch a harmony of two people becoming one. They all waited with baited breath for Y/N to emerge from the back door while Noah stood at the end of the aisle with Matt. Noah radiated nerves and did his best to keep his shaking hands hidden behind his back so he didn’t run them through his hair. It had been slicked back perfectly for the wedding and he couldn’t risk messing it up before Y/N saw it. 

Even though a lot of aspects of their wedding wasn’t traditional, Y/N still wanted to keep some parts. They hadn’t seen each other since late last night after Noah and her snuck into the bathroom for a sweet kiss goodnight. While the guys got ready, the girls went out for breakfast. When it was time for Y/N and the rest were time to get ready, all of the guys went for lunch. Anything they could to stay away from each other. Noah didn’t want to risk ruining her big moment so he did his best to stay far away from her; even if it was killing him on the inside. 

Noah was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up shirt, something he didn’t wear often. On the lapels of his dress shirt were angel wings pins that connected with a golden chain. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing not only his tattoos but also the silver bracelet; the one that mirrored Y/N’s. 

Matt bumped his shoulder with Noah’s. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m going to throw up all over my shoes,” he admitted with a staggered breath. 

“Just take deep breaths like Dr. P instructs you. It’s just Y/N, no need to be nervous,” Matt assured Noah before pressing down the front of his shirt. 

When Matt asked Y/N last night if he could still wear his hat during the ceremony, Faye immediately smacked him upside the head causing said hat to fall to the ground. 

“These are your best friends, Matthew! You’re not wearing a hat during the ceremony!” Faye chastised him. 

So now, here Matt was standing next to Noah, ready to officiate the wedding while wearing a black button up with pants to match and his blonde locks pulled back into a low bun. Faye couldn’t stop staring at him as she stood off to the side, one of Y/N’s bridesmaids. 

Astrid was the maid of honor, followed by Tay and Faye as bridesmaids. On Noah’s side it was Nicholas as the best man, given their years of friendship and history. Jesse and Joakim were the other two groomsmen. Although they had a big family, Noah and Y/N decided on keeping the bridal party small. 

The backyard was littered with vast amounts of Japanese lanterns that illuminated the space around them as the sun was beginning to set. There was a large cherry blossom tree in the yard where Noah stood, waiting for his bride. A few petals managed to fall off a branch with a sudden gust of wind and lingered on his shoulder. As he was about to brush them away, there was a soft voice that seemed to whisper in his ear, halting Noah. Just as the patio doors opened, a butterfly landed on the other shoulder and that voice from earlier spoke in his ear again. 

“Think I’d miss this?” 

Noah’s eyes snapped over to the two empty chairs in the front row. One with a picture of Y/N’s father and the other, the one that had his immediate attention, was a picture of Keaton. 

“Glad you’re here, buddy,” Noah spoke under his breath. 

The speakers that Matt had set up in the yard began to play a familiar tune; an instrumental version of You and I. Like a lot of other things in their wedding, the song that Y/N chose to walk down the aisle wasn't the typical song played at every other wedding. They wanted to be different, to show that their love was different than anyone else's. Their love story wasn’t like any told in existence or written in books. 

The clouds above in the sun kissed sky opened up to let those rays paint the figure at the end of the aisle who was flanked by Chase on one side and Malcolm on the other. Suddenly, a flash of every moment between them flashed in Noah’s eyes; the good, the bad, the private ones. Everything they’d gone through the last couple years, from the moment he stepped off the tour bus to right now. It was all worth it. 

Noah was worthy. 

Y/N was worthy. 

And now, in a matter of minutes, their bodies and souls would collide while they danced together in the moonlight as the stars aligned for them. 

The moment Noah’s eyes locked with Y/N’s, all of the breath had been stolen from his lungs. He felt frozen in a time loop, trying to gather if this was real life and he wasn't still stuck in his dreamstate. Tears welled in his eyes as he let out a choked laugh when he saw Malcolm needing a moment before they began their walk towards Noah. 

It was evident that everyone was affected in some way or another by seeing Y/N in her dress. Malcolm blew out a few deep breaths before he nodded over to Chase. 

“I’m ready.” 

Chase raised a brow. “You sure? We can wait another minute if you need.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No the fuck we can’t. Noah is waiting for me.” 

She was thankful her hair was pulled back by an angel wing hair clip with only a few strands falling in her face because the heat emanating from her body brought a thin sweat to her skin. 

“Alright,” Malcolm hooked his arm with hers again. “Let’s get you married.” 

With the song still playing, all three of them took a shared breath, before they began the walk down the shortened aisle. While everyone's eyes were on her, Y/N only had eyes for one person. 

Noah. 

Who currently had tears rolling down his face and made no effort to wipe them away. On one of his shoulders was a few petals from the cherry blossom tree above him while on the other shoulder there was a pretty blue butterfly that made no effort to move. She noticed the angel wings pin on the collar of his shirt as when her gaze fell to the buckle on Noah’s belt, Y/N sucked in a breath. 

Her dad. 

Noah wore her fathers belt buckle that had his initials. Her dad only wore it on special occasions and he had it in the family for the last 30 years. 

As she walked past all of her friends, Joe gave her a wide smirk with a wink; an action that told her one thing. 

Told ya you guys would be here. 

For a brief moment, Y/N remembered how Joe was there for her when they toured together and assured her that the break between Noah and her were exactly what they needed to get to this moment. 

The invisible string that bound them together began to vibrate deep within their chests as Y/N closed the distance to Noah. All day, she’d felt sick because of the nerves that ate away at her. But now that she stood in front of him, all the worry fell to the grass beneath her feet. 

With kisses from Chase and Malcom to her cheeks, they gave Y/N away to Noah who took her hand happily. 

“Hi, angel,” he let out a giggle. 

“Hi yourself, mochi,” she blew out a shaky breath. 

One they stood across from each other, Y/N handed her bouquet of Violets over to Astrid while Faye handed her something special. 

“Before we get started, I have something for Matt,” Y/N spoke while placing a hat on top of Matt. 

The word Officiant was bold and large in white letters on the front. 

“Oh thank god,” Matt let out a long breath while adjusting the hat. 

“There’s the Matt I know and love,” Y/N smiled before linking hands with Noah again. “Alright, now marry us already because I’m dying to kiss Noah.” 

A chorus of laughter echoed in the backyard before finally settling and Matt cleared his throat. Even with the shaking of nerves from Noah, the butterfly on his shoulder didn’t falter and that’s when Y/N got a good look at the three dots on one of the wings. While Matt began his speech, a flutter of wings caught Y/N’s attention for a brief moment. A butterfly with black and yellow stripes landed on her wrist as she continued to hold Noah’s hand. She sucked in a breath when the realization hit what kind of butterfly it was. 

A Japanese Luehdorfia.

Y/N’s father spent a lot of his free time while living in Japan studying butterflies and these ones were his favorite. With the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder and the one on her wrist, the final two guests had arrived. 

“I love you,” Noah mouthed to her as Matt rambled on about how everyone has a soulmate in their life. 

Y/N squeezed his hands. “I love you more.” 

“Alright everyone knows how much I love to yap but now it’s time for Noah and Y/N to exchange their vows,” Matt smiled as he took a small step away from them to give them their own space. 

Noah cleared his throat before taking a deep breath and did his best to calm the rapid beating of his heart. 

“This is about to be long so please bear with me,” Noah jokes. 

Jesse parted his lips to say something but with a sharp glare from Tay, he snapped his mouth shut. 

“Angel, I never knew truly just how much my life would change when we got the call about us touring together. When we met, I was in a weird place in my life but never knew that in such a short amount of time that everything was going to be okay again. Every moment spent with you that summer was something I could never forget; I didn't want to forget. That was the summer I knew we'd be here, together.”

Y/N squeezed Noah’s hand, both of the butterflies still resting on them, as he continued on with his vows. Everyone realized that he wasn’t reading from something, everything he spoke came from his mind on the fly.

“There was always something that held us away from each other, whether we sucked at communicating. More so, I really sucked at communicating. Or the fear that I wasn't worthy to be loved so strongly by you. The world stopped moving when you walked out that hotel room door. Which is why I made a promise to myself never to see you walk away like that again. Everything that's happened in our lives has led us to this spot. I wrote some silly little words in a hotel room years ago "Would you say I'm worthy?" and not a day goes by where you don't find a way to show me I'm worthy of you. That bracelet on your arm where the butterfly rests, Every morning you're in my bed, every time you burst in the room to share with me an idea for a song or painting you have. After all that time, after all those tears and pain and wondering if I was worthy, I can finally say out loud that we both are worthy. I won't drown you out, and I will wait for you no matter where we are. You were my angel before, and you're my angel now and forever.”

Y/N brushed away the tears with the hand that didn’t have the butterfly resting on her. “Thank Hades for waterproof mascara.” 

With his eyes lingering on the silver chain and locket hanging around Y/N’s neck, Noah continued on. “Y/N, I spent so much time overthinking the past, where it slipped away all the time we let escape from the both of us while we tried to heal ourselves so we could be better for each other. At first I succumbed, kept myself numb while I tried to deal with the fact that I may be losing you. But I was not okay, I was not alright. How many times have I survived trying to feel like I’m alive? Never being able to change and get outside of my own head. I thought I knew that you couldn’t change me anyway but that’s where I was wrong, Angel. Because you had already changed me.”

Something shifted in the air around everyone and the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder began flapping its wings, almost like it was ready to take off. Y/N saw something ignite in the dark embers of Noah’s eyes as he spoke the final words of his vows. 

“I was a helpless mess but you stole my pain, Novocain. You made me feel alive the moment I first saw you. I know now that I no longer have to survive because now, I have something that makes living so worthy. It’s you. In time the price we pay in pain brought us eternal peace. There is no Angel without Mochi, and there is no Mochi without Angel. I look at you right here before me and the same voice that’s been with me from the first time I met you is singing that it’s all okay. Everything is okay Angel, it’s you and me until forever.”

Just as Noah finished his vows, the butterfly on his shoulder fluttered up into the air to fly around both of them before shooting up into the air. 

Swallowing thickly, Y/N adjusted her wrist to grab the papers that Astrid held out to her and yet again, the butterfly on her wrist remained unmoving. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to follow that?” She chuckled. 

“You can’t,” Noah winked. 

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N took a centering breath and began reading from the papers in her hands. 

“Noah, or Mochi if you will, I was stuck in an endless cycle of never knowing what love truly felt like. I spent so many days and nights wondering when I would bloom. The day I stepped off that bus and saw your face is when I started. I couldn't help myself but wonder if the look in your eyes was real or not, I was so scared you wouldn't see me for more than what everyone made me out to be. Yet you never saw that version of me that people created. You only saw me.”

“That day in the hotel when I walked out, I felt my world break. I knew at that moment it was you and only you but I was so scared I wouldn't be what you wanted or needed. I was so worried I was holding you back from the life you dreamt so heavily of because of my condition. You never saw the endometriosis, you never held those struggles against me. You love me despite all my faults.” 

“Those are not faults, Y/N,” Noah wiped a tear away from her face. 

Leaning into his palm, she pressed a tender kiss. “I know. It took a lot of sessions with Dr. Poulos for me to realize that I can't let my condition define me, shout out to her for that and put my head on straight.” 

Everyone let out a small chuckle of laughter as Older Noah watched with a faint smile on his lips because he knew how well his Allie would relate with Y/N and their shared conditions. But with his granddaughter sitting next to him, Older Noah knew that a miracle could happen for them as well. 

“I came from a broken home and was made to believe on one side that I wouldn’t get this; would get this life I created on my own and with you. I was told that no one would love me despite my condition. Not only you, Noah, but everyone here never saw me differently. You all took me in like one of your own, took Chase and Malcolm in. You all were a family but let us in on that first day of tour.” 

Bryan snapped away picture after picture, cementing these vows forever with something Y/N and Noah can look back on. Especially when the butterfly on her wrist finally moved for the first time and now rested on her abdomen while Y/N spoke the final proclamation of her love for Noah. 

“I always knew it was safer by your side and knew I just had to give it time. Chase and Malcolm always told me "if you can keep the love alive, you'll survive." It was so deep in my soul and I held on to that. Noah, from the moment I walked in your house for that party to the moment we finally admitted it was always going to be you and I. You will forever be worthy of my love. Every breath I take will be for you, from now until the last and after that, meet me in the epilogue so I can find that smile. Mochi, our stars aligned and I'll keep them there for as long as you let me.”

By now, there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd, especially Nicholas who watched his best friend bounce on the soles of his feet. Noah was ready to kiss his bride. But first, they exchanged rings. 

“Well,” Matt cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his emotions. “We’re going to skip over the part where I ask if anyone objects because we all have been waiting for this to happen. So with that being said, by all the powers invented and by that one website, I announce you two husband and wife. Noah, for the love of the Gods, kiss your bride!”

Right as Noah reached for Y/N’s waist, the butterfly fluttered away in the same path the other had done moments ago. With a wink, Noah pulled her to his chest and brushed his lips across hers. It was slow at first, both savoring the moment as the world faded away around them, then all at once the pace increased as the invisible string between them tied the final knot to connect their souls once and for all. 

“Mrs. Sebastian,” Noah brushed his nose across Y/N’s. 

She broke out in a fit of giggles while wrapping her arms around Noah’s waist to bury her face in his chest. “About fucking time.” 

THIRD PERSON POV

The moonlight glimmered high in the sky, bathing everyone in the yard in a luminescent glow. It was well into the evening, everyone calming down from the long day of celebration. 

After the ceremony, Noah and Y/N immediately went into the house where Nicholas had his tattoo equipment set up. They each got one simple tattoo on the inside of their wrists. 

Worthy. 

Now they sat together in one of the large outdoor chairs with Y/N in his lap as Noah buried his face in her neck. His heart would not stop beating wildly in his chest because finally, after all the hell they overcame, they were finally where they were meant to be. They danced together for the first time as husband and wife to Just Pretend-Acoustic; the same version Noah sang to her the night he proposed. 

Jolly and Astrid hung off to a secluded corner of the yard while he rested a hand over her bump. She was only a few months along but now she was showing which caused Jolly to not stop wearing that bright smile. He was beyond proud of the family he created. 

Faye and Matt were in the middle of the made-up dance floor as she rambled on about all the little ideas she loved about the wedding and how she wanted their wedding to go. Matt listened intently without saying a word, simply watching his fiancé with adoration in his eyes. 

Tay was sitting with Dove, both of them giggling about something, while Jesse watched from a distance. He’d been planning things all evening in his head, mapping out his life and it was evident in the way his heart lurched in his throat when Tay continued to laugh that he was feeling an emotion that was new for him. Closing the distance between them, Jesse extended a hand towards Tay, who titled his head at him. 

“May I have this dance?” He asked as Repay by The Plot In You began playing through the speakers. 

Tay glanced over to Dove, feeling bad it was interrupting their conversation but the brunette waved her off. “If you don’t dance with your man, I’ll push you into him.” 

Once Tay was finally in Jesse’s embrace, they began to slowly move about the yard and he brushed his forehead against hers. 

“I love you,” he proclaimed for the first time. 

Tay’s eyes widened and leaned away from Jesse to get a good look in those chocolate boba eyes. “What?” 

He cupped her cheek to lay a small yet forceful kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, darlin. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, I just needed to-.” 

“I love you too. So fucking much, Jesse. I’ve realized it for a while but was so afraid you wouldn’t feel the same yet.” 

As new love blossomed, new beginnings were starting for Michael and Lori as they sat in front of the bonfire as they divulged about themselves to each other. Bryan and Davis offered to take Older Noah back to the hotel and were booking rooms for everyone else because for the first time in a week since they first arrived, Noah and Y/N would be alone. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Y/N whispered in Noah’s ear as she continued to sit on his lap. 

“You do?” His brows peaked as his cock twitched underneath her. 

She said nothing, simply pressed a kiss to his cheek before sauntering into the house. 

READER

I shook out the nerves from my hands as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The white lace stood out against my complexion and I double checked to make sure my breasts were pressed up perfectly. Turning to the side slightly, I peaked at my ass that was barely covered by the end of the lingerie. When I found it in the store a few weeks ago, I knew immediately I had to buy it from the angel wings alone. 

I never wore anything like this for Noah before which is why I was extremely nervous. While our sex life was extraordinary, I was still very unsure on how he felt about me dressing up in something like this. 

“Stop being a pussy!” I pointed at my reflection. “You’re hot. You married THE Noah Sebastian!” 

I quickly shook my head. “No, he married THE Y/N L/N, well now Sebastian. But that’s beside the point. You are going to bring this man to his knees. He loves you and would fuck you even if you wore a potato sack.” 

Realizing I was still rambling to myself, I shook my head and quickly spritzed myself with my perfume; Noah’s new favorite of mine that smelled like peaches. Fluffing out my hair, I gave my reflection a curt nod before flipping off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. The house was quiet, only the floor creaking beneath my feet as I crossed the hallway into the bedroom Noah and I dubbed ours. We decided to make my dads bedroom the new office, the old office our bedroom, and still keep the guest room the same. 

As I walked into the bedroom, I saw Noah sitting on the end of the bed with his gaze down on the floor between his feet. He’d changed out of his wedding attire and wore only a pair of red briefs. His shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath as his hair dangled in his face but made no effort to brush it away. When he played with the new black band around his ring finger, I took in the sight of the new tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the same one I had. 

Worthy. 

Clearing my throat, I stood a few inches in front of Noah with my hands behind my back, trying hard not to knock into the ends of the angel wings. His head snapped up from the floor and when they landed on my form, his pupils bled darkness. 

“Uh, do you like it?” I shifted on my feet, waiting for his answer. 

Noah was still silent, only keeping his eyes on my breasts that were barely hidden underneath the white lace. He made no move towards me which made me start to second guess this idea. 

“This was stupid,” I muttered before turning on my heels. 

A hand shot out to grasp my hand, halting me, and when I glanced back I saw Noah staring up at me. 

“You’re a literal fucking angel,” he mused before yanking me down to his lap. 

The head of his cock pressed against the thin material of his briefs and I bit back a moan when I felt it brush along my core. 

“My angel,” Noah praised while fingering the end of the wings. “Keep these on.” 

I raised a brow at him while brushing away the hair from his face. “The wings doing it for you, Mochi? Do you want to chase me through the woods while you wear your mask and fuck me with them on?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” he groaned while dragging his teeth over my collar bone. 

With his hands on my hips, Noah guided me along his cock as I let my head fall back in bliss. I’d been wound up all week due to us deciding not to be sexual with each other and knew that if he even breathed on my clit, I would orgasm. 

I gently pushed him away from me to lay him down on the bed while I fell to my knees between his legs. 

“Oh fuck,” Noah ground out while letting his head fall to the bed as I dragged his briefs down the length of his thick legs. 

My lips parted over the leaking head of his cock with my fingers wrapping around the base. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips when I sank my mouth down on him. 

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned with pleasure as I took my time with him. I wanted to savor the way he always tasted. 

"Angel," Noah warned. “Please. I need you."

I popped off of him and wiped away the drool from my chin as I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

“For my wife? Yes I am.”

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again. 

Neither of us wanted to wait any longer so he undone the buttons of the lingerie teddy to expose my bare cunt to his awaiting cock. His eyes snapped up to me for a moment so I gave him a nod right before he guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan.

Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, his hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning. But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

Having my husband inside of me made my soul come alive. 

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation, the coil in my stomach pulling taut. Noah’s eyes jumped to the silver chain around my neck and gripped it with force to pull my lips down to his, devouring me 

“Mine,” Noah demanded while fucking up into me. 

I let out a silent yell when he hit the spot that made my spine ignite but the chain tightened around my throat, nearly cutting off my airway. 

“Say it,” he panted. “Say your mine, Y/N.” 

“I’m yours, Noah. Forever yours.” 

He attacked my lips with so much force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke, and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Cum for me, Noah. Fill me up, please. I need you to cum with me.” 

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, nearly crushing the angel wings,  pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but a matter of air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her husband, and my toes curled when I finally came apart, Noah slowly falling behind me. 

THIRD PERSON POV

As Y/N and Noah lay together in a mess of tangled limbs, both coming down from their shared high, he let the sounds of her deep breathing ease him into his own slumber. Her discarded lingerie and wings lay scattered on the ground and Noah made a mental note of asking Y/N on how she felt about hanging them up in their home. 

He couldn’t stop watching her sleep with a smile that no one could erase. She was his. Finally Y/N was his wife and he would do whatever he could to make her happy. 

Long fingers dragged up and down the snake tattoo on her back, almost like how he had the night they first lay together. The long day was coming to an end, the new chapter of their lives began tomorrow, which caused Noah to sweat all over because he couldn’t help but let the anxious thoughts creep in.

Take a breath, Noah. It’s okay. 

Doing just that, he eased into the warmth Y/N proved and rested a hand on her stomach, finally letting himself succumb to the darkness. 

“Love you, mochi,” she mumbled into the skin of his chest. 

He kissed her forehead. “Love you more, angel.”

The rain that surrounded them in the beginning was no longer something that drowned them. It couldn’t rain all the time. Their love was forever unbroken. It created lines upon lines of memories, some old and some new. It brought about friendships that tied together as one family. All because of a miracle that had yet to present itself. They were no longer afraid of the wars that were waged against their sins. They weren’t okay in the beginning but their love proved that they no longer had to pretend. They waited each other out and Y/N would forever stay until morning. 

All because they both were worthy.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Cursed but funny: Tuvok transitions... and so does T'Pel. They are still straight, just t4t about it

Alternatively: Tuvok and T'Pel are both bigender and they take turns so there's always a wife and a husband, it just varies who's who

Incorrect! Bigender/Trans Tuvok is not cursed at all and is in fact a blessed image, sight, thought etc v_v Please rise and salute Mz Vulcan!!!! That IS undoubtedly a funny scenario though - they are forever destined to be Husband & Wife. Imagine worrying for several years that your wife might leave you for being trans and then you meet with her again and she's your husband and the only thing that changes is you're HIS wife now. This is T'Vok's life.

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

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

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

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

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

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

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[suguann]

✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.

tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]

masterlist

You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.

(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)

She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.

You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.

It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.

You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 

(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)

Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.

This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 

You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 

You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.

You should stay awake. 

You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—

Your luck runs out that day. 

It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.

When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 

“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.

The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

That was several weeks ago. 

Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 

The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.

“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.

You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 

And that is really saying something.

It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.

This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 

(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”

You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.

Until he evidently catches you again.)

He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 

Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.

You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 

Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 

If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 

Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.

You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 

But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.

Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 

Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.

He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 

You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 

Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.

Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 

It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 

They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.

Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.

“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).

A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  

Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.

Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 

(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)

You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.

You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—

He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.

His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.

"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.

You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.

Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.

"In my lap."

Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.

“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.

He grunts, apparently in confirmation.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.

“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”

Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”

And then—

Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.

Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.

“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”

[daisynik7]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 

Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.

Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 

You. Need. Cock.

And you think you know exactly where to find it. 

Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

Whatever you need, I’ll be here.

I’m here for you if you need me.

Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 

You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”

He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 

You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 

You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.

His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 

“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 

“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 

He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”

“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 

He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 

He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”

Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 

He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”

You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”

He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 

You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 

To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 

[lemoncrushh]

bad idea

short lil summary: harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.

warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms 18+ ONLY!

word count: 7k+

a/n: it's almost 4:30 am and i just finished this lol. no need to wait, right? hope you enjoy!

Twelve years. Twelve years you’d been in love with David Styles. Ever since that day in the middle of your sophomore year of high school when he’d shown up as a new student in your Geometry class. Immediately, you’d recognized how cute he was - much cuter than any boys you’d known. And when he’d sat down across from you, and Mrs. Jacobs had asked him a question, to which he’d replied in a British accent, you were a goner.

But your love then had only been the unrequited kind. He was nice enough. He was never mean to you or talked down to you. In fact, you could even say you were friends, albeit the “at-school” kind, not the kind who hung out outside of school.

And you had been fine with that, for the rest of high school. He’d had girlfriends, most of them much prettier than you considered yourself to be. David was outgoing, popular. So you’d just resolved to being happy with whatever it was you were.

That is, until last year when fate took a twist, and you’d somehow become more than friends. You’d run into David at a mutual friend’s party and hit it off. You could say it was as if you’d picked up where you’d left off in high school, but that would be a lie. You hadn’t seen David since graduation, and you’d doubted you had even been on his mind. But he’d been on yours. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

The breakup had not been pleasant. That is to say, it hadn’t been mutual. After dating for several months, David decided it was time to see other people. You took that to mean he was already doing so, and was finally ready to let you go. You’d cried for days, unable to sleep or eat. The love of your life had broken your heart and crashed your dreams.

You think it was Marcie, or maybe your friend Deliah who finally got you out of bed and out into the world again. Though you hadn’t dated anyone since David, you had begun to feel much better about yourself, and realized there were other fishes in the sea.

Going to this party at Trevor’s loft hadn’t been your idea. But Marcie was seeing some guy named Ian who happened to know Trevor, and she insisted you come along. While you didn’t really know Trevor well yourself, he had been part of David’s circle of friends in high school. He apparently now owned a loft in the city that housed a bar. After some persistence, you finally agreed to go, hoping to God David wouldn’t show up.

The drinks were flowing, the chatter filling the room as you stood beside Marcie and Ian in a conversation about who knows what. For the last half hour, your eyes had been scouring the loft for your ex. Not because you wanted to see him, but because you didn’t. And if you got so much as a glimpse of him, you had already planned out your exit.

Trevor had greeted you at the door, welcoming most everyone who entered before making the rounds and making sure all hands were holding beverages. Deliah had come as well, with her long-time boyfriend Shane and they were currently at the bar for their second round.

“Ready for another?” Ian asked Marcie, noticing her glass was nearly empty.

“Sure,” she beamed at him.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“Oh, um, no…not just yet,” you replied. “I think I’ll make a stop at the ladies’ and then maybe walk around a bit.”

With a nod, Ian took your empty glass and you made your way to the restroom. Once you’d freshened up, you decided to make the rounds and check out the rest of the loft. You liked the ambiance - the exposed brick with industrial lighting and chrome countertops. Loud rock music permeated through the sound system, thumping through your veins. As you turned left, you noticed another extension with tables along the walls. Several people sat with their drinks in hand, chatting. Your eyes scanned the perimeter, taking in the various framed vintage posters, and you were just about to turn around when a set of male eyes caught your attention. They were staring right at you, a hand grasping a glass of beer. When you gave a gentle smile, he smiled back, full lips curling up to expose a set of dimples.

He was cute. Really cute. But probably too young for you. While his handsome features adorned a bit of facial hair, he still had a baby face. He wore a plaid button-down, and a cap set backwards on his head. He was probably some frat boy, you mused, barely twenty-one.

You saw him bite his lip as his gaze roamed down your body. To escape the feeling it gave you - chills, the good kind, right down to your core - you thought turning around and heading back the way you came would be the best idea. But fate wasn’t having it as you bumped into someone, nearly spilling the drink in his hand.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed over the Bon Jovi song that currently played through the speakers.

“It’s okay,” the guy chuckled. “I was trying to go around you but you turned. No harm done.”

You smiled with a sigh, grateful that he wasn’t an asshole. As you made your way back to the main part of the bar, you considered taking a sneak peek at the frat boy, but decided against it.

“Hey!” Deliah called out to you when you strode up to the bar. Wedging herself between you and another woman, she leaned into your ear. “Did you see him?”

“See who?” your eyes popped. “David’s not here, is he?”

“No. His brother Harry is though.”

Blinking several times, realization came to you. You’d forgotten David even had a brother. Harry had been younger than the two of you, a freshman when you were seniors. By the time you and David had become an item, his little brother had gone back to the UK.

“He just got back from college,” Deliah added. “Or uni as they call it over there.”

“He’s back from England?”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s super smart, got some kind of masters or something. He’s already gotten job offers both here and there.”

“How do you know all this?” you chuckled.

Deliah shrugged with a wink. “I’ve heard things.” Then she leaned forward again. “No, actually I saw him come in, and I thought he looked kind of familiar. I asked Trevor who he was.”

“Oh,” you nodded. Though Deliah had gone to your high school as well, she was two years younger than you, and you hadn’t really known each other then. You’d finally become friends after school. But it made sense why she would have recognized Harry since they were closer in age. You doubted you would recognize him. In fact, you hardly remembered what he’d looked like.

“Anyway, he looks really good now,” Deliah continued, smiling sheepishly, somewhat answering your inward question.

“Really?” you quirked a brow. “Where is he?”

“I saw him go that way, soon after he got here,” your friend gestured to the other area you’d just returned from. “But I haven’t seen him since.”

Just then, Deliah’s boyfriend came up behind her and poked her in her sides, making her squeal.

“Shane, you dork!” she exclaimed, playfully slapping him.

“Hey, I thought you said you wanted to do shots,” Shane smirked.

“Oh, I do! Y/N, go get Marcie and Ian so we can do them together!”

Turning your gaze around the bar area, you didn’t see your friends, so you decided to make your way to the other side. The cute frat boy was still sitting in the same spot, although he seemed to be interested in something on his phone. You found Marcie and Ian in the far corner, and you waved them over.

“We’re about to do shots,” you announced.

“Oh God, I don’t know if I wanna get shitfaced tonight,” argued Marcie.

“I’ll do one,” said Ian.

Marcie rolled her eyes, then grabbed your arm. “Okay, fine, let’s do one as a group. But I can’t promise anything else.”

You smiled at her, looping her arm through hers. Before you turned, you caught the frat boy staring at you again.

“Alright, we’re all here,” you cheered when you met back up with Deliah and Shane who immediately handed you a shot glass filled with golden liquid.

“Ugh, we’re doing Cuervo, seriously?” whined Marcie.

“Would you rather the harder stuff?” you quipped. “I thought you were a lightweight.”

Giving you a face, Marcie accepted her shot glass and on the count of three, you all swallowed your tequila. You were the only one who didn’t grab a lime wedge, however, because just as you lowered your glass, your eyes were glued to the tall man who’d just walked in.

“Motherfucker!”

Deliah glared at you in question as Marcie muttered, “Oh shit!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Ian.

“Her ex.”

You immediately thought the tequila would make its way back up as you sat there squeezing your glass. Marcie was kind enough to take it from your hand before you broke it.

“Did you know?” you swung to face Deliah.

“Me? No! Why would I?”

“Because you said his brother’s here,” you gritted your teeth. “And Trevor obviously knows both of them.”

“I swear, I didn’t,” Deliah shook her head. “I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t even think to ask.”

You groaned as you watched David stop to chat with people, a blond on his arm. Damn, he still looked good, too.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” Deliah cried.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “I just…I gotta get outta here.”

“Do you want us to drive you home?” asked Marcie. She and Ian had been your ride.

“No,” you argued. “You shouldn’t have to leave for me.”

Marcie sat up straight. “You know what I think? I think you should stay, show him his presence doesn’t bother you. You shouldn’t have to leave either just because his ass showed up!”

“Yeah!” Deliah agreed.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. I do need some air though.”

Rising from your stool, you felt Marcie squeeze your hand before you made your way through the crowd. That one shot was already getting to you, making you light-headed, your temples pounding and your skin hot. Or maybe that had simply been David’s doing.

Slipping past the line at the bathroom, you found the glass doors that led to a deck, pushing them open, the warm air hitting your face as the music was immediately muffled. The area was small, only a couple of tables and outdoor sofas which were occupied, but that was just as well. Running to the railing, you gasped, prepared to hurl the contents of your stomach. Instead, you took several deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves.

Fuck him for coming here! You cursed to yourself. My first night out and he has to show up!

You heard his voice before you saw him. “Hi.”

Turning around, you were met with the cute guy with the backwards snapback. Flustered, you fiddled with the long necklace around your neck. “Oh. Hi.”

For the first time, you noticed he had tattoos peeking from underneath his shirt on his chest, as well as some on his arm where the sleeves were rolled up. He seemed to stare at you again, even longer than he had from his table inside, almost as though he was trying to speak to you telepathically. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“Do I know you? You look really familiar to me.”

“No, I don’t believe so,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

His lips spread into a charismatic grin, his dimples appearing again. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

You felt your stomach plummet to your feet. Of fucking course. Harry Styles. David’s brother. You should have known.

God damn it.

Standing before him now, you could see the resemblance - the sharp jawline, the straight nose, the way his eyebrows perfectly framed his eyes. Only David had blue eyes, and Harry’s appeared to be green. And David didn’t have those dimples, nor any tattoos.

Obviously Harry didn’t know who you were. Deciding not to let your shock or disdain be known, you shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“You as well. I um…saw you earlier…inside. You seemed to be…looking for someone.” As Harry said the words, he stepped to your right, leaning his elbow nonchalantly against the railing, his gaze never leaving your face.

“No, I wasn’t,” you conveyed.

“That’s too bad. I was kinda hoping it was me.”

Feeling the color rise to your cheeks, you quickly looked away and chuckled. So he was a flirt. Alright.

“I see,” you smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you, Harry. I was just checking out the rest of the bar.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Find anything you like?”

You rolled your eyes at his second attempt at a flirty joke. “Is this your usual method?”

“Method?” He raised a brow.

“For pursuing women. You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

Harry shrugged, “I thought confidence was key.”

Letting out a louder chuckle, you shook your head. “Stop.”

“Only if you let me buy you a drink first,” he grinned.

You stared at him with pursed lips. He was still really cute, you had to admit. And so what if he was your ex’s brother. He had no idea who you were. And you were already enjoying the attention. With a sigh, you licked your lips and shrugged. “I suppose I can allow that.”

You caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes under the light glow of the outdoor string lights as his dimples deepened in his cheeks.

“Uh, you want it out here, or…”

“No, let’s go back inside,” you suggested.

Harry held the door open for you as you made your way back inside. The chill of the air conditioning brought goosebumps to your skin, but it felt nice, especially on your face which you were certain was still flushed. When you stopped and turned slightly to address Harry, he bumped into you.

“Oop, sorry,” he said in your ear, his hand resting on your hip. You noticed immediately how warm it felt, a spark igniting from within.

“‘S okay,” you smiled. “I was just gonna ask if you’d like to sit at the bar, or did you prefer a table?”

“I have no preference, love,” he replied. “You lead the way.”

After Harry’s hand slid up from your hip to your lower back, you headed for the bar, a bit relieved to find your friends gone. You found a lone empty stool near the corner which Harry insisted you take.

“What’ll you have?” you heard him ask, his breath in your ear.

“Tequila shot,” you answered.

“Really?” Harry raised a brow.

“Yeah, anything wrong with that?”

“No,” he smirked. “Just surprised is all.”

“Hm, well I feel like letting loose. Actually, better make it two.” Flipping your hair off your shoulders, you gazed around the bar. No sign of David yet. You hoped he was nowhere near.

Harry placed the drink order, surprising you this time by ordering two shots for himself as well. As soon as the bartender laid out the row of glasses, the couple who was next to you got up, freeing one of the stools for Harry. Sitting down, he smiled at you, taking one of the shot glasses and raising it. You grabbed one for yourself, not forgetting a lime wedge this time, and mirrored his grin.

“Cheers,” you said as you clinked your glass against his before downing the warm liquid.

Harry did the same, swallowing both shots in record time. Crossing your legs, you swiveled on your stool before licking your lips seductively. With a smirk, Harry eyed you.

“You gonna take that second one, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute. Clearly I don’t move as fast as you.”

“Seems to me you do,” he remarked as he watched you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.

You chuckled at his words. He had you pegged already. You had to admit it was a turn-on. Grabbing a second lime wedge, you took your second tequila shot and sucked on the green fruit, your eyes on Harry’s.

You liked how he watched you. He was more than just a flirt. His eyes told you what he wanted. It had merely been a few minutes and you already knew his intentions. And you were completely okay with it.

“How was it?” he asked, his gaze now on your mouth as you pulled out the lime wedge and licked your lips.

“Delicious,” you replied, dropping the fruit on a napkin. “Good things are worth taking time with.”

“Is that right?” he grinned.

“Mmm,” you nodded.

“You want another?”

“Oh Lord, no. At least not right now. A beer maybe? Whatever it was you were drinking earlier.”

Harry’s smile grew as he nodded. “You got it.”

As he placed another order with the bartender, you took a moment to examine just how attractive he was. While he resembled his brother, he really had his own way about him, a sense of beauty that David had lacked. You couldn’t believe you were even telling yourself that, but you couldn’t deny it. The man was really handsome. You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch the tan skin on his neck and jaw.

“So, Y/N,” he said, his attention turned back to you, “tell me about yourself.”

“Me?” you blinked. “Believe me, there is nothing you wanna know about me.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Let’s start with why are you here tonight…alone?”

“I’m not alone. I came with some friends.”

“Who are attached,” he added. “I saw them.”

“Oh.” So he had definitely been watching you, checking you out. Noticing you were alone.

“You’re way too gorgeous to be by yourself, Y/N.”

You felt a weakness in your knees even though you weren’t standing. “I could say the same about you,” you muttered, surprising yourself.

Harry’s dimples appeared again as the bartender set down your glasses of beer.

“Saved by the bell,” he commented, grabbing his drink.

You reached for yours as well, but before you could take a sip, your gaze flew up to a couple making their way to the bar. Shit.

“Um, let’s take these to a table,” you hastily said as David and his girlfriend got closer.

“Oh. You sure?”

“Yeah. Bar’s getting crowded, and I’m sure people are waiting to get up here. Plus, we can talk more at a table.”

Harry smiled at you. “Okay.”

Taking his glass, he quickly helped you off your stool and followed you to the other area where you had originally seen him. Sliding into a circular booth, you sighed, happy you had avoided running into your ex.

“This better?” Harry asked when he’d slid in next to you, very closely.

“Mmm, much,” you grinned.

“Not trying to avoid your friends are you?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I saw one of them walking up to the bar, then stop and turn around.”

“Oh! Really? I didn’t see them.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged. “I’m still interested in hearing more about you.”

“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”

“Well…no boyfriend obviously,” he said.

“No.”

“What about work or school?”

“I work…” you teased. “A very boring job. And…I finished school long ago.”

“I see,” he smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. “How long ago?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, repeating his words.

“No,” he chuckled. “It doesn’t. I just finished though.”

“Oh?” you shifted in your seat, glad he brought it up himself.

“Yeah. Just got back. I was studying in London.”

“Oooh! Is that where you’re from?” you pretended to be intrigued.

“Manchester, actually, or at least originally. My family moved here when I was a kid.”

“I see! That’s interesting!” Even though you technically knew all of this already, it sounded different coming from him. You watched him guzzle a little of his beer before asking the next question of which you were actually interested.

“So what were you studying?”

“Engineering. Got my masters.”

With wide eyes you sat up. “Damn, that’s impressive, Harry!”

“Thanks,” he snorted.

“What do you plan to do with that?”

“Dunno yet. I have a few prospects…both here and in London. I’m just not sure which road is best for me yet.”

“I see,” you nodded. Then with a grin, you playfully slapped his arm. “And here I thought you were just some frat boy.”

Harry chuckled. “Sorry, did I disappoint you?”

“Fuck, no!” you shook your head, sliding closer to him. “Not at all.”

Suddenly thirsty, you drank almost half of your beer in just a few gulps. Feeling Harry’s eyes on you, you looked up at him and licked your lips. He stared at you for a moment, and just before you were about to say something, he lifted his hand to slide a finger down your cheek. Goosebumps erupted on your flesh and you parted your lips to let out a gasp.

“You’re really pretty,” he said. Or at least you think he did. It was hard to tell over the loud music, and his tone was so soft.

“Thanks,” you mouthed.

Sitting up a little, Harry leaned forward and reached for your necklace. “This is pretty too.”

“Oh, thanks,” you half-giggled, looking down at the amulet. “It doesn’t really mean anything, I just like the color of the stone-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Harry lifted your chin, his gaze focused on your mouth. Then leaning even closer, he took a split second to look into your eyes for reassurance before pressing his lips to yours.

So soft. Clouds. Pillowy. Sweet. These were words that invaded your mind, as you could not possibly think of anything else. Nothing else but that kiss. His lips.

You felt his hand on your knee before your brain processed it. His fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing it up slightly just as your tongue felt an electric sensation when it was met with his. Your own hand reached for his chest, somehow of its own accord, for surely you had no control. The warmth it was met with was intense, and the zealous beating of his heart underneath matched your own.

The sudden way he separated the kiss, however, was unexpected.

“Oh!” you gasped, finding his face still inches from yours. Blinking, you tried to read him.

“Sorry,” he said, his mouth quivering into a smile. When his dimples appeared, you relaxed a bit. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think…I’m pretty drunk.”

His chuckle didn’t quite reassure you, nor did the wipe of his hand down his face. Sitting up straight, you pursed your lips and shrugged. “So am I.”

With a gentle grin, Harry said, “I’m not usually one to take advantage of girls when we’re drunk.”

You tilted your head and eyed him before letting out a loud guffaw. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to give me a line, Harry. If you’re not into me, just say so.”

“Fuck, that’s not it at all! I’m so into you!”

“Really.” Your sarcastic tone was apparent as you reached for your glass. Harry stopped you, taking your hand.

“Yeah. I was just worried you would think…”

“That you’re just looking to get laid?”

You weren’t sure what made you do it, perhaps it was the alcohol or your own desire to get fucked, but when you brought his fingers to your mouth and began to suck and nibble on them, Harry’s jaw dropped and he shut his eyes. You watched his throat as he swallowed hard, and when he opened his eyes again, his thumb between your teeth, you could read the passion in his eyes.

“You wanna get outta here?” he asked with a growl.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you grinned. Gulping the rest of your beer, you started to slide out of the booth. “Just let me freshen up in the ladies’ room.”

“Okay. I’m getting an Uber, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Perfect,” you beamed. Then giving him a quick kiss, you headed for the restroom.

You weren’t in the stall ten seconds when you heard your name.

“Y/N, are you in here?”

“Uh, yeah?” you called out.

Heels clicked closer to your stall and stopped. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” asked Marcie.

“Oh hey, I’m getting ready to leave, so I won’t need a ride home, okay?”

“Uh huh. And just who are you leaving with?”

“Okay, it’s a guy,” you said, flushing the toilet.

“Y/N!” Marcie yelled.

Opening the stall door, you were met with her fuming, scowling face.

“What?” you pretended to be oblivious.

“Deliah saw you with Harry Styles. Are you out of your mind? He’s your ex’s brother!”

“So?” you shrugged, walking to the sink

“So? This is a bad idea, Y/N!”

“Why?”

“Because! You’ll regret it!”

“I don’t know,” you argued, reaching for a paper towel. “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is, right now I’m drunk, and he’s so fucking cute, and he’s into me.”

“Does he even know who you are?” Marcie cried.

“No. And he doesn’t need to. Just let me have my fun, alright?” You tossed the paper towel in the garbage and reached your arms out to your friend. “Please.”

“I’m not hugging you, Y/N,” said Marcie. “This is one time I don’t agree with you. You’re only doing this because you saw David here tonight. I already helped you pick up the pieces after he broke your heart. I’m not doing it again.”

With a tight jaw, you headed for the door. “Fine.”

The Uber ride to Harry’s place was quick. He explained he lived in a furnished apartment for now since he’d just returned from the UK, so you were kind of expecting something that looked like a motel, but you were pleasantly surprised when he opened the door to a really nice place.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked when he tossed his keys on the table.

“Maybe just some water,” you replied.

“Of course, love,” he smiled. “Follow me.”

You stood in the doorway of the small kitchen as Harry retrieved bottles of water from the fridge, handing you one. Thanking him, you took it and quenched your thirst. At least the hydrating thirst. A different kind of thirst had started taking over as soon as he’d kissed you at the loft.

Setting your bottle on the counter, you stepped closer to him. He smiled when you ran your hand up his arm. Lifting your chin again with his finger, he gazed down at you with his amazing eyes. Eyes that spoke volumes.

This time as soon as your lips collided, you immediately felt the need to touch him. Pressing your hand against his chest like before, you were happy to feel the rapid speed of his heartbeat. When his tongue met yours, you moaned against his mouth, earning one from him as well. Your other hand joined the other where they hastily unbuttoned his shirt, spreading the fabric open to reveal more ink. You let your fingertips dance down his pecks and abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. His mouth left yours momentarily as Harry shoved out of his shirt, letting it drop on the floor. His hat fell off in the process, some of his brown curls falling forward and framing his features. Then he cupped your face, his lips open and swollen from the kisses.

“You’re driving me crazy, you sexy thing,” he growled.

“That’s good, because I’ve been going mad for you all night,” you remarked, a little proud of your quick wit.

A smirk threatened to quiver on his lips before they crashed into you again. Moaning against him again, you slipped your hands around his neck, letting his soft curls thread around your fingers. Though you tried not to let it remind you of David - he’d had curly hair too - you allowed yourself to be captivated by all that was Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry…

As you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips and hungry tongue, your fingers in his hair, you felt his hands leave your face and travel down your shoulders. His kisses on your mouth were soon replaced by kisses on your neck, which you leaned back to give him full access to.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” you heard him mumble against your skin. “Bet you taste good everywhere, hmm?”

“Would you like to find out?” you teased.

“Fuck, yeah baby,” he swallowed, raising his head to look at you. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He took your hand and guided you through the living room to the back room, a lovely bed in the center. Kicking off his shoes, Harry quickly lifted you onto the bed. As he hovered over you, you took in his beauty, his gorgeous physique and toned arms. The sexiness was enough to make you wet, and you knew as soon as he touched you, you would fucking lose it.

“This little fucking dress,” Harry tutted, shaking his head as he slid a strap down your shoulder. “As soon as I saw you, stood there like a lost little angel in her little black dress…I knew I needed to somehow be the one to take it off.”

“Really?” you chuckled nervously.

“Mmm,” he nodded. “I reckon I was right.”

Sitting back on his knees, Harry slipped his hands up your thighs and underneath your dress. You gasped when his fingers reached the edge of your panties, but he stopped and ran his hands down again to the edge of your dress. Then grabbing the hem, he lifted it up. You raised your hips to assist him, then sat up to pull it over your head.

“Fuck me, look at you,” he groaned, letting your flimsy dress drop from his fingers and onto the floor.

Laying back down, you watched him as he hovered over you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You suddenly felt a bit nervous, though you tried your best not to let it show. His head lowered to your chest, as he cupped your breast and gently sucked on your nipple. Your breaths quickened as the heat rose in your core. You could already feel it tightening as he moved to the other breast, his soft, warm tongue tasting your delicate skin. Raking your fingers through his hair, you secretly hoped he would move faster, just to let you feel a quick release. You reached down to grab hold of your necklace when he lifted his head.

“Oh, let’s remove this too, sweetheart,” he suggested. “Don’t want it to get in the way.”

Gently slipping the amulet around your neck, Harry laid your necklace on his nightstand.

“Where shall I taste you next?” he asked with a smirk. He chuckled low at your wide eyes before he slid his hand down to your panties.

“Maybe…here?”

Your chest heaving, you nodded. “Yes.”

“Mmm, I think so too,” Harry agreed. “But first…”

Sitting up again, he grabbed the sides of your black panties and pulled them down. You watched him as he seemed to ponder how or what to do next. Then guiding your legs open a bit more, he swiped his finger up your center. With a gasp and a moan combined, you trembled.

“Hmm, looks like my angel is wet already,” he commented.

“You have no idea,” you cried.

“Oh, and maybe a bit needy.”

You groaned, wanting Harry to get on with it, make a move. Your pussy was throbbing so badly, you thought surely he could tell. When he slid his thumb across your clit this time, you nearly came undone.

“Oh God!”

“Aw, baby. You need to be touched?” Harry cooed.

“So badly, Harry…” you breathed. “Please.”

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Harry laid down beside you and lifted your thigh to rest against his. Then licking his fingers, he pressed them against your clit, gently moving in a circular motion.

“You like this?” he asked as you began to breathe faster.

“Yes,” you replied as you looked at his face. It had been a while since anyone had touched you like that. It almost felt like high school, like you were doing something naughty with the risk of being caught.

Harry leaned forward and kissed you, his fingers still doing their magic. When he slipped his tongue in between your lips, you began to suck on it, earning a moan from his throat. You weren’t sure if it was his excitement that turned you on more, or the quickening of his fingers, but you suddenly felt yourself reaching the edge, the familiar tightening in your belly. Gasping against his mouth, you had to let go, his fingers continuing in the perfect rhythm as you rode out your climax.

“Wow, sweetheart, that was fast,” said Harry. “Been a long time, yeah?”

You shut your eyes as you blushed. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, then I’m gonna have to do that again. Make it count. Don’t you think?”

“Touch me again?” you asked, opening your eyes.

“No, make you come again. As many times as it takes.”

You stared at him as he slithered his body down the bed and situated himself between your legs.

“I still get a free taste, right?” he wiggled his brows.

You chuckled, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Yes.”

You felt his breath tickle your flesh just before he kissed each inner thigh. When his mouth met your cunt you puffed out a loud breath. His lips surrounded your clit first, then his tongue met the delicate bud, circling the way his fingers had. With a moan, you opened your legs wider, running your hands down your breasts. Harry looked up at you and noticed, ran his hands up your stomach and met your fingers.

You liked that, Harry’s eyes on you as you both circled your hands around your tits and nipples. It felt sexy and intimate. When you began to moan louder, however, Harry released your hands and lifted your hips. One finger danced around your opening first before entering. Grabbing hold of the bedding beneath you, you felt your legs shake. But when he inserted a second finger and his mouth returned to your clit, you thought you might come.

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you shouted.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Yes! Right there. Oh, God!”

Harry hummed against your cunt as his fingers fucked you, beckoning you inside your walls, touching exactly the right spot, urging you to come all over them.

You weren’t sure you’d ever come so hard in your life. Your fingers dug into his hair. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your toes curled into the bed as you cried out his name and a few expletives.

When he lifted his head and slid his fingers out, you half expected him to laugh. But instead, he crawled up your body and kissed you with fervor.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he said.

You stared at him, half wondering where the hell he’d come from. Obviously you knew, but figuratively speaking…he must have learned this shit in London because his brother had never made you come like that.

Before you could think anymore about David, Harry asked you a question you hadn’t expected to hear.

“Do you need a minute before we try again?”

“Try again?”

“Yeah,” he grinned his dimpled grin. “I know it’s a bit selfish of me, but I really wanna fuck you.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, which only made him grin wider. “That’s not selfish at all,” you said.

“No? Good.”

Fuck! He was so cute and charming and giving. Maybe you’d had a thing for the wrong brother all along! You played with his hair a bit as he stared at you. Then you shook your head.

“No…to answer your first question. I don’t need a minute.”

With another grin, Harry rose from the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. You watched him peel them off, followed by his underwear, his erection springing free. Then opening a drawer in the nightstand, he retrieved a condom. Crawling back onto the bed, he handed it to you.

“Would you?”

Smiling, you sat up, happy to oblige. Grabbing the condom packet, however, you paused.

“Just a second…”

Situating yourself in front of him, you grabbed hold of his shaft and stuck out your tongue. You heard him hiss when it grazed his cock, your mouth then enveloping it. You let the saliva in your mouth produce enough to lubricate his head, and when you popped off, you used your hand to glide the wetness. Then you did it a second time.

“Fuck, babe,” Harry groaned. “That’s so good, but…you don’t…have to…”

“Mmm, I want to,” you said, sliding your tongue across his shaft. “Just for a minute.”

Hollowing out your mouth, you sucked on him while your right hand moved up and down, and your left reached for his balls.

“Shit, Y/N,” he breathed, grasping your hair. “Honey, please. I want…”

“My pussy?” you looked up at him.

“Yeah.”

Letting go, you adjusted your position as Harry ran his hands down your shoulders. “Is that okay? I don’t-”

“Of course, Harry,” you beamed at him. “I just wanted to taste you too before we got started.”

His smile was incredible as he watched you put the condom on. Then he kissed you passionately before laying you back down on the bed. His eyes on you, licked his fingers and ran them up your pussy.

“Still wet,” he commented with a raised brow.

Then he aimed his cock at your entrance and thrust slowly. You could feel him stretching your walls, a sweet sting as he entered fully. With a low cry, you held onto him.

“Feel okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Tell me what you like, baby. I wanna do it all.”

“I’m pretty easy to please,” you replied. “Fuck me how you like.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so hot,” he chuckled before moving his hips faster.

You clinged to him as he fucked into you, already reaching the spot he’d reached with his fingers. You weren’t sure if you could come again so soon, but it felt incredible. As he moved faster, you heard the squelching sounds of your wet cunt and his balls hitting you. You began to moan, tiny little whimpers at first.

“Yeah…” moaned Harry. “God, I love the sounds you make. So fucking sexy.”

“It feels really good,” you cried.

“Yeah it does. Your pussy’s so warm and wet.”

You continued to whimper as Harry thrust harder, holding down your hands. Your legs wrapped around him as he looked into your eyes. When he began to moan, he slowed a bit, his thrusts sloppy.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, sitting back on his knees. “Ride me.”

Though your legs were weak, you did as he requested, holding onto his shoulders. As you slid down his cock, you could tell you were close.

“Yeah, just like that, angel. Ride my cock.”

You bounced on him a few times before calling out, “Oh, fuck!”

“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“You feel me deep inside?”

“Yes. Oh, God! Oh, it’s so fucking deep!”

“Yeah. Come for me, honey. I want you to come all over my cock.”

You cried out then, doing just as he asked. Every nerve inside your pussy contracted, and you came even harder than before.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, falling like a rag doll on his chest.

Harry chuckled, lifting you up. “Hang on, angel, we’re not done.”

“I…I can’t, Harry. I can’t come again.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…we’ll see.”

Laying back down on the bed, Harry still inside you, he began to move again. You whimpered again, not under duress, but simply fatigue. But you wanted Harry to come. For all he’d done for you, he deserved it.

He moved slowly at first, and the longer he continued, the more it started to feel good, until finally you started to moan louder.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Harry moaned with you. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

“It’s because you turn me on.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he thrust faster.

“Oh my God yeah, fuck me like that!” you cried.

“Yeah, you gonna come again?”

“Yes, baby!”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s groans were getting louder as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you. You cried out his name as he pounded you hard, calling you good girl. Then his own climax came, his body trembling over you as he moaned deeply in your ear.

“Fuck…” he exhaled with a chuckle. “That was so good. Wow.”

He kissed you hard after you both caught your breath.

“You’re so sexy, Y/N.”

“So are you.” You traced his mouth with your finger before giving him a smile.

“You wanna stay the night? I mean, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“I am…” you said, considering his offer.

“So…yeah?”

You nodded. Maybe it was a bad idea. But you were so tired, you didn’t think you could even get up.

Harry did help you up, though, so you could clean up in the bathroom. But as soon as you were underneath his covers and he wrapped his arm around you, you were off to dreamland.

The next morning, you woke up while Harry was still sleeping. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, you did your business and returned to a buzzing sound. Realizing it was probably a phone, you found Harry’s in his jeans he’d discarded the night before. Curious, you looked at it and noticed five missed calls. One from his brother, David. And four from someone named Melanie. Plus a text from the same number that simply said, Can we talk?

Fucking great.

Hi, if you enjoyed this, please let me know as I'm considering a part 2 :).

tagging: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

ETA: Thank you sooo much for all the love on this! Part 2 is now up, titled break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored. Hope you enjoy! xo

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. MAYBE ROMANCE IS A PLACE

Summary: Rafe is still angry at Sarah and you are his loving girlfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff.

A/n: This is my first fic in a long time lol, so It will probably be a bit rusty. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback!

Winter had arrived. As the air got crispier and the winter hibernation loomed upon the Outer Banks, the chaos and trivialness of the Outer Banks began to simmer away.

As Rafe's girlfriend, you were rather thankful that Rafe would be distracted from his ongoing conflict with his sister's friends and now-husband. You did not undervalue the few months you would have Rafe to yourself, him already planning a city break to New York over Christmas. Yet the bliss you had become accustomed to by November soon disappeared.

As a student at Elizabeth City State University, winter took a toll on every aspect of your life. Studying in the final year of your college degree meant your work was piling up more and more by the day.

Sitting in Rafe's estate home you had spent the last 4 hours hunched over the desk in his office while he was off on 'business'- as he described. You were far too occupied to even consider for a moment what he was up to, even this morning you had begun studying before he had even woken up. So when he stormed into the office, his face raw red as he clutched his phone in his hand before he flung it on the sofa to your left along with his jacket, you were startled, to say the least.

After a few moments of stunned silence, you placed your pen on the desk before looking up at your boyfriend. Despite being together for several months now and finding ways to navigate his often erratic moods, sometimes you still felt as if you were on eggshells on how to approach him in moments like this. Rafe appreciated your often brutal honesty but also your sensitivity to his moods- without words spoken on it you both knew his unstable behaviours and outbursts weren't purely learned behaviours.

"What happened, Rafe?" He was still pacing the room, the way he was when he entered the room when you asked him the question. Yet without stopping, he huffed out a reply. "Fucking Sarah and her fucking games. I swear to fuck-" He began his more than common rant about his sister and presumably her friends if you hadn't interrupted. Sarah had grown a soft spot in your heart, you saw a lot of you in her. A young girl who had gone against what everyone in her life wanted for her in the name of love, as you did with Rafe. So when he began to ramble on about her you already knew she was unlikely to be in the wrong, especially when it came to her brother.

"Okay, let's calm down. Sit down for a second and breathe, you're practically burning up." You stood up, walking over to him unfortunately realising that your work would have to be put off for at least half an hour when he was in such a mood. "I don't want to fucking sit down, I can't believe she has done this shit again." Walking away from you back over towards the door before pacing back towards you.

"And what exactly has she done?" You questioned your boyfriend, glancing towards your phone that was bound to soon be bombarded with texts from Sarah regarding this exact problem. Sighing you look back over to him to see him staring at you, rage burning in his eyes. You obviously knew this anger was for Sarah but you weren't in the mood to get into an argument with a temperamental Rafe.

"I was minding my business trying to get some shit done with the estate over in Charleston when I saw- her with her stupid pogue friends. It's like she's rubbing it in my face y/n, does she even fucking care that her friends got our dad killed? I mean they probably fucking did it." Your face scrunched up in confusion, Rafe was upset that Sarah was hanging around her friends? Not to point out the obvious but that was a pretty commonplace that Sarah would be in, maybe not years ago when she had first hung out with the pogues- but now definitely. "Not to be Sherlock here Rafe, but just to check. You are angry that Sarah is hanging around with the same people she has been hanging around for 2 years now?"

His face dropped as if you had asked if the sky was blue. "Yes." An uncomfortable silence settled over the office. You were apprehensive about how to approach him now, sometimes you could sympathise with the oldest Cameron child who had a lot of unresolved trauma thanks to his late father Ward but this wasn't one of those times. You and Rafe had had this conversation years ago when you were only friends, and since you started dating- numerous times after. "Rafe, seriously? You need to stop worrying about this honestly. It has been years now."

He huffed in response, his features hardening and stare glazing over. Were you actually serious? His father had died only a few months ago now and he had been given the burden of not only figuring out everything that would happen with the family estates scattered across the East Coast but also working through Ward's will, a large portion of it which had been left to Sarah who couldn't care less clearly. He couldn't fathom why his loving girlfriend couldn't see what he could- a scheming sister who abandoned her family in favour of pogues. Huffing out a breath, he avoided your gaze knowing if he looked at you you would see the anger rising once more in his face. "That's the problem, you don't get it at all. Why would you get how much of a slap in the face this fucking is? All you do all day is sit here doing fuck all, whilst I'm out there making a future for us and deal with all the shit that comes with it."

Mouth wide open, you stare at your boyfriend as if he'd slapped you in the face- even though it damn well felt like he had. "Are you serious? Doing fuck all Rafe I sit here every day working my ass off for a degree so I don't spend the rest of my life living off your money. Something you complained Rose did to your fath-"

"Don't bring him into this, y/n." He interrupted, completely overruling your thoughts on his words- like he often did when overwhelmed by his emotions. "Rafe, I'm not bringing him into anything. All I'm saying is that I'm sitting here fucking studying to get a job- so god forbid I don't drop at your call to talk shit about Sarah." The room lingered in silence. Both of you refusing to concede to the other- why would you? You were well in your right to call him out on his bullshit.

"Look I don't expect you to get it. It's more than you'd ever understand- too complex" He muttered, walking off towards the door, undoubtedly planning to call up Barry for drugs until his anger faded. "Too complex? Please, Rafe, you don't understand how much work I do. I think the petty fights you and your sister have, that could be figured out if you just fucking sat down and spoke about it, are too complex for me."

Stunned at your words, he paused in his stride towards the door. Petty fights? What was petty about his sister being a raging bitch? "Whatever, I don't have time for this y/n. You're being completely ignorant of my issues."

"No, I'm not. I'm telling you that talking down to me will get you nowhere. I've stood by your side for years, even when we were just friends. Defended you to everyone who called you crazy because I knew, and I still know, that deep down you are just conflicted. I love you, and I will defend you to anyone outside this house. But when it's you and I, I will tell you when you're overreacting and need to think twice about what you are going to do. And that's exactly what you need to do now Rafe. I know you're grieving still and yes, seeing Sarah with the Pogues after all that happened may hurt you. But she is grieving in her own way too. And if that is with John B and his friends then so be it. Don't burn the bridge you have any more than you already have, in the face of something that has been in your knowledge for years."

He knew you were right. You were the one person he trusted. Not Topper. Not Kelce. Especially not Rose. You had been with him through everything, and when he looked back you often gave him advice that didn't always swing in your favour- but always his. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to be in love with, so the fact you stood by his side for all those years was a testament to your honesty and faithfulness. "I'm sorry."

And although his words were short and concise, you knew below the surface level they meant a whole lot more. He struggled with showing any emotion that wasn't frustration. But his harmful words aimed at you doing 'fuck all', wasn't going to fly by under your radar.

"And what in particular are you sorry for?" You asked, leaning your back against his desk. If he wasn't in such a rage when he walked in he would have realised how tired you looked. Your hair was still undone from when you had woken up this morning, drowned in his sweatpants and hoodie he had given you years ago when you were drunk out of your mind at a High School party. Tired- but beautiful. Walking over to you, suddenly sheepish at his uncalled-for anger towards you, he slipped his hands around your waist, slightly pressing his fingers into the delicate dip in your back. "I know you do so much work for us baby, I'm sorry for undermining everything you have done for me. You're working so hard every day, and I'm so proud of you." He admitted, looking lovingly into your eyes. His eyes full of pure love for a girl he had chased all his life.

And although there was so much more to come for you both as you faced the future of your relationship but also the future of the island. You knew that right now, this was enough for you. Standing with the man you love as he moved his hand up and down your back, content.

"Down talk my degree again and you're on the couch for a week."

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader

note ✭ this is very much inspired by the mingyu pictured above. (also i don't mention it explicitly, but girly's family is lowkey rich)

synopsis ✭ when your dad hires a hot new farm hand, you can't keep your hands off of him.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ mdni)

word count ✭ 2.9k

warnings ✭ smut, mingyu and reader are horny af, outside sex (no one else sees them though), no prep, overall horny shenanigans i guess 🤷‍♀️, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex (they're not depicted as drunk, but they did have a couple drinks)

✭✭✭✭

Every time your father hired a new farmhand, they were always the same. While they never disappointed in the build department (they were always jacked, but that was kind of a requirement of the job), but they all looked identical. They wore the same brown scuffed boots. They had their hair in the same floppy cut with the same dirty blonde color. 

For a couple of summers through your teens, it had been fun. Your father would hire him after the final school bell rang for the summer. You’d introduce yourself to him when your father was nowhere in sight, and you’d spend the rest of the summer sneaking around with him and having your fun. When summer finally ended and school began, you’d bid him farewell and never speak to him again, and your father was none the wiser.

And it was fun! The first two times. Then every summer turned the same, and every single farm hand looked indistinguishable from the last with no discernible personality whatsoever. 

So, having just finished your second year of university, you were expecting more of the same. You’d have a gander, but you certainly weren’t expecting much from whoever your dad decided to hire this summer. 

“God, why couldn’t you have invited me to stay over at your house this summer? I’d take whatever hunk your dad decided to keep,” your best friend from school, Jennifer, whined over the phone as you pulled your car up the long driveway to your house.

“I did invite you, but you’re spending you’re leaving today for Spain, remember?”

“Yes, but y/n!” she whined again, “I need more muscly men in my life. This would be the perfect opportunity.”

“You’re gonna be in Spain for two months. I’m sure you’ll find at least one man muscular enough to fit your standard.”

“Yeah, whatever. You better have fun with this man without me.”

“Like I told you earlier, they’re so fucking boring. It’s not gonna happen.”

You put your car in park and began to gather up your purse and phone when you glanced up out the windshield to see probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life walking out your front door and toward your car. It was as if your severe doubts had summoned him.

Ever the chatterbox, Jennifer kept talking, “Well I’m just saying maybe you should keep an open mind. You never know what could happen. One magical night in the woods and you could be locked down for life. It’s just–”

“Jennie shut the fuck up.”

“Woah,” she seemed mildly offended, “sorry?”

“He’s hot Jennie. Like really hot. Not even a ten. Probably a twelve.”

“Ugh, you lucky bitch! I told you to keep an open mind,” you could hear her mother yelling at her in the background, “Oh shit. Girl, I have to go, but send pics! Please! I need to see the hunk you’re railing this summer.”

“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled while she hung up on you.

This man was really throwing you for a loop. Just based on appearance alone you could tell he was not the type of guy your dad usually hired. First and foremost, he was massive. Well over 6 feet tall and far more muscular than any guy you’d ever seen (and that was saying something), and the skin-tight black t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide it. His hair was dark and cropped, a far cry from the endless supply of shaggy blonde hairstyles you’d seen over the years. 

The cherry on top was when, after watching you stumble out of the car, he’d asked, “Where’s your luggage? I thought I’d help you carry it inside.”

“Oh,” you let out an awkward laugh, “It’s in the trunk. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he followed you around the back of your car and popped open the trunk, “I’m Mingyu by the way.” He stuck out a hand for you to shake it.

You grabbed the hand and he shook it with a firm squeeze. Holy fuck he has nice hands. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you Mingyu.”

There was no hiding the way you gawked at the way his muscles flexed when he carried your stuff inside.

✭✭✭✭

The idea of returning to your old ways was honestly exciting for you. Last night over Facetime Jennifer had gotten the whole rundown of your brief interaction with Mingyu. You fawned over his muscles, his cute lisp and the way he’d been such a gentleman to help you carry your luggage after what you assumed was a long day of work. 

She’d found his Instagram of course and found out that he was indeed just as attractive as you’d described (and he had cute friends too). 

This morning you felt more than ready to kick off what you predicted to be a great summer. And you weren’t starting slow either. You knew the routine of your father’s farmhands enough to know that Mingyu would start the day mowing the lawn around your house. He’d usually start later on Saturdays (today), too. Meaning that if you got out there by 10 am, he’d probably still be working his way around the lawn. Hopeful by the pool.

Which, by complete coincidence, is where you were. Laid out in your favorite bikini by the water. The dark sunglasses covering your eyes meant that your eyes were completely hidden, but it was obvious where you were looking. 

Not far from the pool, you could see Mingyu pushing the lawn mower through the grass of your backyard. The tight black t-shirt from yesterday was no more. Instead, he wore a white tank top that left his arms completely exposed. He glanced over at you a couple of times, but he never let his gaze linger long enough for you.

You watched him from your laid-out position in your pool chair for a good fifteen minutes before he disappeared into the shed, presumably to put the lawnmower away. While he was inside, you took a moment to stand and dip your toes in the water thoroughly enjoying the coolness of the water. It was nice, you had to admit, but you’d have to save that for later because, while you were distracted by the water, Mingyu had made his way to the fence that separated your pool from the rest of the yard. 

It was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed him standing there, leaning against the fence smiling at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you normally spend your mornings checking out your dad’s employees?” God his voice.

You stepped out of the pool, “Only when I think they’re worth my time.” You slid your sunglasses off your face and onto the top of your head as you approached the fence where Mingyu was standing.

“Charming. I’m assuming he hasn’t the slightest idea what you get up to, then?”

You laughed, “Of course not. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“So…” you brushed his forearm with the tips of your fingers, “What time do you get done?” You knew the answer of course, but it felt polite to ask.

“Seven thirty. Why? Hoping to get me alone?” He smirked

“I wouldn’t mind it.” You bit your lip as you no-so-subtly checked him out for the millionth time, “Meet me behind the shed at seven forty-five, ok? Don’t be late. I’ll bring booze.”

✭✭✭✭

Part of you wondered if he’d be there when you snuck out of your house at eight-fifteen. Yes, you were late, but that was part of the game. Your parents always went to bed early, and you were an adult. So getting out of the house unnoticed was no issue at all. If your dad noticed the six-pack missing from the garage fridge, you could just tell him you drank it or you could feign complete innocence. 

The weather was still warm despite it being completely dark outside, so your athletic shorts and oversized tee did just fine. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt but ultimately decided against it because you didn’t want him to think you’d give it up that easily. Even though you were already struggling greatly to contain your excitement.

He could hear the clinking of the glass beer bottles as you made your way to the shed through the freshly cut yard. As much as Mingyu would love to deny it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since this morning. Something about the way you were laid out in the sun this morning had left a permanent imprint on his mind. The secrecy of the situation was also incredibly appealing. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, messing around with his boss’s incredibly hot daughter.

Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were taking your sweet time on purpose. You’d made him wait half an hour just to see if he’d wait around for you that long. You wanted to see how bad he wanted it, and clearly, he wanted it pretty bad because you found him sitting on the bench behind the shed staring up at the stars.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

He laughed, “Sure you are.” He held out a hand.

You passed him a bottle as you sat down next to him.

“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, but it seems you just enjoy the idea of making people wait for you.”

“Maybe,” you turned so your knees just barely brushed his thigh, “But you waited for me didn’t you?”

“Hey, maybe I just wanted free beer.” He gestured to the bottle in his hand.

“I know for a fact my dad pays you enough for you to afford your own beer.”

He laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, giving you a full view of his neck. You couldn’t help but imagine kissing his neck, leaving plenty of marks in your wake. “He sure does. It’s one of the many benefits.”

“What else do you like about the job?” You were genuinely curious about what was so appealing about doing nothing but manual labor for an entire summer. Even if the paycheck was really good.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Gets me off my ass. Gives me something to do with my hands.”

“Oh? You good with your hands?”

“You just don’t let up do you?” He really did enjoy how insistent you were despite your attempts to make him pine after you by making him wait for you so long. 

“Not unless I’m asked to.”

You ended up talking with Mingyu for two hours. The two of you drank and talked about your lives, school, home, past flings, and relationships. By the time you two of you had finished off the six-pack you’d brought out, you felt as if you’d been out there forever. 

At some point, you’d put your legs over his lap. He caressed one of your calves with one hand while you played with the fingers of his other hand.

As much as you’d enjoyed this little conversation, the more you drank, the hotter he got, and you were hardly holding it together anymore. With every move of his hand on your calf, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

You took the hand that was already in yours and placed it on your cheek, “Mingyu…” you whined looking up at him.

“What, baby?” his thumb stroked your cheek.

You straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs and moving down his neck and to his chest, “can we stop talking for a little bit?”

“Oh?” he questioned, lightly placing his hand on your lower back under your shirt, “What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked leaning further into him so that your chests were touching.

“You can do whatever you want, baby.”

That was all the confirmation you needed to lean completely into him and kiss him. The kiss was long and more passionate than any kiss you’d experienced from your past summer flings. His hands were on your ass, pulling you to hover over his crotch where you could obviously tell he was hard. And that would have made you smug if you hadn’t been sitting in your own arousal for at least an hour. 

You kissed down his neck just like you had previously imagined. He let out a deep moan with every mark and bite you made. You had failed to realize that one of his hands had left your ass until you felt a hand brush over your completely clothed pussy.

“Baby, as much as I love these cute little shorts, can I take them off of you?”

Nodding furiously, you leaned back, pulled yourself off of his lap and pulled off your shorts and shirt, setting them on the bench beside him. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, something Mingyu had noticed almost immediately when you’d sat down beside him. Before you made your way back to his lap, you reached for the hem of that stupid, useless white tank top that covered virtually nothing. You pulled it over his head with ease. 

“Wow–” you whispered.

He laughed and pulled you back into his lap, “As flattered as I am,” he ran a hand up your side, “I could say the same thing about you.”  

Before you could even think about how to respond Mingyu’s face was in your chest, feverishly placing kisses on your tits. He grabbed one with his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers.

You gripped onto his hair and moaned softly. Your hips rolled over his clothed dick multiple times before he finally shucked off his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight. 

“Can I please fuck you now?” he asked.

“Please,” you begged completely forgoing the chance to tease him for his politeness.

You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and grabbed him. Running a thumb over the tip, you pulled his cock out and pumped it a couple of times. “God, baby. You better hurry up.”

He slid your panties to the side and ran a finger between your folds, “you sure you don’t want me to prep you?”

You shook your head. So much for making him wait. “I’ll be ok. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He nodded and reached to grab a condom from his pocket. Of course, he’d come prepared. When he failed to open it fast enough, you snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open with your own teeth. You rolled it onto him after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time. 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slid himself into you with relative ease. You threw your head back when he bottomed out. You covered your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself at least a little quiet. 

“F-fuck, Mingyu!”

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunted out, “I’m gonna need you to move, baby. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded and gripped onto his shoulder. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he buried his face back in your chest, kissing and biting at your tits, collarbone, and neck. He left plenty of marks on your chest that were identical to the ones you’d left on his neck, maybe even darker. You had brought your own hand to your clit. Desperately trying to find your release. 

“Oh god Gyu, I’m so close,” you grabbed onto his hair.

He hissed from the stinging in his scalp, “Me too, angel, me too.” His face was in your neck when you’d finally reached your climax, and he followed immediately after.

You both sat there, chests heaving, for a couple of minutes, saying nothing.

“Wow,” was all he could say as he pulled you off his lap and helped you put your clothes back on, tossing the condom into the trash bin beside the bench. You made a mental note to take the trash out before your dad came out here tomorrow.

You laughed breathily, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hands found their way to his chest instinctively. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”

“Oh, was that not enough for you?”

“God, no, that was perfect. But I wanna take care of you for real next time.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have a truck,” he nodded toward the red pickup truck in your driveway, “I can drive it down to the creek. The bed of the truck is actually pretty comfy when you put blankets and pillows down.”

Laughing, you said, “You want to fuck me in the woods.” He shook his head, “I wanna eat you out in the woods.”

God, this was gonna be a fun summer.

✭✭✭✭

“Girl, what!? It’s only been a day?” Jennifer’s voice rang through the phone. “Was it good?’

“For outside bench sex? Yeah, it was great. We’re seeing each other tomorrow night.”

She groaned, “Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jealous.”

“What? No Spanish hunks?”

She shook her head, “not yet. But I’m hopeful!” 

“Do you still want updates, or are you gonna explode from jealousy?”

“No! Please keep me updated. I’m living vicariously through you.”

You laughed, “God you’re insufferable.”

“I know!” She batted her eyelashes at you, “You will keep me updated though, right.”

“Of course, how could I not.”

✭✭✭✭

thank you for reading! i knocked this shit out in two days (and you can probably tell 👀), but i'm genuinely surprised with myself.

anyway hope you enjoyed. reblog and like if you did! love hearing your thoughts

mwah~

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU

Paige Bueckers x reader (no use of y/n)

reader is a bartender at ted’s! and had a falling out with paige after fucking on and off for months. now paige is back at ted’s, needing her again.

part 2

Warnings: SMUT! also toxic!paige and language etc. you know the drill

A/N: wrote this because i'm stubborn and competitive and that one anon (who since apologised ily lol) thought english wasn't my first language lmao. also, this COULD become a multiple part series if people want but idk, idek if i'll ever write anything else lol. but we'll see! please let me know, would love to hear you guys' thoughts :) ily. ALSO the title comes from the song Too Lost In You by Sugababes (which will be the inspo for the series if this actually becomes one). SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG

-

“Yo I’m about to get fucked up tonight” A strong voice comes through from the bar entrance.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Before I even lift my gaze I’m brought back to the memories of her talking into my ear mid shift, hands on my waist, soft whispers in my ear telling me how good I looked. Or the flashing images of her in my bed on top of me, sweat dripping down her back, talking me through it inbetween groans. The images I replayed over and over in my head, a lot more than I’d like to admit - more than was okay for someone who had called the whole thing off between us anyway. 

In a panic I quickly bent down to hide behind the bar, pretending that scrubbing the sticky liquor stains off the floor was of the utmost importance. All just to get away from having to serve her.

“Hey, can you get this one, I’m dying for a break” Natalie, my co-worker, says - clueless to the hiding or the cause of it. For a moment I consider faking a heart attack, throwing a glass at her, or simply screaming “no”. But her round eyes (and the fact I needed to keep this job to pay the bills) softened me. With a deep breath I nod and stand up behind the bar, as Natalie walks off. Leaving me face to face with her.

She’s standing in front of me - Paige. It had been weeks since I had seen her last, doing everything in my power to avoid her. My eyes can’t help it though when they travel from her long fingers to her veiny hands to her broad shoulders that I swear had filled out even more in the weeks I hadn’t seen her. My gaze roams over her neck and my knees almost buckle at the memory of burying my head there, leaving open mouthed kisses on her pale skin. The way it bruised and reddened. The navy blue Uconn trackies made her skin even brighter, and I swear she glowed a little. Finally, my eyes land on her bright blue eyes that are already staring at me, heavy lidded, needy even. The way they always looked when she made her way to my dorm in the middle of the night, needing me.

Her eyes widen. “Oh… didn’t know you were working today” Paige says. It’s a lie. It’s clear in the strain of her voice, the way her fingers twitch. Last time we talked I told her I never wanted to see her again. But right now as she towered over me forcing me to tilt my head up to meet her gaze, I nearly forgot why.

“Whatchu want?” I ask, ignoring her statement already instinctively reaching for the grenadine. I knew her too well to pretend anything else. My stomach twisted uncomfortably thinking about how we had left things between us.

Paige pretends to think. “Uhh… a dirty shirley.” Her words are slightly slurred. She’d already been drinking. I move my eyes away from hers, unable to take the severity of her stare. The tension is broken, however, by a very drunk KK crashing into Paige and leaning over the bar. “also shots” KK adds and nudges Paige who smiles weakly, her eyes never leaving mine. With the way she looked I might’ve thought she had missed me - but I knew better. Paige Bueckers did not yearn for any girl. Certainly not me.

I smile widely at KK. “You wanna be more specific?” I ask, making the shirley with a rehearsed ease. I had made quite a few since Paige had taken a liking to me earlier in the year, coming over to Ted’s almost every night, sitting in the corner with her teammates watching me, tipping me way too much with that smug grin of hers. It would’ve pissed me off if she wasn’t so insanely, out of this world hot.

“Anything strong” KK snorts and I let out a chuckle, reaching for the vodka. “You got it.”

I set the drinks on the counter but Paige is quick to grab hers, her fingertips pressing into mine for just a moment. I nearly whimper at the contact, seeing how Paige’s jaw flexes and cheeks blush. She felt it as much as I did, the tension from the last time we slept together.

“Thanks…” Paige murmurs uncharacteristically quiet. KK rolling her eyes and scoffing, grabs the shots for her and the team. “Bro” KK shakes her head at the interaction, leaving the blonde alone with me to pay. I try to ignore the burn between my legs, watching her long fingers shuffling through cash in her wallet. It would take a gun for me to admit I had been thinking about those fingers during lonely nights and fuck, even nights spent with other people. No matter what no one ever measured up to how those fingers knew exactly what to do, which buttons to push.

“Keep the rest, ma” Paige says, snapping me out of my daydream. My mind is too hazy to take in the nickname. I can’t get a single word out before she’s already turning away, dirty shirley in hand and a stupid grin on her face. She had got to me and she was enjoying every moment.

–

Paige dangled over the bar, her eyes wide and searching, finally setting on me walking out from the back. She’s pushing her blonde hair off her face with a sloppy, uncoordinated movement, clearly feeling the alcohol. I stop her before she can speak though.

“If you want another one you gotta ask Natalie, I’m off my shift,” I tell Paige, refusing to give her my attention the way I knew she wanted.

“I know, you’re off this time every week,” Paige chuckles and leans forward with her elbows on the bar. She was in a Uconn tee now, her biceps flexing. It takes all my willpower not to stare. “We should talk.”

“We really shouldn’t,” I say sternly, taking off the name tag I had been wearing. “Pretty sure I said I never wanted to talk to you again.”

“Sure and you also called me a bitch but never stopped us from fucking before either,” Paige says, a slight annoyance in her voice, preferring to have her way. She’s licking on her grenadine stained lips, chasing my gaze. I finally meet hers, ignoring the aching I felt looking at her eyes on me. I knew how this ended up unless I left. Now.

“I have class tomorrow,” i sigh, walking around the bar towards the exit and throwing on my jacket. Before I know it Paige’s hand grips my arm holding me still. I can smell her around me. Grenadine and alcohol sure, but also the scent of her. The scent I looked for everywhere. Her eyes were pleading, like I was water and she was on fire. I almost forgot why I hated her, just for a second. 

“Lemme drive you ma,” Paige pleads. 

“You can’t drive, you're drunk” I scoff, brushing her hand off of me. A feeble attempt as Paige’s free arm quickly snakes around my waist and pulls me in, her scent so strong now it’s making me dizzy.

“But I need to talk to you, been driving me crazy,” She murmurs with a slight whine in her voice. For a moment I waver, her hand firmly on the small of my back, all her height towering over me. It made my head spin.

Paige takes it as a sign and leans closer, pulling me in tighter but I place my hand on her chest holding her back, suddenly aware of how empty the bar was and how the most famous person on campus probably shouldn’t be doing this in public. I notice the way her chest is heaving, mine doing the same. The fabric of the shirt underneath my fingertips felt all sorts of wrong, I needed it off of her immediately. No, I had to be stronger than this. 

But I wasn’t.

“Do you need a ride back to campus?” I ask her and swallow. The way her tongue slides over her lower lip as she watches me forces a deep blush to set on my face. 

“Yeah, bad,” Paige murmurs and I push her hands off me, wordlessly heading to the door with Paige following close behind. She hurries past me to open the car door for me. I would think it was sweet if I didn’t know that it was just one of her plays. One of the ways she made girls like me think she actually cared. She didn’t. She just wanted to fuck.

The air is tense as I start the car, praying Paige doesn’t notice the slight tremble of my hand. I’m not sure if it’s anger or how weak her touch had made me feel. Either way I had to get rid of her fast. Paige slouches on the passenger seat, watching me with hooded eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. Her legs were spread wide apart, sweatpants pulled low enough for her the logo Nike Pros to peek out. For a second all I want to do is pull up somewhere desolate and climb on top of her - from the smirk on Paige’s face I can tell she’s having the exact same thoughts.

The quiet hum of the car motor soothes my nerves until her voice cuts through the air.

“Been missing you y’know-” Paige starts but I interrupt, knowing she had the tendency to talk herself right into my bed.

“Told you I never wanted to talk to you again, remember?” I say with a slight shake in my voice.

“Baby c’mon, you weren’t serious about that,” She groans, her voice filled with amusement.

“What, the screaming didn’t seem serious to you?” I sigh, my eyes strictly on the road. Paige let’s out a chuckle and leans forward on her seat.

“Ion remember non of that, just remember how bad I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you,” she chuckles and the car slides into the passing lane momentarily as i slap her only half seriously across the chest. I pull over on the road, parking the car. The amusement in her tone pissed me off bad. I had enough.

“Get out” I tell Paige sternly, rage and annoyance swirling inside me. She had no right to be making light of the situation. Not after what she did, how bad it had hurt me.

Paige lets out a laugh. “Man you’re crazy” she tells me turning to face me. I face her too, the anger turning my cheeks even brighter. 

“I’m fucking serious. Get out,” I repeat my voice rising a little but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Paige just chuckles and shakes her head. I wanted to strangle her, she drove me crazy.

“KK always telling me I pick the crazy ones, I’m thinking she’s right,” Paige groans, not taking any initiative to get out of my car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and groan. I lean over Paige manspreading on the passenger seat, reaching for her door as she grabs my wrist, my face so close to hers I could smell the alcohol on her breath. The air in the car shifts, my annoyance turning into something that made my legs feel weak, as she licks her lips, her eyes on me. “M sorry ok,” Paige says, her voice low and hoarse now. Her eyes plead again.

And I fold, again.

“I don’t wanna hear a word from you, mmkay?” I say clearing my throat and pulling back from her before I made some really, really bad choices.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige grins, satisfied by the effect she had on me.

I start the car and in silence we drive back to Storrs, the streets quiet on the dark tuesday night. Paige fiddles with the zipper of her hoodie, her nimble fingers needing something to do - always looking for something to toy with. 

I tried to shake the feeling of each cell in my body screaming for her, needing to feel her skin against mine. I knew we weren’t good for each other. She wasn’t good for me. Part of me wished she came to tell me she’s done fucking around. That I’m all she wants, better than all the countless other girls that spent nights in her bed. That I was different, special. Worth letting everyone else go for. Frankly, even if she told me all those things, each word I wanted to hear, I wouldn’t believe her. 

When you were with Paige, it never felt like you were one of many though. She knew how to make you feel like you were the only one. It was in the way her blue eyes roamed my face, in the whine of her voice - like she would die if she didn’t have me. She’d remember your favourite movie and your mother’s name and the way you liked your coffee. All just to go see some other bitch later and repeat the same routine with her. Even with the girls she fucked, she had to be the best. Not because they meant anything, but because that’s who she had to be - the best. A winner.

Paige stretches her arms behind her head, the grey Uconn tee hiking up just enough for the skin on her lower abdomen to peek out as I park the car. Jesus. I quickly look away.

There’s a moment of silence, Paige staring at me intently.

“Look, I-” she starts but I quickly climb out of the car, not wanting to hear it. She’s quick to follow me though, her long limbs catching up to me faster than I liked.

“Ma, c’mon-”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, doing my best to sound stern as I head towards my dorm in a hurry, Paige right next to me. The campus was empty, most students already in their dorms, spending the night in.

“Bro you gotta listen to me-”

“No I don’t, you got your ride home now fuck off!” I yelp, entering the building as Paige holds the door open for me, still persistent on following me. “You said you’d keep your mouth shut so… keep it shut Paige.”

“Well… I lied” She murmurs rubbing the back of her neck, still on my tail all the way to my door. For a moment she watches me struggle with the lock, my hands shaky from the mix of anger and how bad the need between my legs had grown just from being near her. Paige reaches over, unlocking the door for me, her hands brushing against mine. I close my eyes and sigh - I really had to get it together.

“Well yeah you do that huh,” I say bitterly entering my dorm. Paige leans against the doorframe, not letting me lock her out.

Paige chuckles and shakes her head. “Bro you’re being so dramatic, we both knew what this was when we got into it. It’s not like you didn’t fuck around too!” Paige raises her voice, slightly amused, slightly bitter.

The truth was, I hadn’t slept around. Since Paige first fucked me, she took over me, consumed me. I would never admit this to her but I couldn’t even think about anyone else. 

“God, you can be such a bitch I swear to-” I groan loudly, rolling my eyes but Paige interrupts me, stepping into my room.

“Me?! You’re the most psycho bitch I ever met-” 

“Psycho bitch?!” I’m screaming now, my body hot with rage. “It was you who told me you weren’t fucking anyone else with some other bitch’s bra under your bed! Not me!”

Paige groans and shuts the door behind her, throwing her head back in frustration. “It’s just something people say! You were in those purple panties too ma, I’m not responsible for the shit I say when you wear those,” Paige argues. I chuckle, turning to face her. She was staring at me, heavy lidded and jaw sharper than usual from grinding her teeth together. Paige was getting pissed off, wondering if any pussy was worth this much trouble.

“You’re a fucking sociopath P!” I yell at her as she takes a step towards me, her eyes darkening. The blue in her eyes nearly gone from the way her pupils were blown out.

Paige grins smugly at me, licking her lower lip, looking me up and down. “Yeah? What else?” she says smugly, her big hands coming to hold me by my waist. The moment my eyes meet hers I knew it was over for me. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my head spun.

“An asshole too,” I answer, my voice breathy and more quiet. My body was immediately responding to her touch, Paige’s fingertips sliding underneath the hem of my shirt sending goosebumps everywhere.

“Yeah?” Paige grins, with a smug tone. I nearly fall over.

“Yeah,” I repeat, my chest heaving. 

“That’s too bad ma…” Paige murmurs, her eyes roaming from my eyes to my lips, down my body. 

I furrow my brows, fighting to not let out a whimper as her fingertips rubbed up and down against my sides, carefully over each rib. Up and down.

“It’s too bad 'cause I’ve been dying to fuck you,” She says with a low voice, eyes returning to meet mine. “Shit baby, watching you tonight, the way your ass looks in those jeans? Fuckin' killing me,” she adds shaking her head. Paige’s hand drifts down from my waist to my hips, all the way to my ass. Gripping it hard as she groans.

I can’t fight the whimper that spills from my lips, the way my eyes flutter shut just for a moment. Paige grins, watching my reaction. She pulls me closer by my ass, my body pressing against hers as she towers over me. Paige leans down, nuzzling her nose against my ear. And I don’t stop her. I bite my lip, feeling the way my panties were growing damp already. Only Paige could have this kind of effect on me - one touch and a few words and that grin and I was hers. She knew it as well as I did and I hated her for it.

I was too weak to hate her right now though. Too far gone.

“But since you hate me so bad…” Paige whispers into my ear, her lips brushing against it as she leaves a few wet kisses right under it. “I should probably leave.”

In a haze I reach up to wrap my hands around her, my hand pressing against the back of her neck to keep her there. To make sure she didn’t go.

“No…” I nearly whine. Paige chuckles against my neck, kissing it slow and soft. Her hand kneads my ass again, like she had been dying to feel it.

“No? You want me to stay?” She says, teasing.

“Want you to stay,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side, my eyes shut now.

“Want me to get you right ma?” Paige asks hoarsely. My body feels like putty as she holds me against her, like she could do whatever and I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t feel in control. I never did with her.

“Y-yes,” I finally admit with a sigh.

Paige pulls away from my neck, her lips ghosting mine. Her breathing was heavy. She needed this just as bad as I did.

“Attagirl,” she murmurs and finally presses her lips against mine. I moan against her, Paige’s lips slide against mine hungrily - like all these weeks apart she had been underwater and I was air. She could finally breathe.

With a swift movement, Paige pulls my shirt off, leaving me in a bra and jeans as her lips return to mine with a groan. Paige’s tongue slides against my lower lip, begging for access. I open my mouth, my tongue meeting hers, my hands pulling on her t-shirt, feeling the muscles on her abdomen, earning a small whine from her.

“Fuck,” she whimpers and walks me back without breaking the kiss. The backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed, forcing me to fall over. Paige watches me hungrily, her mouth ajar just slightly as her eyes roamed my body. “So fucking sexy,” she groans, pulling her shirt off over her head before climbing on top of me in her sports bra.

Paige starts kissing my neck roughly, sucking and nibbling enough to leave bruises to remind me of her later. Her leg finds its way between my legs, quickly pressing against my core as her free hand roams my side, fingers sliding underneath my bra and kneading my breast.

“Fuck, P…” I whimper arching my back off the bed. The friction provided by her leg was the opposite of relieving, making me more aware of all the layers of fabric between our bodies. “Need these off,” I murmur breathlessly, my hands pulling the blue sweatpants down desperately as Paige’s open mouth moves from my neck to my jaw.

“Whatever you want baby,” she whispers, kicking off her pants. She was now on top of me in a sports bra and Nike pros, a silver chain dangling against my chest. Paige leans back a little, eyes roaming my body, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I was real. Her blonde hair was down and tousled from the way I had been gripping it. She grabs a hair tie from her wrist, tying it back messily, licking her lips.

“Baby, I need to taste you or I might die.”

With that Paige brings her lips back to my neck, making her way down with a trail of wet, sloppy kisses between my breasts, down my stomach, my hip bones, her hands unbuttoning my jeans, shaky with need.  

I watch as she gets on her knees on the floor between my legs, her blue eyes my face as she pulls down my jeans painfully slowly. I buck my hips, needing her mouth on me so bad I felt lightheaded. Paige’s hands pin my hips down with a grin, eyes moving to my panties and the visible spot that had grown wetter under her gaze.

“Fuuuckk ma,” she groans, finally bringing her lips to my core, kissing over my panties.

I whine and grip the sheets beside me, trying to buck my hips closer but Paige shakes her head, still holding my hips still firmly against the mattress. “Thought you hated me,” she murmurs against my core. I wanted to cry, needing her lips on my bare skin. The feel of her mouth through my panties wasn’t enough.

“I do,” I whine, squirming in frustration, throbbing with need. I wanted to hate her, I really did. But when she was between my legs, pinning me down, a chain on her neck and that smirk on her face, I simply couldn’t. 

Paige brings her hand to my hip, finally pulling my panties down to my ankles, her eyes never leaving my core. With a bite of her lip, she brings her finger to my cunt, already soaked, all for her. Her fingertip presses against my clit menacingly, enough to make me gasp.

“If you hate me so much then why are you this wet huh?” Paige teases with a gravelly voice, starting to circle my clit slowly, drawing out whimpers from my lips. My legs immediately trembled, and I watched her with heavy eyes and furrowed brows, nearly unable to think yet alone speak.

“You’ve been such a bitch all night shoulda known you just needed to be fucked,” she chuckles, pressing her fingers harder against my clit, making me let out a moan. It had been weeks since we last did this yet the way she touched me seemed practiced and effortless, like she had been doing it every single day of her life.

“Fuck you,” I moan arching my back as Paige bit on my inner thigh, the veins in her forearm turning visible from the strain of rubbing my clit. 

“Nah ma,” she breathes out, shaking her head. “I’mma fuck you. Just need to taste this pussy first,” Paige groans and leans over, both her hands gripping my inner thighs harshly, forcing them apart as she dives in face first, her lips quickly attaching to my clit.

“Shit. Paige, I-” I moan, unable to come up with any comprehensible thought, Paige’s tongue lapping me up like she really would die if she didn’t taste me. Paige’s eyes are fluttering shut and she’s moaning against my cunt, unable to get enough.

“Fucking missed this pussy so bad,” she murmurs against me, wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking. “Taste so fucking good, never gonna get enough of you,” she rambles on, making a quick mess of me. It doesn’t take long for the coil in my stomach to tighten, my hand gripping onto Paige’s blond hair, falling out of the bun now. 

“Paige-” I whine, throwing my head back, feeling her tongue swirling in my folds. The sheets underneath me were growing damp, wetness dripping out of me from how good she was eating me out.

Paige pulls away spreading my folds apart with her fingers. “Shit ma she loves me huh,” she groans at the sight of me dripping all over the bed. Her words make my eyes roll back. Without warning she pushes two fingers inside me, all the way, as deep as she could. 

“OH fuck P” I gasp loud, bringing my eyes to her face, glistening with the mess I had made on her. She groans, my cunt tight and wet around her fingers as she curls them against me, her bicep flexing as she does. I moan loudly, throwing my head back, my legs shaking bad. Paige’s thumb rubs against my clit harshly as she pumps her fingers into me, other hand holding my squirming body still.

“P… mmph, please,” I cry out, not even sure what I'm pleading for. 

“Shh,” Paige coos, her hand reaching up to cover my mouth and shut me up. “Listen ma,” she says and groans. The room is filled with the sound of my wet cunt, as her fingers slam into me faster, curling harder. My cheeks burn up, almost embarrassed at the state that she had me in.

Paige grins watching my face. “Don’t sound like you hate me, huh,” she murmurs, a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “No one else gets you this wet right? No one fucks you like this,” she groans, hand moving from my mouth to gripping my jaw, making me watch her finger me.

“Mmmh,” i whimper and grip the sheets harder, overwhelmed with the fullness her fingers were causing. I wanted to look away, unable to take the way her arm looked, muscles flexing, veins prominent, as she worked me. It was all overwhelming me as the pleasure built enough to make me shut my eyes.

“Answer me,” Paige commands, her voice stern and her hand moving faster. 

“Shit… No one.. No one fucks me like this,” I cry out, unaware of what was coming out of my mouth. Too fucked out to care.

Paige moans. “Shit, that’s right. No one baby, only me,” she murmurs, her mouth returning to my clit, tongue working against it as her fingers fill me up, overwhelming me and getting me to my peak.

“P- I’m close,” I cry out, my legs nearly shutting but Paige grips my thigh with her free hand, spreading me open for her.

“That’s it ma, s’ good for me,” Paige coos working harder, her fingers curling inside me, tongue flicking against my clit. “Come for me baby,” she praises, groaning against me.

“Oh-” I whine and my head lulls back as my core tightens around her, my legs trembling, Paige fucking an orgasm me to my orgasm. Who cared she slept around, who cared I was supposed to hate her. In this moment, it was just me and her. And no one made me feel like she did, no one took care of me like this.

“Perfect fucking pussy, all for me,” Paige groans against my cunt, working me as I released all over her, the pleasure washing over me in waves. My moans turn to whimpers as I slowly come down, her movements slowing too.

I let out a breath, feeling the aching emptiness inside me as Paige pulled her hand away. She watches my pulsing cunt, mesmerised and hungry. The thing about Paige, one was never enough for her. Her lips kissed around my clit before pulling away, licking her lips from my mess. 

“Missed how you taste baby,” she murmurs while I lay back, trying to catch my breath. Paige brought her fingers against my lips, sliding them into my mouth. I wrap them around her fingers, tongue swirling against her, tasting myself. Paige hisses, watching me sucking on her fingers. With a groan she climbs back up, kissing me hungrily. The taste of me, and her saliva all mixing together. 

Her lips move against mine, the kiss filled with something more tender than pure lust. My arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in as we move up towards the headboard of the bed. Paige breathes heavily through her nose, kissing me with all the need she had, her hand holding my face by my jaw. I move my hand from her shoulder, down her arm, squeezing her bicep, all the way to the band of her Nike Pros, tucking on them.

“Need to feel you P,” I admit in a moment of weakness, my heart fluttering with how good it felt to be underneath her again. I needed all of her.

Paige pulls back a little, breathing heavy and I swear her eyes are filled with tenderness for just a second as they meet mine. Her fingertips trace my jaw and lower lip before letting go and pulling down the fabric I was tugging on, lips parted from need. My eyes roam her sports bra covered chest, down the muscles of her abdomen finally to her core. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly going dry.

I reach up and flip us over, with some help from Paige who was much stronger. She grins, watching me on top of her, straddling her thigh as I lean down and kiss her hard. Paige is quick to place her hand on my ass, gripping it harshly and hissing at how good it felt to touch me. My hand trails down her abdomen, fingertips itching to feel her cunt but she grabs my wrist, shaking her head.

“Ride me ma,” she says, half commanding, half pleading. I open my eyes meeting her eyes and I realise, she is fully pleading. 

“Need to feel that pussy on mine.” Shit.

Too weak to fight or to make her beg, I maneuver myself between her legs, angling her body just right, Paige’s other leg up in the air in my grip. Paige watches me, leaning back against the bedframe, eyes half shut and mouth agape, looking so good I could’ve burst.

Finally, I lower myself against her, feeling the slick of her cunt press against mine. 

“Ohhh shiiit,” Paige groans, watching our cores grinding against each other. I whimper, pressing on her lower abdomen to find just the right angle. 

“Oh,” I whine, feeling her pressing against my clit just right, my body immediately trembling, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.

Paige’s head lulls back at the same time, as she lets out a guttural groan, gripping my ass and forcing me to start moving my hips.

I do so, slowly, drawing it out for her - just the way Paige loved and simultaneously hated. Her breathing was getting heavier as she watched me. “Just like that,” she whimpers, trying to keep herself together. It never lasted for long.

I moan, grinding my cunt into hers, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. Her hands snake around me, unclasping my bra with ease, letting my tits fall out as she groans. 

“Look so fucking good for me,” she murmurs, a slight whine in her voice as she leans forward, her mouth attaching itself to my nipple, tongue circling it as i ride her faster, mind spinning once more. “Such a bitch huh who knew you’d be so good for me,” Paige whines and I grip her shoulders, steadying myself, letting my nails dig into her skin as she hisses.

“You’re the bitch,” I whimper breathlessly, letting out a gasp when she bites my nipple. Paige’s hand are digging into the skin of my ass, forcing me to move faster, her hips bucking into me. She chuckles, breathing heavily, head falling back against the bed frame. “Shut the fuck up and ride me ma,” she hisses, gripping my jaw and forcing my gaze to lock on her face.

I hiss, furrowing my brows as i look down at her, moving my hips desperately, our cunts grinding together harshly, igniting that familiar burn inside me.

“Pisses me off, pretending you don't want me. Pretending you don’t want me to fuck you, it’s bullshit,” Paige groans, fighting back her own orgasm now. Her voice shook and the muscles in her abdomen were contracting as she looked up at me. “Look at you now riding my shit, being a slut for me,” she rambles on. “You’re my slut ma,” Paige moans bucking her hips into mine, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure.

My nails dig into her skin harder, my whole body trembling. I was close, and her words only made me ride harder, grind against her faster, the slickness of her cunt making me wetter. Paige’s hand squeezed my jaw, forcing my eyes open.

“Tell me.. Shit- tell me you’re my slut,” Paige whines. She’s desperate for it, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth. I can tell she's close

“Mmph, P-” I moan, my cunt throbbing.

“Aw shit- I- Tell me,”

“Fuck I am, I’m your slut P, please,” I mewl, my eyes growing wet as they shut.

“That’s right ma, fuck- ride me so good you’re gonna make me come,” Paige murmurs out inbetween moans, hands gripping my jaw and ass so tight I’m nearly bruising underneath her grip.

My whole body shook and I cried out, barely able to keep grinding my cunt into hers, her clit pressing against mine. But when I heard the moan that slipped from her lips, and felt her mouth attach to my neck, I knew I’d do anything to get her to fall apart beneath me.

“P- I’m-” I cry out but she interrupts me.

“Me too baby, shit- ride me so- aw fuck- fucking good,” Paige rambles on, barely able to form sentences as she moves underneath me, the friction growing unbearable between us as she lets out a guttural moan, her body coiling underneath me. 

“Fuck-” Paige finally moans.

That’s enough to get me there too, coming against her cunt, fingernails leaving marks on her shoulders as I kept grinding my hips, movements turning sloppy as i whimpered on top of her, riding down waves of pleasure.

My body trembles, eyes still closed when I feel Paige’s hands wrapping around my body and pulling me down. My naked body presses against her skin as she soothingly rubs my back, nuzzling her nose into my hair.

I sigh, listening to her trying to catch her breath. After a while, she breaks the silence.

“Meant it when I said I missed you,” she murmurs into my ear, still out of breath. I bury my head into the crook of her neck, brushing her hair gently. It was moments like these that got me confused. You didn’t do this just for someone you fucked. Except Paige did.

“Don’t like fightin' you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss on my temple. I feel my heart fluttering in a way I didn’t want it to. But I’m too tired to fight it. I press a kiss on her jaw, gently and pull my head back to meet her gaze. She looks completely fucked out, mascara smudged under tired eyes. Her hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face before she leans over and kisses my forehead, as tenderly as humanly possible. Maybe this was her trying to show me I was in fact different, that she was done with the other girls. She just wanted me. 

“Don’t like fighting you either,” I whisper, resting my chin on her chest. Paige’s eyes are filled with relief, as she smiles weakly. 

“I’mma get us some water, okay ma?” Paige hums and I nod, letting her crawl out of bed from underneath me. I watch the blonde pull her clothes back on and turn to me, smiling affectionately. She leans down and presses another kiss on my temple, smoothing over the blanket to make sure I was comfortable. “Just a sec,” she whispers before walking into the kitchen. Surely you don’t do that just for a girl you fuck. There’s no way you look at someone like that and proceed to sleep around with other people. My heart flutters as I let my mind wander, finding myself fantasising of getting to call Paige mine. All mine.

Just then I heard Paige’s phone buzzing on the bedside table. Without my better judgement, I reach over, seeing countless missed calls and messages from a girl, asking where she was and when she’d be over. My heart sinks, the reality quickly bringing me back down from my daydreams. Paige wasn’t here because I was special. No. She was here because I was whipped, and she knew it. And I had given her every single thing she wanted. 

-

taglist (ppl who commented on the teaser or urged me to write lol): @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @uwupaige @lovegalor333 @celestixldarling @mrsbueckerss @t0ygirl @thesecondgaycousin @jnkfaist @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy @xxloveralways14 @vbueckers @bueckersfive

ty everyone enjoy this idk if i will write again lmao

[innerfare]

I Love You - Part 2 

Summary: Who says I love you first? How do you say it?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Mihawk, Corazon, Marco

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Shanks: The two of you have known each other for years before the words ever leave his lips. You’ve been through so much, and you never felt the need to put a label on it. But one night, you’re both swinging in a hammock on a beach, you in his arms and him sipping a bottle of booze, and he says out of nowhere, “you know that I love you, right?” You think he must be drunk but he insists he’s not, telling you it struck him recently that he’d never told you before and he really should in case something happens. He wants you to know how he really feels and how much you mean to him. 

Beckman: He’s always visiting you on your home island, either finding excuses to plot a course straight to you or sneaking away for a few days. It’s only as he’s leaving one evening that it strikes him: he loves you. It takes him a very long time to decide to tell you. Given his lifestyle, a relationship isn’t exactly easy, and he would be putting you in danger should anyone learn your association to him. Plus, he enjoys his freedom. He works it over in his head for months, to the point Shanks even asks him about what’s bothering him, though Beckman doesn’t fess up. But he just can’t get you out of his head. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can’t even focus in a fight. One late night, he returns to his cabin to find Shanks waiting. His captain has puzzled out what has the first mate in such a state, and Shanks tells him to go take care of his business. Beckman agrees and turns up at your doorstep at three in the morning with some flowers he picked on the side of the road because he felt awkward showing up empty handed. You lead him into your kitchen and make him something to drink, thinking something horrible has happened, only for him to confess his love for you. He’s not shy about saying it after that, always making sure to tell you when he greets you and says goodbye, as well as several times in between. 

Crocodile: He despises the word love, would never even utter it except to mock people who use it. He thinks it’s weak, thinks men who profess love are sniveling and pathetic, thus the reason he despises himself for feeling it. The emotion creeps up on him slowly but surely, and he beats it back and bottles it up for as long as he can, staying up late at night with a bottle of whiskey because laying in bed makes him think of you and your mischievous smile. Only when he is locked up in Impel Down does he finally, begrudgingly admit to himself that he feels deep affection for you, which he painfully admits to you one night after he breaks out, bracing himself for you to reject him, laugh at him, or spurn him in any way. When you tell him you feel the same way, he decides that is that and sees no reason to ever repeat it, your mutual and abiding affection one of his most closely-guarded secrets. 

Mihawk: He doesn’t tell you when he feels it, however overwhelming the feeling may be, so you’ll definitely be the one to say it first. This man is the king of unspoken affection. He’d sooner die than draw his sword and cut through all the tension that seems to follow him. That being said, he does say it in other, more subtle ways, primarily referring to you as, “my love,” and leaving it at that. When you finally tell him you love him, he doesn’t even say it back, simply burying his face in your hair and saying, “I’m glad to hear it, my love.” He shocks you by saying it back a few months later, though you don’t say it back, instead pulling him in for a kiss. And it continues like that, only one of you ever saying it, the other responding with affection. 

Corazon: A victim of near insta-love, he knows better than to tell you how he’s feeling when he first meets you. He tells himself to wait a month, and then at the one month mark, it seems premature, so he pushes it to two. Then, he pushes it to three, and then to four, and then to five. He thinks he’s good at hiding it, and normally, he is good at hiding his emotions, but with you, it’s all out in the open. You catch on pretty quickly to how he feels, have even seen him start to form the words only for his face to fall and him to turn away. Eventually, one night, you ask him, “why haven’t you told me you love me yet?” He’s shocked to discover you know the truth, and when you laugh and tell him it was pretty obvious, he laughs, too, his heart soaring when you tell him you feel the same way. He’s overwhelmed by the feeling that he has a family, something he’s been desperately wanting since he was just a little kid. 

Marco: He says it first. He’s loved and lost so many people, formed the family he never had as a kid and lost so many members along the way. And he’s done a measure of living, enough to know that love should never be hidden. So when he realizes he’s in love with you, he swallows all of his fear like a seasoned professional and tells you exactly what’s on his mind the next time you two have a quiet moment alone. He’s soft and gentle in that moment, too, just as he is in all the moments you two share, just the two of you. He says it often, always either turning away or burying his face in your hair when you say it back, overwhelmed with giddiness he’s certain a man of his age and standing should not be feeling.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[thelightsandtheroses]

Sweater Weather | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When you pick up a hobby again as the seasons turn in Jackson, Joel wonders why you won’t make him a sweater. Word Count: 2k Warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, copious references to knitting and crafting, references to the ‘sweater curse’ , post season Jackson domesticity, no description of the reader beyond her hobby. Notes: This is just a cosy autumnal piece of fluff to ease back into the fandom a bit. I’ve been struggling with writing and my place in the fandom bit recently but I wanted to take part in @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese ‘s jolabrew with cheese autumn challenge and I’ve recently been crafting a bit and trying knitting and crochet so couldn’t resist this silly little idea,

You used to love autumn. You thought it would be your favourite season forever. You were intoxicated by the foliage in all its glorious shades of red and mustard yellow, even the browns seemed richer then. You remember jumping through leaves in your childhood, a mug of hot chocolate waiting when you got home.

That was Before though.

Before the colour red reminded you of blood rather than leave. It was before the dark meant risk, meant the chance of an infected hiding away and a rational fear of death.

After the outbreak, all of the moments you clung to, the memories you used to savour, it all felt so pointless in this new world where death was always so close, always a shadow around you.

It’s different here though.

Jackson is like something out of a postcard. It’s simultaneously stuck in another time and fully adapted to the outbreak and the need for security.

You sit on the rocking chair on the porch, hands occupied by knitting needles as you try and turn what was once a too small jumper into something useable for you, or Joel, or Ellie. You’re thinking a scarf maybe for Ellie, as the weather turns more, perhaps even a matching hat if you can salvage enough, or remember how to make one.

“Whatcha makin’?” Joel asks, one arm casually leaning against the wooden jamb of the porch. Sometimes he seems to appear from nowhere and you take in his appearance, eyes slightly tired from patrol but still bright and there’s a small smile on his face as he takes in what you’re up to.

“Not sure yet. It was a sweater before I frogged it, could be good for a scarf or hat, maybe even socks if I can … I don’t know if I can make those.” Before Jackson, it had been a while since you picked up a pair of knitting needles or a crochet hook, or even a decent skein of wool but now you can finally indulge in the hobby again. Back in Boston, you can hardly imagine how many ration cards this would have gone for.

“You’ll figure it out, you always do.” Joel says with a smile.

You remember you used to make Tommy, Tess and Joel whatever you could from scraps of wool or ragged jumpers whenever possible. Your proudest accomplishment was a patchwork blanket over several months for winters in Boston. There was no heating in the apartments and it could get cold.

Now you’ve made a number of sweaters in varying levels of success, for the first the arms were so long in you had to start again, but you’ve also made a scarf and an acceptable number of hats - the latter of which you’ve proudly given to Ellie and Joel.

It feels domestic, normal even. Jackson is just different.

“How was patrol?” you ask.

“Tommy and I went up to the lookout, there were a few infected but-” Joel shrugs and runs a hand through his hair in a motion that still turns to your bones to jelly every single time. “It was fine.“

“Good.”

You take a moment to drink in Joel’s appearance. He looks better here. His clothes fit again, his eyes are brighter. There’s part of you that can’t believe either of you are here now, that he came back. That either of them did.

When you all left Boston, you noticed the way he made sure you and Ellie had supplies, had food when it was in short supply. The closer you’d got to Jackson, the more you’d noticed how he started using a tighter notch on his belt, so you tried to share more with him, make it subtle so he didn’t catch on to your intentions either.

He had taken Ellie on from Jackson alone, insisted he’d only be a couple of weeks, but he’d asked you to stay. There was an unspoken promise to wait for him to come back. Two weeks turned into a month and you’d begged Tommy to send a group to find him and Ellie, you’d begged the town meeting every week but they said no.

Tommy thought Joel was dead, you realised. Him and Maria were trying to subtly prepare you, to help you build a life in Jackson of your own. You knew they were alive though, you just knew it.

After a while, you weren’t so sure. You just weren’t sure what it would mean if they didn’t. Your life was in stasis, waiting for an answer that might never come.

The day Joel came back with Ellie, you’d hugged them both before joking that they stank and tried to wipe away your tears when neither was looking.

That was months ago and now the three of you are settled into Jackson, almost. There are secrets between them about the time they went to Salt Lake City, but they’re here. They’re safe. There’s time for that later.

Hey,” Joel says, “you want to get lunch at the hall?”

“Sure.” You place your wool and knitting inside the hallway of your, Joel and Ellie’s home and walk down the porch to meet him.

The two of you stroll down the street towards the main town hall and dining area. It’s cool, crisp and the sound of leaves crunching under your boots is a balm. Joel’s hand is tantalising close to yours, skimming your fingers as the two of you move in tandem.

“Weather’s turning, we’ll need warmer clothes. I think the stuff I made for Tommy and Maria’s baby went down well.” You pause. “Think I could get a sweater for Ellie and new socks for you outta that.”

“Huh?”

“The wool - you asked what I was making.”

“Oh, right.”

“Seth asked if i can make him a sweater. This wool is for you and Ellie though, if you come across anything on patrol, could you- ”

‘Sure.“

Joel pauses, he’s wearing the expression you’ve noticed whenever he wants to say something but he’s not sure. A slight frown, one brow lowered, concentration on his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure.”

“Joel, I know that face.”

“Seth asked if you can make him a sweater.”

“For trades, Joel, could be useful. I think he mentioned a certain bottle of wine that I’ve been eyeing up.”

“Okay.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve made me some lovely things, darlin’, and I truly appreciate the hat, but I -I know it sounds selfish, but I -”

“You want a sweater,” you say in realisation. You should have known, the last time you knitted a jumper you couldn’t help but notice how Joel had watched you doing it.

“I mean, not necessarily. It just feels like half the town has sweaters you’ve knitted ‘cept -”

“You.”

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s not. It’s just, I can’t make you a sweater, Joel.”

“You can’t make me a sweater?” Joel asks.

You nod solemnly. “Honestly, I would, but I really can’t.”

“Well, why not?“

“Sweater curse.”

“Sweater curse?”

“Sweater curse.”

The two of you reach the dining hall and you kiss Joel lightly on the cheek before you open the door. “We’re okay, right?”

“Course we are,” he says firmly, squeezing your hand and putting an arm around you. “Sweater curse?” you hear him mumble to himself.

You should elaborate, explain things but in all honesty this is a moment you’ve dreaded. It’s as close to defining your relationship as you and Joel have come in some time. Mostly, the two of you are together and you’re exclusive and that’s enough. There’s no need to put any firmer labels on things than that because the two of you just work.

By the time the two of you have selected your lunch and are sitting at the table.

Tommy’s wearing a sweater you’ve made. Joel scowls for a second.

“What the fuck is a sweater curse?”

Tommy bursts out laughing.

“Rally?” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not messing with that shit. Not in this world.”

“This world?”

“There are people essentially infected by a mushroom, Joel, I will play ball with any superstitions I need to.”

“That sounds sensible actually,” Tommy says thoughtfully. “So … the sweater curse, huh?”

“How do you know about the sweater curse?” Joel asks.

“Dated someone into crochet some time back.”

“You dated someone … Jesus, Tommy. So what is it?”

“Well you know if you give someone you’re dating a homemade sweater, the curse is you’ll break up.”

”Oh.”

Joel scrutinises you and you feel your face heating. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but I - I would rather not chance it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I know someone who did make their girlfriend a sweater and then she broke up with them. Do you remember Tamsin back in the QZ?“

“Tamsin was a smuggler and dating a woman in FEDRA, it was doomed before the sweater,” Tommy says.

“Nonetheless.”

“But okay, if you’re really worried, I get it,” Tommy says, earning a scowl from Joel.

“It’s just an urban legend, baby,” Joel says.

“That might be true, but with you? Nope, I don’t want to risk it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he repeats calmly, looking into your eyes and squeezing a knee as he slightly moves you so you’re both facing each other. The distractions of Tommy and the dining hall melt away. It’s like a balm over your body, the fact that Joel is here with you, that he still wants to be with you. The connection between the two of you runs deep and it’s certainly not always run smoothly. This town has been a true second chance for the two of you to achieve something close to normal, and maybe, you realise, Joel can see that.

“You go on patrol, Joel, it’s not as simple as that.”

Tommy looks away and Joel swallows. You watch how he tries to work through his answer, lips slightly pursed as he ponders the rich approach. There’s a freckle on his neck, one that whenever you see it instantly transports you to nights with him and moments between the sheets. You’ve catalogued every freckle, every mark, every scar now.

“I won’t push you on this,” he says quietly. “The gloves and hats are real nice.”

You smile softly, kissing him on the cheek before turning your attention back to your food. The water jug is empty so you decide to go and get a refill.

As you walk away, you can hear Tommy and Joel’s voices still.

“Now I think about it, there’s a way around the curse anyway,” Tommy says quietly, clearly in the hopes you won’t hear them. The years together have led to your hearing becoming attuned to them, to Joel’s voice in particular. You could pick him out of any crowd.

“Oh yeah?” There’s a lightness in Joel’s voice now, that slight teasing edge you love.

“Marry her. That’s the workaround. Honest.”

Joel chuckles. “For a sweater? Can’t marry her for a sweater. That ain’t right.”

“You said you were going to marry her anyway, Joel. Isn’t a sweater just a bonus?”

“Tommy!”

“I’m just sayin’, you said you had a plan.”

“I do and shut up, will you? She’ll hear.”

You freeze momentarily. Joel’s talked about marriage with you to Tommy? You take a deep breath before returning to the table.

“Is it true?” Joel asks in a whisper to you. “I know you heard Tommy and me.”

“Reckon I could ask the same question.”

Joel swallows. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Same.” You pause and smile mischievously, “Say it was true, I take it you have a colour preference for a sweater then, Joel?”

Tag List

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[suguann]

an. another ex-husband gojo fic because i'll die with this trope. this ends exactly how you'd expect (if you know me)

Satoru doesn’t take it well when you tell him you have a boyfriend after bumping into him in the grocery store parking lot. At least, you don’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, his expression inscrutable as ever behind his dark sunglasses—the sharp arch of his brow the only indication he’s heard you at all.

“Is that so?” he finally says, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. Has you grasping at straws to make something right that isn’t even wrong yet. Has any thought of this being an easy conversation shattered at your feet.

You clear your throat. “Yeah…he’s nice. You might even like him.” 

No, he wouldn’t—a little voice in the back of your head tells you. Knowing it's because all of the unreadable parts of you are no longer connected to him, but instead to a man you've barely spent two months dating, and that must infuriate him.

He doesn’t ask (not that you expect him to) when you find yourself prattling on about how you met Rin through a friend, how he’s an investment banker and takes you out to his cabin on the weekends, that he’s predictable—stable is what you really mean, but don't say—with an ordinary life who wants kids—

Satoru seems to chew on that last bit of information like he’s suddenly tasted something unpleasant, the line of his brow flat and unimpressed, the slant in his mouth mutinous. He’s uttered all but three words, and so far, this entire conversation leaves you with nothing short of a stomach ache.

“He really is a good person,” you add, just because you have nothing else to say and your penchant for filling awkward, empty spaces.

Then he smiles, and you relax a little. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

You smile, too, a soft, sure thing this time that makes his widen.

But if you'd been more level-headed and less flustered about bumping into your ex-husband after several months of silence—since he signed his name beside yours in front of your lawyer—you’d realize how dangerous that smile is.

You’re unsure if it’s too contingent to be considered a coincidence, but he starts showing up in odd places after that all-too-uncomfortable one-sided conversation in the parking lot.

First, it’s at your favorite coffee shop you usually stop at on your way to work. It’s strange because you remember him hating coffee, how he'd always preferred to load it with creamer and sweetener just to get rid of the bitter taste. But you don’t mention it when he offers—no, insists on paying for your coffee and blueberry streusel muffin.

When the total pops up on the register, he doesn’t even blink when he opens his wallet.

Of course, you can't let him pay. There must be something in writing somewhere that says ex-husbands shouldn't pay for their recently divorced ex-wife's coffee.

He shrugs, smiling, after you tell him it’s expensive—has that ever bothered me?—and slides a shiny black card across the counter to the barista.

“You can't show up out of nowhere and start buying me things,” you hiss afterward, slightly flustered by the whole ordeal. The city’s big, but you still worry about one of your friends or colleagues seeing you with Satoru—they may get the wrong idea. “We’re not together anymore.”

"Do I have to message you the next time I want to get you coffee?" he tucks his hands into his coat.

"No, we shouldn't even be getting coffee together."

“Am I not allowed to be nice now that you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I said,” you huff. “And you didn’t even buy yourself anything. How am I supposed to look at it?”

He shrugs, “I decided I didn’t want anything,” and you don't even think he notices that he holds your hand when you go to cross the street.

Habit. You'll write that one off as a habit, but he doesn't let go until you're in front of the tall, shiny doors of your office building.

The second time he shows up unannounced is while you're walking through the quaint park near your apartment, which you know is far from his sleek penthouse on 5th Avenue, the one with a perfect view of the city and the bay—a thirty-minute drive, at least.

“I bought a house out here,” he tells you when you ask. “It’s up on the hill.”

You know which one he’s talking about. You’ve driven past it a few times. It's a cozy brick stone with lots of windows, a white picket fence, and a large backyard, something you’ve always wanted since before you were married. According to a real estate website, his house is a little over a million. 

Interest must be written all over your face because he asks: “You want to see it?”

There are a number of reasons why you shouldn’t say yes, why you should politely decline and finish your last lap along the trail and run to the grocery store afterward to pick up something for dinner and call Rin to let him hear about your day—

“Okay,” you say, hands on your hips. “But make it quick.”

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling at the corners with something akin to affection. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to remind him, again, that you’re not together, so he’s not allowed to use pet names, but a large hand on the small of your back to usher you towards the shiny, sleek SUV across the street leaves you with a mouth full of cotton.

He watches you take in the hardwood floors and tall ceilings trimmed with crown molding. When you stop in the massive kitchen to run your fingers over the granite countertops, it almost feels bittersweet walking through the house of your dreams while your ex-husband eyes you questioningly as if he's looking for your approval.

“So? What do you think?”

The smile you give him is genuine. “It’s beautiful.”

Satoru matches your smile with a bigger one, almost blinding. “That’s good, that’s really good.”

You feel like you should ask why he bought a house this big in the first place, but there’s a pebble in your stomach if you think about family photos on the walls with him happy and smiling, his arm around a pretty wife who wears frilly aprons and kisses him on the cheek when he comes home. A future where you don’t exist, yet he’s letting you take a peak into it, anyway.

So you don’t say anything.

You meant to leave an hour ago, but he plied you with dinner— friends can have dinner together, can’t they? —which leads to two glasses of wine and then watching movies together on his very soft couch. If everything didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, you probably would have noticed the signs sooner, that he’s trying to—

(He presses you into the couch cushions, biting marks into your neck and chest until your breaths come out fast and high-pitched.

“We shouldn’t,” you manage to say, still tipsy and tongue heavy in your mouth from the wine you had. "Toru, I should really go."

He huffs a laugh against your cheek—you note how he still wears the same cologne you bought him all those years ago when everything was so new, and there wasn't a ring on your finger yet—pressing a messy kiss there that makes you squirm. “Doesn’t this remind you of old times, though?”

“B-but I have a boyfriend.”

In retaliation, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh around the fluttering pulse in your neck, just shy of too rough, though your fingers in his hair pull him into you like you can’t get enough.)

That maybe this means he—

(Satoru bunches the lace of your panties in his fist, shoving them up around your knees, trapping your legs together against your chest. A long, drawn-out groan rumbles in his chest at discovering the creamy mess between your thighs. “Always had such a pretty wet pussy, fuck. Do you get this wet for him, too?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs because he hears what you don’t say: No, you’ve never been this turned on when it’s with Rin. Satoru’s the only one to ever leave you wet and shaky just from a few words.)

It’s an insane thought, but it’s almost like Satoru—

(He holds his hand up to your mouth, telling you to lick before he wraps it around his cock, pressing the tip into the slick seam of your cunt. And you forgot how big he is, just on the side of too much, the bit of effort it takes for him to sink in a little, and then all at once, rending you right down the middle.

You whimper, fingers scrabbling clumsily for one of the throw pillows near your head, needing something to hold on to.

“There you go, pretty girl,” Gojo breathes, hips tight and close, grinding into you so that you can feel how deep he is. “I see she can still take it.”)

No, he wouldn’t—

(He fucks you hard enough to send you skittering up the couch, only to pull you back down again, grinding you on his cock to touch places inside you that he’s only ever managed to reach. You whine into where your face is pressed against the back cushions, biting down to muffle how loud you’re being.

He makes a displeased sound and forces you to look at him again with his fingers digging into your cheeks.

"What if I give you a little baby, huh? We'll be a family together. You, me, and our baby in this big house. Doesn't that sound nice? We'll fill the house with babies," he mutters, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, forcing your legs further against your chest.

The angle rubs just right inside you. You make an unintelligible noise at the back of your throat, unable to move or get better friction in this position.

“We did it your way last time, didn’t we, baby?” his little laugh is breathless, kind of mean. “I let you leave with all those silly thoughts in your head; thought you knew what you wanted, but now we’re going to do it my way from now on.”

His words should strike alarm bells, but when he fits his hand between your bodies to strum his thumb against your clit, your mind empties.

"You've always been mine." Words barely audible, he still sounds breathless; wrecked. "It's about time you get that through your head.")

Except you know he would. 

A month later, you’re packing away the fine china in your apartment, wondering how the few things you own will fill a house so large.

[kimstills]

thinking about this with hotch… he’ll always give you princess treatment and when he sees you’re too riled up about anything (whether you’re in the bau or have your own job) he’ll just take matters into his own hands

stress relief

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron helps you unwind after a stressful morning

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, established relationship, stress, oral (f receiving), face riding, rough sex, praise, breeding kink in form of dirty talk (mentions of birth control), overstimulation, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, spanking, use of nicknames, aaron being a good boyfriend.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this is the link anon meant to send! it somehow didn’t send w their request >:/

Aaron has always been able to read you like a book, even before you two had started dating.

He always said that it was because he was a profiler, but really it was just because he knew you. He could tell whenever you were upset, stressed or exhausted. No matter how hard you tried to hide it.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to him when he walks into your shared home office and immediately picks up on the stress you’re feeling.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, giving the wood of the door a soft knock.

You don’t answer, eyes focused on the screen of your laptop in front of you.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

Your head snaps up, and what Aaron subconsciously expects to be greeted with is quickly dethroned by a plain “Oh, hi.” He doesn’t blame you, though.

It doesn't take a profiler to know what you're feeling. Your brows are pinched tightly together, leg bouncing rapidly, shoulders hunched and—the most patent feature—your eyes a teary, bright red.

He quickly rounds your side of the desk, every tired bone in him replaced with the urgency to check up on you.

"Sweetheart," he sets a gentle, careful hand on your shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The tenderness in his voice and touch is enough to make your eyes water again. You throw your face into your hands before Aaron can see them actually spill and a sob shakes your body.

"Honey--"

"No." You state, your voice hoarse and muffled. You take a long sniff and wipe at your eyes before focusing on your laptop screen again. "I have to finish this."

Aaron glances down at your screen, brows furrowed in concern when he realizes what you're working on. Your screen is open to several browsers and files, your research paper for your final assignment open in the very middle.

He sighs internally. Of course. He remembers you telling him that your professor was a stickler for these assignments and a strict grader. He recalls the many times you've cried to him about the harsh words he'd tell you when he followed up with you in emails and all the times he'd find you passed out on this very desk, overworked from trying to finish everything.

"Sweetheart, didn't you say that this isn't due until a couple of months?" He tries to ask nonetheless, kneeling down next to your chair.

You sniffle, throwing up the hand that rests on the top of your head, exasperated, "Yes, but I need to make sure it's good enough."

“It will be.” Aaron says, wheeling the chair around so that you were facing him. He feels his heart pang at the sight of your tear-stained face, “Sweet girl, everything you turn in is exceptional. Don’t let one professor ruin how hardworking of a person you are.”

A single tear runs down your cheek and Aaron is quick to catch it with the pad of his thumb. His hand comes to caress your face when you don’t say anything else, though he knows you know he was a point.

Aaron pulls you to your feet gently and encouragingly, pressing you flush against his chest and rubbing his hands up and down your back. He can feel how tense you are, your stress practically radiating from your body.

An idea begins to form in his head at your tensity, your face buried in his neck as you practically melt into his touch.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, hand sweeping at your hair, “C’mon, sweet girl,” he whispers. “I know what will make you feel better.”

You sniffle, following him regardless your confusion.

He leads you out of the shared office and into your shared bedroom. He doesn’t bother turning on the big light of the room, carefully guiding you inside and turning on the lamp that rests on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

Aaron sheds his suit jacket, discarding it somewhere on the floor haphazardly along with his tie and taking a seat at the very edge of the front of the bed. His hands come to your hips, pulling you forward so that you were settled in between his legs.

You follow his motions, lips set in a soft pout as your hands come to rest on his shoulders, "Aaron, what are you--"

You're cut off by the muffled sound of his back falling against the mattress, his legs hanging off with you still standing between them.

"Sit on my face."

Aaron can see the way your face heats up, can feel it. He knew you were shy when it came to sitting on his face so he could eat you out, but he didn't care for it.

The only thing on his mind was helping you destress and making you feel good.

"W-What?" Despite your confusion, you still find yourself squeezing your thighs together, already feeling the slick begin to pool at your panties.

"You heard me, sweetheart," Aaron's voice is gentle yet somewhat demanding, encouraging but not wavering or relenting. "I want you to sit on my face."

"But... why?"

Aaron chuckles. You were too cute, uncertainty drawn on your puffy, tear-stained features. He sits up from his position, hands settling on your hips, "Because I want to make you feel good."

You stare, nibbling at your bottom lip while he caresses your sides, your already short pajama bottoms riding up each time his hands went up.

He gives your skin one final squeeze before laying back down, giving you that stare he always gave you when he wanted you to do something and do it now.

"Shorts and panties off. Then sit."

His tone immediately jumps you into action, hands pulling both your shorts and already soaked panties off shyly. You straddle his lap, whimpering as the cold air hits your pussy as you rise to his chest.

"Aaron..."

He cuts you off with a tender hush, "Sit, honey. I want to make you feel good until you forget all about that paper."

With both a huff and a pout, you bashfully crawl towards his face. Your breaths come out in stutters and gasps when your bare pussy rubs against his soft yet defined chest.

You stop at the very top of his torso, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt hesitantly.

“Aaron, are you—”

Aaron cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence, evoking a wrangled cry of surprise from you when he finishes dragging you down until you’re sat flush on his face.

You both groan in unison, your hands shooting out to grip the headboard in front of you as his tongue immediately shoots out to lick a long stripe up your folds.

"Aaron!"

He pays no mind to your cries and digs his fingers into the skin of your hips so that you couldn’t move away from him. You writhe against him but his tongue expertly laps at your sopping pussy, soaking his face in the process. He begins eating at you like a starved man, wasting no time. Like his only purpose was to make your mind go blank.

Which, technically, it was.

And your mind does just that, all earlier protests and diffidence long gone. Your head is thrown back in a growing haziness as the feeling of Aaron’s hot mouth on your cunt infiltrates your every sense.

He laps at your entrance, teasing and prodding before kissing and lapping your folds. His nose brushes at your clit occasionally with each dip of his head and you could feel your stomach clench each time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he hums, the vibrations sending chills up your spine and making your pussy flutter around his face. “So good for me, baby. So good.”

Your cries of utter pleasure fill the room and a cast of sweat slowly begins to build on your body and forehead, the heat from below extending everywhere. You lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, one of Aaron's old, practically raggedy, university shirts, and tug it over your head.

Aaron watches you toss it somewhere in the room, hungry gaze focusing on the lacy lounge bra that adorned your breasts. It's soon easily discarded alongside his shirt, your tits coming into a perfect view from above him.

Both of his hands leave your hips to caress your tits and you whine. The skin of his slightly rough palms envelop them in his hands, squeezing gently yet possessively all whilst maintaining his attack on your pussy.

“Aaron, mmh—fuck,” you wrap your hands around his wrists, gripping them tightly for support. You lean backwards, further enveloping his face in your dripping folds.

Aaron grunts and the vibrations only edges you further on; the touch of his hands on your tits, his thumb and pointer finger twisting and tugging at both of your sensitive nipples turning everything into a pleasure-filled haze.

“Gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my face?” Aaron asks, voice and raspy from below. It makes the coil in your belly tighten even more.

“Yeah, y-yes, yes,” you mumbles, eyes closed and legs shaking from where they cage his head on either side.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on you, your fucked out form clearly close to snapping as your hips began to grind back and forth against his soaked face.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum on my face.”

A certain bite on your clit is what sends you into a frenzy, the tightness in your lower belly snapping as your orgasm washes over you. You babble mindless, incoherent things, body shaking and grip tightening on Aaron’s arms.

Aaron doesn’t relent, though. His tongue laps at your release eagerly and purposefully whilst giving more encouraging squeezes to your breasts before sliding down to your ass and taking handfuls of the flesh just the same.

“Aaron, Aaron, baby—!”

You moan loudly when he doesn’t stop, your body stuttering as he continues to eat you out with such fervor that you wonder if he’s still doing this for you.

You’re proven wrong, though, when his encouraging words begin to work you up for another orgasm despite barely coming down from the first one.

“That’s it, angel. One more on my mouth,” he says, voice rough from the misuse. “This is all about you, take what you need.”

Aaron’s name echoes through the room in high-pitched whines and shaky breaths, his lips still sucking harshly on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It only takes a couple more gentle bites and sucks for your second high to wash over you again, eagerly and dumbly riding it out on his face with your eyes rolled back into your head. Each harsh grind makes Aaron groan into your arousal and he soaks in the way you make a mess out of his face.

Your breaths are shallow as you slow your hips to a stop, chest heaving. You move to settle yourself on Aaron's lap again, whining when the dull ache shoots through your sore thighs.

Aaron lets out a low grunt when your bare, still soaked cunt brushes against his painfully hard dick, the outline of his boner potent even through the slacks he was still wearing. It didn't help that he could still taste you with just a lick of his lips, his face slick.

He brings a hand to push your hair back from your sweaty forehead, cooing at you when you preen tiredly under his touch. "So good, sweetheart, did so good. You still with me?"

You nod, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Good. Means we're not done yet."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest before he's maneuvering you around so that you were off his lap and settled on to your knees. You whine when your front hits the mattress, your back arching instinctively as Aaron positions himself behind you.

Your pussy glistens even in the low lighting of the bedroom, your juices dripping down to your thighs and onto the bed. It makes Aaron undress himself all the faster, discarding his clothes in a pile before walking over to you and dragging you near the edge of the bed.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock pressing against your slick folds. You’re already nearing overstimulation yet you can’t help yourself when you push back against him.

“Aaron…” you mewl, turning your head to look at him.

Aaron lets out a low chuckle at the sight of you: eyes red and puffy and lips turned downwards into a pout, all topped off with a tear-stained face and a fucked out expression.

He loves it, loves that the effect you have on him equally matches the effect he has on you. And he especially loves the way his plan to get you all needy and cock drunk in order make you forget about your schoolwork is working.

He sets his hands on the globes of your ass, thumbs spreading your folds apart. He groans at the sight of you clenching and unclenching around nothing and raises a hand to land a stiff smack against your flesh, earning himself another whine.

You fist at the bedsheets and let out a wanton sob that sounds somewhat similar to a choked plead.

Aaron shushes you gently, grabbing his length in his hand and slapping it against your drenched folds. He smirks when your body jerks and stutters from the action, and he mockingly coos at you before lining himself up against your entrance.

A low yet high-pitched moan emits from your lips as the girth of his length slowly begins to split you open and stretch you out. You bury your face in the covers, gripping the fabric like a lifeline while your velvety walls envelop him completely.

Aaron’s hips slap against your ass as he bottoms out and he has to take a breath in order to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

“So good, sweetheart. So tight. You okay, my love?”

You whine but nod, your face rubbing against the comforter and surely leaving a trail of your spilled tears behind.

Spank! Spank!

You cry out, your ass stinging and burning up from where his hand lands.

"Words, honey. Use your words."

"Y-Yes! S-So good, so good." You let out a stuttered gasp when he pulls out only to slam himself back in and begin fucking you with a slow but deep, hard pace.

Aaron’s fingers dig into the side of your hips that he’s sure there’ll be bruises there in the morning. He delivers another harsh spank to your flesh and watches in delight as it ripples under his palm before speeding up his pace.

You’re a crying mess from below him, mouth open as sweet sounds pour out from your salivating lips. Your noises of pleasure mix in with the sound of skin slapping against skin repeatedly and harshly, each thrust sending you further up the bed.

Aaron groans from above you, feeling your pussy grip him like a vice each time he shoves himself back in to your hole. He knows he was doing this for you but, fuck, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't having the time of his life buried deep inside you.

"F-Fuck," you wail, feeling your legs shake violently as another orgasm begins to approach. "'M so close, s-so close, please."

"Yeah? Gonna cum around my cock, baby?"

You nod feverishly, unable to form any words with the way the tip of his cock prods at your cervix with each thrust. He was so big, so thick that it felt like you were being impaled in the hottest way possible.

It only takes a couple more thrust for you to be sent into a spluttering mess, your body convulsing around him violently as more saliva drools from your mouth with each muddled, vacuous string of words.

Aaron doesn't slow his pace even as you cry out for him to stop, tightening his grip on your hips as you try to run away from him.

"Uh-uh, honey," he tuts, reaching in front of him and grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you up so that you were sitting on your shaking knees. "Not finished with you yet. Gonna fill up this pussy, fill up my girl with my cum."

You can't do anything but moan in his hold, letting out a choked sound when his bicep comes around your neck to put you in a headlock but without too much force. Your head rests thrown back against his shoulder as he mumbles dirty, yet sweet praises into your ear, his voice sending further chills down your spine.

"You want that, baby? Want me to fill up this pussy with my seed?"

You moan loudly at his words, nodding as best as you can with the way he was holding you.

Aaron knew you were on the pill, knew you took it consistently and religiously because a baby was not in the books for the two of you. But, still, he loved the way your pussy always clenched harshly around his cock with this type of talk.

"Yeah, gonna fill up my girl's belly so that you don't have to worry about anything else besides keeping my come inside that pretty pussy."

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, spreading your folds with his finger before starting an attack on your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

You scream out, hands shooting out to wrap around both of his forearms. Another coil in your lower belly begins to form, this one stronger and more urgent than any other one you've had this night. Your nails dig into Aaron's skin and you mewl when he grunts directly in your ear.

Aaron nudges your face with the back of his wrist so that you were facing him, pulling you into a messy kiss as he continues swiping his finger around your clit until you're an even shakier mess.

"A-Aaron," you pull away, "I-I think 'm g-gonna--"

You don't even get to finish your sentence before you feel yourself gush around his cock, your release squirting everywhere. The bed is immediately soaked, the spluttering juices not stopping even as Aaron slows down his pace on your clit.

"Shit, baby," Aaron whispers, fastening his pace as his own release sputters in ribbons of white inside you.

You whimper, body trembling violently as his movements come to a rugged stop. You slump against the bed when he lets go of you, paying no mind to the way you lay in your own mess as exhaustion consumes your body.

Aaron rubs at your ass soothingly, slowly pulling out of you and cursing under his breath as his come spills out of your soaked folds.

"So good, my love. You did so good for me, sweetheart," He smiles fondly when you hum at his praises, leaning forward to press sweet kisses to the side of your face. "Don't fall asleep, pretty girl. Gonna go run us a bath, okay?"

You nod, eyes already closing.

Aaron chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face before standing up to get the bath ready.

"Oh, sweetheart," he calls out, stopping at the threshold of your room. "What were you doing before I came home?"

"Don' remember," you mumble, nestling into the sheets.

Aaron smiles.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hmmm just imagine Jason Todd with a girlfriend pretty and kind like an angel and everyone is just shocked because 'how they're a couple??"

Think I went a little of ask for this one 😂 🦦

Jason calls you his angel for a reason.

You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re downright beautiful/gorgeous and withheld an equally sweet, kind soul that bleeds through everything that you did or said. When you met Jason he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, finding him just slumped at your front door, severely injured. Anyone else who knew better would’ve left him but no, not you. You brought him -THE RedHood- into your house and home out of the kindness of your heart and patched him up as best as you could.

Heaven sent is another name of endearment that Jason called you and it held true on a plethora of occasions where he would find himself being dragged back at your doorstep, and it wasn’t long after that did Jason finally allow himself to pursue a chance at happiness by your side, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t the best decision he’s ever made in his entire life because being with you had been nothing short of a dream for Jason. A dream he never thought he’d get to live with the fucked up ordeal of having came back from the dead.

However when his family manages to catch wind of this because nothing stays secret for long, not by a long shot, their first thought was; how?

This wasn’t a slight towards Jason or his character but they couldn’t help but feel as though they’ve blinked and missed something extremely pivotal for this to have become the end result. They weren’t the only one to share this sentiment though as even Jason would be taken aback by your differences and often wondered if you were too different for your relationship to work.

It does however and it was one of the only times where Jason was grateful for being wrong for getting inside his own head, and just before he possibly ruins the best thing that has ever happened to him in a long, long while by self sabotage too. God only knows how much Jason would’ve hated himself for doing such a heinous thing to someone as underserving of such treatment as you.

So when Dick asks him one day ‘how did you manage to get someone like them?’ Whilst gesturing to you as you talked with the likes of Duke, Stephanie and Cass and getting along. Jason couldn’t think of a clear answer that would be enough to satisfy his brother’s curiosity because how was he meant to answer that question without it sounding generic and unoriginal.

‘Did you use any offhanded tactics to get them to be in a relationship with you?’ Damian asks and Dick gives him a look, only for the younger of the two of them to shrug his shoulders. ‘It was only a simple question Grayson.’

‘Yeah, just not one you ask when your brother comes home for the first time in months, and in a relationship nonetheless with the epitome of sweetness.’ Dick replied before looking over to Jason who was looking over at you with soft yet protective look on his face, but before Dick could say anything about how nothing was going to happen to you whilst in the Wayne Manor, Jason had already found the answer he has been looking for the entire evening.

‘They saved me.’ In the moment he said those words you looked over at him, Dick and Damian and smiled brightly that it never failed to knock the air out of Jason’s lungs upon seeing it. His angel, his heaven sent, the face he is blessed to see first and last thing in the mornings and late nights where he gently scolds you for staying up for him before kisses you in gratitude for doing so anyway.

Dick seemed content with this answer and meanwhile Damian looked visibly indifferent, he made a noise that said that he was also satisfied with this answer, just in time too as you came over to Jason and subtly held his pinkie with your own as you kissed his cheek. ‘You didn’t to tell me how cool your siblings were Jay!’ You began when Dick decided to join in on it too as he looked as Jason, betrayed. ‘You didn’t? Why not? Is it because you want your lovely partner to always be biased towards you?’ He pouts.

You chuckled and patted Jason on the bicep as you addressed Dick. ‘I’m always going to be bias towards my Jason.’ You admitted, causing a wave of warmth to flood Jason’s entire body upon hearing your confident confession. ‘For he is simply the best man I have ever met and that will never change.’

‘Never?’ Dick asked.

‘Never.’ You answered.

‘Even if he may be in the wrong sometimes?’ Damian asked this time and you shrugged, still smiling. ‘Not all of us are perfect beings and that’s a reality I’d accept rather than one where we’re all without flaw, physical or otherwise.’ Jason felt as though he might combust from your words alone but managed to compose himself enough to press a kiss to your temple to whisper against it. ‘Thank you baby.’

‘Anything for you Jaybirdie.’ You responded in kind, feeling him take hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you rested your head against his bicep as you both continued to talk with Damian and Dick.

Yours and Jason’s relationship may not be what many expected it to be or make logical but why should it when you and Jason were more than happy together?

[zoofzoofxx]

„OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(pt.1?????)

Pairing - Joost Klein x Fem!reader

Summary - As you and your little sister walk home, you notice a commotion near a car where a group of people is shouting excitedly. Your sister catches the name of a famous singer and eagerly wants his autograph. However, Joost seems more intrigued by you and proposes a compromise.

Genre - Fluff

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"Thank you very much,” I heard my sister express while embracing me. We were presently walking home; the evening was approaching, and we still had quite a lengthy distance to my flat. Several months back, I turned 22 and purchased a lovely apartment and moved out from my parents. My sister recently turned 16, so I invited her to my flat for the weekend, to go shopping, and then enjoy a delightful dinner as a gift. We were discussing the time my sister prefers to depart tomorrow because the journey to my parents' home is rather lengthy. Suddenly, we heard a cluster of individuals shouting and congregating near a rather luxurious car.

"What is happening back there?" my sister asked, wanting to go and see, but I grabbed her arm. "Let’s just go," I said while pulling her.

“JOOST CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!” “JOOST KLEIN PLEASE SIGN THIS!” “SMILE JOOST I’M MAKING A BEREAL!!!”

"Wait, was that Joost Klein?!" In a matter of seconds, my sister was by the car, fangirling like the rest of the group.

"Lorelei, let's just head back, I'm exhausted," I expressed, pulling on her jumper. The surroundings began to darken, and I had forgotten to bring a coat or a hoodie, assuming we'd return home early, but the chill was intensifying by the minute. I started to rub my hands together to generate some warmth. Lorelei continued to call out for the Dutch man who was sitting in his car, disregarding my words. I let out a sigh and decided to wait for her to meet Joost before we could head home. As time passed, the crowd dwindled, with many leaving, yet a few lingered. Eventually, it was Lorelei's turn, and she seized my wrist, pulling me along for moral support.

"HI JOOST, I’M SUCH A BIG FAN!" my little sister exclaimed. Joost chuckled at her excitement until his friend nudged him and pointed directly at me.

“Ey zij is echt mooi! (Ey she’s really beautiful!)” His friend grinned at me. I felt puzzled, so I returned the smile. Joost gazed at me, and we locked eyes for a moment before he looked away.

“Inderdaad. (Indeed.)” Joost said while nodding to his friend and then turning back to me.

"Feeling chilly?" the blond guy inquired, swinging open his car door and walking towards me. As he towered over me, he took a cigarette from his pocket and ignited it. He took a drag, glanced away, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled the smoke. Then, he locked eyes with me, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and waited for a reply. I was at a loss for words. In the background, I caught my sister's amused chuckle, and I noticed a few onlookers capturing this moment on film.

“I’m not cold.” I say looking away. Joost didn’t hesitate to grab my hand.

"False. Your nose is pink and your hands are chilly. And I saw you rubbing your hands and attempting to heat yourself up," the blond man remarked as his strong Dutch accent was evident. He chuckled, unzipping and removing his coat, then passing it to me.

"I-I can't accept that," I stammered, motioning for him to put his jacket back on, but he remained still. My sister gently nudged me, signaling to take the jacket. I glanced at her, seeing her thumbs up, and suddenly, it felt like I was back in high school chatting with my crush and getting support from my best friend. Joost nodded for me to accept his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, I finally took it. He blew the smoke in another direction, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and helped me zip up my jacket. The scent of his expensive cologne filled my lungs. He turned to my sister with a smile clapping his hands together.

“Sooo… You wanted a picture and an autograph?”He inquired of her, and she enthusiastically nodded. He strolled back to his vehicle while his friends chuckled. He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen, passing them to my sister.

“Can you write your sister her phone number?” He said gazing at me, giving me a wink as I averted my gaze sensing that my face would blush a light shade of pink. My sibling didn't even pause. She penned down the phone digits and aimed to pass it over but halted him.

"I want a hug too," she utters, and he chuckles.

"Let’s compromise, will you write her name and surname for a hug?" He said pointing at me, as I could hear his friends laugh, and I buried my face in my hands due to embarrassment. I could also sense the excitement among Joost's supporters who were laughing heartily.

"Of course! Her name is Y/n!" She mentioned writing something down and passing the paper and pen to him without any delay to offer her a significant, extended embrace. I caught her whispering something, and he burst into loud laughter. I simply grinned, relishing the sight of my sister's joy. Joost murmured something in return, and Lorelei stepped back and approached me. She began to quietly murmur something in my ear.

“No way-.” I said backing away and furrowing my brows.

"Please for my birthday!" She pleads, casting me those adorable puppy eyes.

"No Lorelei, that's an excessive request," I utter firmly, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Please." Joost emerged alongside my sister, giving me pleading eyes. I turned my head and exhaled deeply.

"What will you receive in exchange?" I inquire, exhaling and turning towards my sister.

"A meet and greet for an hour after his concert," she says, pleading with me and giving me those puppy eyes. I sigh and walk over to Joost, who's already lowering himself to my height. I glance at my sister, who's holding her phone out, waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. I just shake my head no, and she pouts. Looking at Joost, I notice he's smiling, his cigarette is gone. As I get a closer look, I realize he's actually really handsome. He gives me one last look and winks. I give him a light peck on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. The people around us go wild, especially his friends in the car. I glance at my sister, who's snapping a picture. I furrow my brows and turn back to Joost. His expression is gentle, and he's blushing, as am I.

"You smell pleasant." He chuckled, and I playfully hit his shoulder.

"Lorelei, go get the autograph and the image, and let's head back." I express, glancing at Lorelei as if nothing has happened. My sibling nodded, and a short while later, she bid her final farewell. Joost walked towards me, coming closer with outstretched arms for an embrace. I embraced him, then stepped back and started unzipping the coat Joost had given me.

"What are you up to?" He inquires as I glance up at him.

"Returning your coat. I'm warm, and it belongs to you," I mention, but he took my hand halfway and zips it back up.

"Take it, please, I insist." He casts those pleading puppy eyes once more. I exhaled in surrender, feeling weary and not in the mood for a conversation with anyone at the moment.

“Jij bent echt schattig. (You are really cute)” he said and I tilted my head to the side in confusion and he grinned. Embracing me once more and walking back into his car.

“Ik hou van jou! (I love you!)” Lorelei mentions, and Joost chuckles while glancing at the paper my sister handed him earlier.

“Ik hou van Y/n. (I love Y/n.)” He speaks, and my sister shrieks and pinched my arm while I remain confused. I simply grasp my sister's shoulder, and we depart. Glancing back one last time, I notice Joost Klein still gazing at me with a smile. He winks, offers a small wave, and raises his phone, indicating that I should check mine. I acknowledge with a nod, thumbs up, and a wave as we turn the corner..

After a few minutes of silence I heard a phone notification coming from my phone.

“Send me a message once you arrive home safely with your little sister.”

I passed my phone to my little sister so she could check the message, and she burst into screams of excitement once more. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at my place. Then, I heard yet another notification, this time from Instagram.

“@joostklein ✓ started following you.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the initial thing Lorelei did was play the track "Buurman Uit Berlijn" by Joost Klein and MCR-T. I strolled into my room and overheard my sister say:

"Y/n, remember to reply to Joost!" I just sighed and took my phone, sending him a brief message saying: "we got back home alright, appreciate the autograph and photo with my sister."

In less than 10 seconds, Joost replied, saying: "I have a lipstick mark on my cheek, thanks for that and the hug. You smell really good. If I were you, I'd check the jackets right pocket. I left a little surprise." With my toothbrush in my mouth, I headed to the living room, picked up the neatly folded jacket, and looked through the pockets. It was a letter that said ‘Y/n’ I opened it and inside were 2 passes for the Eurovision Song Contest… I almost chocked on my toothbrush, quickly grabbed my phone, and messaged Joost: “When did you slip those in!?” I hit send quickly and immediately got a reply: “When we embraced. Give one pass to your sister. I'll cover the flight and hotel, unless you'd like to stay with me in the same hotel room ;)” I knitted my brows in confusion. I hastily texted him: “I'm truly grateful. Goodnight.” And received a swift response: “Slaapzacht schat. (Sleep tight darling.)” I just left him on read going into sleep thinking about the kiss with Joost.

A/n- HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST STORY EVER ON TUMBLR DON’T HATE PLS 😭 HAVE A NICE DAY YA’LL 😊☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

#JUSTICE FOR JOOST

[pathologicalreid]

sense memory | S.R.

After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

part two

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: flangst content warnings: general cm violence, peter lewis, prison reid, cat adams word count: 2.64k a/n: i have no idea if i like this or not. it might be too cheesy. but i like cheese.

Second floor, apartment 23.

You leaned against the wall and slid down until you were sat on the ground. You left your bag draped over your shoulder, holding the strap tightly.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, sweetie,” someone said, causing your head to snap up. “Here to see him?” Spencer’s elderly neighbor asked as she passed, carrying a grocery bag in her hand from the market down the street.

Nodding, you smiled softly at her, “I was on a trip. I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

She hummed and kept walking to her door, apartment 24. “He went on a trip too, huh.”

Waving halfheartedly as she disappeared into her apartment, you leaned your head against the wall. Yeah, you went on a trip – a trip to witness protection, and Spencer went to prison.

Spencer went to prison. The words still felt foreign to you, you hadn’t heard them until two weeks ago after Peter Lewis died. Since he didn’t know where you were, he sent letters to your old address, and they were forwarded to the marshal assigned to protect you. When you left the program, you got the letters. 178 letters.

Some of them were several pages long, some of them were as simple as an I love you or an I miss you, and some of them had doodles, usually equations.

You wondered if he’d gotten your mail yet. The letters and pictures you’d collected for your marshal to send to him once you were out of WITSEC. You weren’t even sure if he’d want to see you, but your dad encouraged you to try anyway.

You had left in October, just after his birthday, and now it was May.

After being separated from your dad and Jack for so long, you went to stay with them for a week, but you knew you wanted to return to the district. You wanted to see Spencer, for closure if for nothing else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, JJ,” you heard him say from the first floor, and panic washed over you. The nerves of seeing him again had you wondering whether or not you could survive a jump out of the second-story window.

But the hallway windows didn’t open, you were left panicking, and then there he was.

You shouldn’t be here; you didn’t know what to say to him. The first person from your past should’ve been someone else. You could’ve called JJ or Penelope.

You saw him before he saw you, he was too busy digging in his bag for his keys. Pulling yourself up to your feet, you stood up and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans.

When he looked up and saw you, his expression went from confusion to disbelief to shock. Not once did he look happy, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he, like you, had been finding it hard to be happy lately.

Your chest ached as he walked past you and put his key in the lock. Spencer opened the door, and you held your breath as he held the door open, and you stepped inside of the apartment.

For months, you had imagined this moment in your mind, wondering what you would say when you finally got to see him again. He set his keys down on the entryway table before he turned around and faced you.

Familiar honey-colored irises studied you as if he was comparing the last time he had seen you to now.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were imposing on him.

Slowly, you walked backward out of the still-open door, resorting to the idea of never seeing him again. Until he spoke, “Please don’t leave me again.” His voice was soft, timid in a way you had never heard before.

You spun around and your lips parted in surprise. Tentatively, you stepped back toward him before you were right in front of him, inches apart, “I won’t.” It was a promise.

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but the next moment your arms were slung around his neck and Spencer’s were around your torso, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground.

He’d bowed his head so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer that had been answered.

Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, “I’m right here, Spence. I’m right here.” He was the same, and yet entirely different. Maybe more muscular, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell him that you would never leave him again, not as long as he didn’t want you to.

Everything had changed in the past eight months; you knew you couldn’t make him that promise. That I’ll never leave you promise. It wasn’t real.

But Spencer was real. He was real and he was clutching you the way you were clutching you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that you might bruise. “I got your letters,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You felt tears seep through your clothes as you took a deep breath and gently pried yourself away from him. “222 days,” he told you matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen you in 222 days because you were in witness protection and you’re apologizing to me.”

“Of course, I’m apologizing to you. God, I left the program, and my marshal was like ‘Oh, by the way, here are hundreds of letters from your friends and your boyfriend wrote to you while you were gone. And just so you know, your boyfriend was in federal prison for the last three months.’” You took a few deep, uneven breaths. “What am I supposed to do with that, Spencer? Stop looking at me like that!”

He was smiling at you, his eyes were still watery, but he was giving you a doting smile even so, “I missed you.”

You dropped to a crouch at his words, and he followed you down. Those were the only words you had needed to hear over the last eight months. Meekly, you looked up at him, kneeling in front of you. When you left, Spencer had seemed like he was on top of the world, his mom had been accepted in that clinical trial, and the two of you had been talking more and more about your future. Now he seemed… heavier. A more burdened person. “I missed you so much,” you cried.

Reaching over to you, Spencer gently wiped the tears from your face before pulling you close to him, “You look as beautiful as you did the day I lost you.”

The two of you toppled over as a result of focusing on holding each other instead of balancing. He laid back on the floor, holding you close to him. You looked up, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You never lost me. You could never lose me. I always knew I’d come back; I always knew you’d get Scratch.”

“I didn’t, though,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

You hummed, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your palm. “We’re here now, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Spencer pushed up so that he was being supported by his elbows, “That counts for everything.” He studied your face, “Where did that scar come from? It’s new,” he said, his voice still quiet, like you were an animal, and he was trying not to scare you away.

“Oh,” you murmured, “bashed my head on a door. Only me, right?” You brushed him off before clambering to your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Ask him if he wanted to talk? You used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose. God, he had called you beautiful with snot running down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, staring at the floor. “I know, I know you’re going to say that I don’t have anything to apologize for, but I’m apologizing anyway. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry that Morgan, my dad, and I all left within the same few months.”

He shook his head, “If you hadn’t gone, you’d most likely be dead now. I’d rather miss you for eight months than grieve you for a lifetime.”

You stepped away from him until you backed into the couch, “I thought about calling you. I had no idea that I wouldn’t have been able to. I just thought that-“

And just like that, he was kissing you. It was inevitable, just a question of who would make the first move. A small, shocked noise bubbled in your throat before you leaned into the kiss. It was gentle, tentative even. You gripped the lapels of his jacket as if he’d fade away, but you kissed him gently until he pulled away. “You showing up is the best thing to happen to me all year,” he murmured, sweeping your hair behind your ears. “You remain the most important person in my life.”

“Second most important,” you corrected. “How’s your mom?” Some of the information in his letters didn’t seem overly optimistic, mentioning him bringing her home to stay with him and a medication that he was getting in Mexico.

Spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile, “She’s good, I just went to see her with JJ, actually. She’s staying at a home in the district now.”

You smiled, “That’s good, keeping her close will be good for the both of you, I think.” Spencer reached around your body and pulled at your jacket, “What are you doing?”

“Taking your coat off in an attempt to coax you into staying,” he answered candidly.

Humming, you allowed him to pull the coat off of you, watching intently as he hung it on the coat rack. “Spence?” His name still felt foreign in your mouth as you moved to sit down on the couch.

He looked at you once he finished hanging his own coat, “Yeah?” Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. A calculated decision, giving you space, but not sitting in a different chair.

“We should talk about it,” you responded, swallowing thickly. “All of it. Everything,” you continued. Millburn. Cat. Mr. Scratch.

Spencer went first, talking to you intently about what happened in that hotel room in Mexico. When he told you what Lindsay had done, you had to swallow your anger. Every once in a while, he’d trip over his words, and you encouraged him to take a break. You laid down on the couch and Spencer nestled in right next to you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and enabling you to play with his hair.

Eventually, he told you about Scratch’s takedown. How Luke had watched him dangle from the ledge of that building before he fell to his death.

You sniffled at the end of his story, “I’ll have to thank Luke next time I see him.” You said, closing your eyes and reveling in your sense memory. The smell of his shampoo – tea tree – and the smell of his apartment – stale coffee and old books.

“Where were you?” He whispered, reaching up and skimming the scar on your forehead with his fingertips.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find his brown ones watching you. “Minnesota,” You whispered, “St. Paul.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “Then Sacramento, for a while.”

His brows furrowed, “Why did you leave St. Paul?”

You hesitated, afraid to speak about the event. One of the worst things to have ever happened to you, right on up there with the death of your mother. “My uh…” you cleared your throat, “my location was compromised.”

“Does it have anything to do with the scar?” The one you had lied to him about hours ago.

Shutting your eyes, you nodded almost imperceptibly, “It has everything to do with the scar.”

You could see him starting to put a story together on his own, there was a scar on your face that hadn’t been there last year. A scratch. “What happened?”

The memory was there, you wanted to bury it, but it would stick with you forever. The scar on your forehead would fade, but the scar on your soul was permanent. “I did it, I put the scar there,” you admitted. “I don’t know how he found me,” you whispered, that same feeling of defeat rising in your chest.

You were lucky that there was no one else in the house for you to hurt because if Peter Lewis had turned you into a murderer, it might’ve pushed you over the metaphorical edge. As you spoke to Spencer, you told him as much. You were in a bad place while you were in WITSEC.

The two of you remained curled up together in a mess of tears and limbs and fistfuls of shirts and the overwhelming fear of being separated. Looking at him simultaneously broke your heart and put it back together again. “Sacramento was nice, but I missed the East Coast,” you whispered.

“What about your dad?” Spencer asked softly. Part of you wondered if he wanted to go to sleep, it was dark outside now, but you couldn’t be bothered to check the time.

Nodding, you sniffled, “he’s in Philadelphia with Jack, has been the whole time. That’s where I’ve been, with them.”

Spencer lifted his head to look at you, “Where are you staying tonight?”

Sighing, you shifted on the couch, “In a hotel, I’m apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“No,” he said simply, a frown forming on his face.

You laughed lightly, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

He shook his head, “I mean don’t go apartment hunting tomorrow, stay here with me. Stay here tonight, too.” He said, voice bordering on pleading.

“Spencer, we were together for almost six years and never moved in together,” you told him, arching one brow in suspicion. You had talked about it, it just never seemed to happen.

He sat up fully, “I’m tired of making excuses about breaking leases and travel times, Y/N. There’s not enough time in life to keep avoiding it,” he gestured wildly with his hands as his voice slowly rose.

You tried to wrap your head around the idea, “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through before making a decision this big.” Folding your hands in your lap, you noticed the first real change in him. This was impulsive.

“I spent three months in prison thinking about you!” He said loudly, “Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going.” That was quieter like he realized how loud he was actually being. “I knew there was my mom, I knew there was the team, but seeing you again… that kept me going.” He studied your face and based on the emotions you were feeling you could only imagine what your expression was, “Is it me? Is it everything I told you that I did? The poison? Cat? Do you not love me anymore?”

Your breath hitched, “I love you. Of course, I still love you.” Finally, you saw it. He was different, but at the same time, he was still the boy who hid his feelings from you – afraid of upsetting your father. The two of you had a long way to go before you could be together in way you used to be, and maybe things would never be the same.

His shoulders slouched forward in relief, “then move in with me.”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder, “okay.” You took his hand in yours, expertly intertwining your fingers as if no time had passed. “Okay,” you whispered. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.

“And for the record,” he murmured, “I love you too.”

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