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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...

› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader

prompt; ❝ well, honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me. ❞ and ❝ don’t be nervous, i’ll guide you through it. ❞

word count; ~ 6.1K

× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king

request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶

disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.

tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts

Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.

Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda.

Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it.

So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.

He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.

Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you.

Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you.

However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.

Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?

These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.

Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it.

He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home.

Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near.

Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face.

“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck.

“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders.

You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on.

“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck.

Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.

“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows.

“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes.

“Why do you ask that?”

“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.

“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed.

“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound.

“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded.

“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”

“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–”

Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest.

“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss.

Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him.

“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure.

“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now.

Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley.

“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat.

“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you.

“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves.

“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip.

“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you

“Good girl.”

Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts.

“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you.

“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form.

His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.

As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear.

“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts.

Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often.

“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you.

“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–

“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face.

“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break.

“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before.

Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity.

“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.

“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck.

“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later.

“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too.

“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it.

“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips.

“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger.

“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times.

“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin.

“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.

“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god.

You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you.

“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how?

As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat.

“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.

“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck.

“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal.

“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you.

“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection.

“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.

“I say stop and we stop.”

“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise.

Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it.

“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate.

Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.

“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core.

You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you.

“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him.

“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine.

Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety.

“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you.

Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh.

“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands.

Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you.

“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you.

“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock.

“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls.

Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure.

Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you.

Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans.

“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.

“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you.

Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy.

Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs.

“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting.

“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back.

AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3

special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #my writing #smut

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naturesapphic · 6 months

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May I request a lady dimitrescu x insomnia reader, Like sometimes the reader won’t sleep at all and Alicia helps them fall asleep?

Insomnia

Lady dimitrescu x fem!reader

Warnings:

It’s another one of those nights again where your insomnia was really kicking your ass today. You were lying awake in the shared bed you had with your wife alcina dimitrescu and you were watching her sleep soundly. You were jealous that alcina could fall and stay asleep so easily while it took you a long time to sleep or you just don’t get to sleep at all and feel tired all day.

You slowly got up and out of the bed and decided to get a glass of warm milk, usually drinking warm milk helps you get a bit drowsy which makes you fall asleep. You just hope that it will work tonight. When walking, you decided to check in on your three daughters and found them sound asleep in their separate beds.

Smiling to yourself, you closed the door and went downstairs into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get the milk. You poured some into a cup and heated it up for a little before carefully placing it on the counter to pour some raw honey into it and stir it around. You slowly drink it as you stand in the kitchen looking out the window, watching the moon.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turn around to see your sleepy wife looking down at you. “Draga? What ever are you doing down here?” Alcina asked with a groggy voice as she rubs her eyes gently. “My insomnia is making me not sleep so I thought I could go down into the kitchen and fix me some warm milk with some honey to see if that would help me.” You explained to her.

She cooed at you and gently lifted you up into her strong embrace without spilling your drink and walked upstairs with you. “What are we doing alci?” You questioned her. “I’m going to help mea dragostea sleep of course.” She answered as she walks through the doors of y’all’s shared bedroom and put your cup down onto your nightstand.

She tucked you into bed and went into her side and instantly brought you into her arms. You laid your head onto her soft chest and she started running her fingers through your hair as she started to sing softly to you. You started to feel sleepy as her delicate fingers and voice made you fall into a deep slumber. You could always count on your sweet alcina to always help you, even if it’s falling asleep.

A/n: as I don’t have insomnia I hope I didn’t offend anyone who has it and if I made something up or wrong let me know! :) I hope @neicey2005 and the rest of y’all enjoyed it! Remember Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!

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tlouadditc · 1 year

Text

ride, cowgirl.

cowgirl gf oneshot.. abby x f!reader

warnings: smut w/o plot, 18+ [MDNI], softdom!abby, sub!reader, riding 😫, strap usage [r], strap is referred to as abby's cock, country abby [yeehaw!!], lots of pet names, mommy usage

a/n: i was listening to frank ocean [pyramid, duh] and i thought abt this so i wrote it LOL also farmer/country ass gfs are hot thx !! okay hope u guys enjoy

smut under the cut :3

"attagirl, there she goes."

your hands grip abby's shoulders, holding on for dear life as you bounce up and down on her cock. you've came twice by now, and now she's making you ride her. small, pathetic whimpers leave your mouth as she praises you, forcing your hips back onto her lap. "c'mon, darlin', you got it. jus' a liiiittle more."

"abs, i-i can't," you cry, body starting to get tired from the repetitive motion. her warm, but rough hands soothe your aching thighs. "oh, hun," she shushes, planting small, gentle kisses on your cheeks. "it's okay, i got you."

abby wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you closer than ever. she turns her attention over to your flushed face as she runs her fingers through your hair.

"here, m'gonna take care of you, mkay?" she says softly, making eye contact with you. you simply nod and bury your head into the crook of her neck.

she thrusts up into you, hard and fast. god, the way she did it almost made you scream her name. you tighten your grip on her shoulders, wailing in her ear about how deep she's inside you.

her hands grip your hips, keeping you in place. "fuck, i swear i can feel your pussy," she says in awe, moving one hand from your hip to hold the flesh of your ass. "so fuckin' tight, shit."

you're completely fucked out, head blank with pleasure, eyes rolling into the back your head. abby looks at you, smirking before shifting her attention back onto fucking you. "that's right," she coos. "let mommy fuck you right, darlin'."

she holds you still while she thrusts in and out of you, releasing squelches into the house you're in. cries and wails fall out of your mouth, making abby damn near drip. your sounds are like music to her ears- if she could listen to them on repeat all day, she would.

you feel the knot in your belly, threatening to unravel any second now."holy fuck," you sob, "m'cumming, mommy, fuck-"

"go ahead, cum for me, baby."

all at once, your vision goes blurry and your cunt squeezes around the silicone. abby moans with you, slowing down her thrusts as you come down from your high. when you're done, your legs are weak and trembling. she chuckles and slowly removes her cock from inside you.

"such a pretty thing, did so good f'me," she coos, analyzing your face as she cups your chin. she gives you a small peck before saying, "lets get you cleaned up, doll."

#tlouadditc #abby anderson smut #the last of us smut #tlou fic #tlou2 smut #abby anderson x female reader #lesbian

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qtboni · 1 year

Note

cowboy simon x f!reader???

I don't know what else to add, it would be nice if it was smut yk??

I just saw a video where a masked man dressed like a cowboy aslo he still has a naked torso and he is so tall and in very good shape and when I saw this video for some reason it reminded me of Simon

(sorry, english is not my native language, sorry if there are any mistakes!!)

HAI ANONNIE !! OMIGEE COWBOY SIMON IS SO HOT !? like he can yeehaw me every damn time wtf ☝️😍

╰﹒ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon indulges you in your pretty lil fantasies <33

C/W: MDNI. smut w/ fluff + dom!simon riley, sub!f.reader, petnames (love, baby, pretty girl), lotsa teasing, neck kissing, lil manhandling, lil belittling, lotsa praises, thigh riding, humping, clit stimulation, aftercare

W/C: 1.9k

"You're so easy to please, love," Simon chuckles as he had you in a state where you were unable to move, or speak, or even think rationally. Not after when he had obliged to indulge in your naughty little fantasies of being fucked by a cowboy in the late night hours. You could only let out a whimper for him.

You claimed you were joking. But you weren't, really. You had been dropping little hints about those fantasies all the time, asking if he would be up for a cowboy roleplay in the bedroom. He had grumbled a "sort of" agreement when you asked if he was down for it, but you hadn't realized he was really on board for it.

That is, until now, when you found yourself sprawled on your back on the bed, completely weak under his touch.

Simon was dressed with a black cowboy hat atop his head, a sexy red bandana encircling his neck, a thick cowboy belt wrapped around his hips, and dark jeans hugging every curve of his delicious thighs. And to top it all of was his famous skull mask, hiding his face. No shirt. No top. He was beyond shirtless. And my gods, were your pussy right now is dripping with need when you looked over at his abs.

You find your heart racing and your hands trembling as Simon leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Do I make you nervous?"

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought of him being so close, his warmth and presence filling you with a sense of exhilaration that's hard to contain.

"...Yes," you whisper breathlessly in response, your voice dripping with need. Your heart is pounding with excitement, and your body feels on fire with desire as you look into his eyes.

You watch as Simon moves closer, his lips ghosting gently over your throat as he kisses your neck. Your mouth parts and you moan softly, your body tensing and shivering with arousal as he lightly nibbles on your sensitive skin. Your breath quickens and your heart beats faster, overwhelmed by the thrill of it all.

With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, you pulled him close to you, desperate for more of his touching. Your body responded to his kisses, jolting with pleasure as his lips nibbled down your neck. Your hips writhed and squirmed under him as he suckled on your sweet spot.

The heat was building up inside you as Simon's kiss roamed down to your shoulders, and your entire body was buzzing with sensuality. You were lost in pleasure with each sensation of his touch, and the world around you seemed to fade away that you fail to notice Simon pinning your hands above your head.

Simon whispered softly to your ear, "Always so obedient for me, hm?" while he suckled on the skin under your ear. You couldn't help but to squirm and whine with need, your needy whimpers begging him to make you feel good. It made his cock painfully throbbing with need.

Simon's raspy chuckle drove you mad with arousal, as he licked a long striped line from your neck to the base of your ear, leaving a wet trail. You moaned and tried to move your hips to relieve your aching pussy, but Simon firmly gripped your hips and held you still, his touch driving you mad with lust and desire.

"Behave."

Your mind was swimming with pleasure as you looked into his half-lidded eyes through the skull mask.

"Please..." You tugged on the red bandana wrapped around his neck and pulled him down to you, intending to kiss him. But Simon's hold on you was strong, and he pulled you back, his teeth digging into your ear.

You cried out, but the sound was quieted when Simon's mouth covered yours in a hungry and rough kiss. His tongue plunged deep into your mouth, exploring in a demanding and passionate way. He broke the kiss only to move his lips back down your neck to suck and bite your skin, his touch driving you wild with lust.

Your hands tangled in his hair as he continued exploring your mouth with his skilled tongue. You sighed softly as his passionate and rough kisses sent waves of pleasure through your body. But the sensation was not enough, and you wanted more.

You pressed your body against Simon's, your hands roaming along his chest and thighs as you yearned for satisfaction. But Simon had other plans, and rolled you over so that you were now on top of him.

"Ride me, pretty girl," Simon mumbled against your ear, his voice raspy with desire and need. He was looking up at you, his eyes blazing with passion as his hands gripped your hips. You felt your body shiver with arousal, as you moved your hips to hover just above him.

With your naked pussy pressed on top of his bulge, you started to grind down on him, your hands planted on his pecks. You let out a soft moan as the friction made you feel wetter.

"No, baby, ride my thigh," Simon purred with a low chuckle, as he stopped your hips from moving, gripping at it hard. His voice was filled with heat and lust, his eyes dark with desire. He pulled you closer to him, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your hips to glide along his thigh. You let out a moan of pleasure as this felt even better than before.

"Good girl," Simon growled as he continued to guide you in grinding down on his thigh using his arms. His voice was raspy with lust, and his words were an encouraging challenge as his touch grew more intimate. You let out a moan of pleasure as you felt your legs trembling with excitement. Your hips slid along the curves of his thigh, and his touch sent electrifying shivers down your spine.

He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he whispered in your ear, "You like that, don't you, baby?"

You mewled when his fingers trailed up your back, sending warm tingles all over your skin. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself becoming lost in his touch. You couldn't resist grinding against him harder, craving the pleasure he was providing. With each movement, you felt your desire building stronger and stronger.

"Simon.."

His lips curl into a smirk as he hears your plea, the desperation in your voice fueling his own desires. He moves his hands from your back, letting them trail over the sides of your body, his touch light but lingering. He can feel how your cunt was completely drenched with your precum, seeping through his jeans, leaving a wet spot in its wake.

"You're doing good, baby," Simon groaned as he grabbed your waist tighter, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going," he whispered eagerly, his grip firm and his touch thrilling as you continued grinding down on his thigh. The sound of his encouraging words, and the feel of his presence made your body squirm with enjoyment.

"I'm trying, Si'.. Please." You breathed heavily and moaned softly, as Simon coaxed you into grinding down harder and faster into his hard thigh. His hands gripped the sides of your waist firmly as he made you move even more quickly.

"Better," he breathed softly in between pants, his words filled with praise and encouragement. The sensation of his firm thighs in contrast to your weeping cunt made your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Groaning, Simon grabbed his black cowboy hat from his head and placed it on to yours, smiling seductively.

"You're so hot like this, baby," he said in a low, raspy voice. He looked into your eyes with a knowing smirk, and his touch made your skin tingle and the heat build up inside you.

Wanting to indulge into his fantasies too, you placed your hand on top of the hat and smirked at him as you grinded your hips harder. You watch as Simon's grip falters and tosses his head back to the feel of your cunt rubbing on his now stained jeans.

With every frantic thrust you did, your eyes fluttered with pleasure as the trail of fire reached your lower stomach, the familiar sensation making your thighs tremble. You sobbed out on to his shoulder, lazily nuzzling into his neck, seeking comfort and support.

Simon bit back a moan as he heard your sounds, his cock already twitching with desire. He wanted this moment to be special for you, but the sight of your pleasure was enough to overwhelm his senses and stir his primal urges. He had to have you.

As you breathe heavily into his neck, you feel his hand gently caressing your back, feeling the tension and tightness in your muscles as you collapsed onto him.

Your body was still trembling from the pleasure, and you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. Your breath was shaky as you were in a state of pure bliss and satisfaction, and Simon's gentle caresses felt like a comforting hug.

"Shh, it's okay, baby," he whispered gently as he lifted you from his lap and laid you on the bed. His caresses continued as his breath brushed over your neck, sending a tingle of pleasure down your spine.

Your muscles felt relaxed and loose, and your body was breathless from the wave of pleasure you just experienced. You felt languid, and in a state of contentment and bliss. His gentle caresses felt wonderful against your skin.

Simon softly kissed your forehead and smiled gently at you, his touch still sending chills down your spine. You were breathless and content, and every moment with him felt like a dream. So it was a blur when Simon cleaned you up with a wet towel, your body still trembling from passion. He wiped away the cum, as well as the rest of the arousal on your thighs.

He had also tenderly rubbed out the sweat and the redness on your face and neck with gentle caresses as helped you feel clean and fresh again. When he was done, he lay down beside you on the bed, and pulled you close to him, putting the cowboy hat on the bedside table.

"Did so good for me, hm?" Simon said gently as he cupped both your cheeks and looked into your eyes, making you smile. The love and warmth in his gaze made you feel comforted and safe, and you could feel your heart beating faster with excitement at the thought of being with him.

You hummed in agreement as your eyes fluttered in slumber. Your body was still trembling from the pleasure, but a small giggle came out from your mouth as you mumbled out, "You'd be a great cowboy.." With your body completely relaxed and content, you let yourself go and slipped into a deep sleep in his arms.

Simon laughed softly at your sleepy statement, and bent to kiss you on the lips, carressing your cheek.

"Sure am, love, with the prettiest cowgirl in my side."

navi / masterlist !

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cuntdestroyer3000 · 9 months

Text

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist part two here

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.”

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post.

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became.

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in.

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest.

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

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hobiespick · 4 months

Text

Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 2

<33

a/n : fuck it we ball sammy headcanons part 2, I made a shit ton of them (yeehaw i made another moodboard) hope you guys like my shitty thoughts (i am acting so nonchalant but i am actually shaking i'm so goddamn nervous) , thank you sm for all the likes and feedback ! Enjoy!

Summary : Headcanons I wrote for Sam x reader (can be read as gn!reader), very few are abt Dean, mention of Sam's childhood, Sam being head over heels for u, Sam being flirty, the reader is mentioned to be shorter/smaller than Sam.

-He carries around your hairties: around his wrists, the pockets of his brown jacket or his wallet - buys Dean bubblegum air fresheners for baby. - he's a communist so his favourite icecream flavour is berry - he is the one to tell you to please call him Sammy. You've never dared to call him that, you know he doesn't let anybody else call him that besides dean, your last wish is to make him uncomfortable or annoyed. Infantilizing a 6'4 man would be the most emmbarassing way to get dumped. - you would rather fall face first into the ground than actually call him that - so when it's a lazy day and you’re both laying in his bed (u were physically dragged there by the giant) you hear Sam mutter something tiredly in your neck as his koala grip on your waist gets tighter. "What was that?" You ask softly. He has to drag his head up and look at you his hazel eyes seem dark brown due to the lighting in the room and his hair is messy, strands sticking up and down, he looks adorable. "You can call me Sammy" he repeats himself clearly voice lower than usual but geniune as he rubs the back of his knuckles over his eyes. You smile fondly at him, "Ok" you reply using the same soft voice as if you replied with a voice any louder than that you would ruin his sleepy state. He nudges his head back into your neck with a satisfied sigh. You can't help but travel your hand up to his hair to run your fingers through it and kiss his temple. "Night, Sammy" you whisper. He mutters something else in your neck but you know it's 'goodnight', feeling him smile against your skin before falling asleep fast, a result of the level of trust he has in you.

- avril lavigne enjoyer (he is a teenage girl your honor) - you bother him with psyhological questions to scare him or something but he answers them with the same amount of melancholy for shits and giggles - he is a feminist

- really really likes sarcastic people, playing along with you, just shooting back snarky replies at eachother (he is flirting)

- likes being one of the very few people you trust - he also gets unconciously close to you - you both could be in a large room (inside a haunted house probably) and he would still be right behind you, glued to you like a gum to a shoe - can you imagine not paying attention and walking right into him - me personally I would break my nose, have you seen his chest? holy fuck

- that one time you mouthed off a victims relative for not giving a fuck about his missing son but he got verbally agressive quick and Sam had to swoop in and save your ass, putting himself infront of you shielding you from the vic's relative calming the situation down Imediately. - Dean unfortunately wasn't there, he was checking out some place where the vic might have been before they went missing, it was just you and Sam supporting (interrogating) the family - I am mentioning this because if Dean was in fact there things would escalate fast, you're basically his little sister.

- Dean probably loved indiana Jones as a kid ( dunno if this is canon or not I am on szn 2)

- you and sam were asking eachother questions, getting to know one another to pass the time once on some kind of stake out. - you asked him what was his favorite stuffed animal as a kid - he said he doesn't remember. (*sounds of uncontrolable sobbing coming from me n u*) - he asked you what was yours to change the subject - he would lie if he said that it didn't bother him, not remembering something normal people can easily recall from their childhoods - you replied back with your kid self fav stuffie smilling at the memory but feeling bad for Sam , heart aching at his confession - "i'm sorry you don't remember Sam." you say geniunely, how can someone be robbed of such a normal thing everyone should have? You've never wanted to buy someone a stuffed animal as bad as you do now. I know I am the one talking about "infantilizing a 6'4 man" but please, I can allow to contradict myself just this once. - he asked another question to shrug it off, he usually doesn't want anybody's pity, but yours felt honest, almost like his past hurt you too and he can't help but have the perverted need to tell you all about his fucked childhood, to have you hug him, maybe he was selfish and wanted desperately to be comforted by you. - "What was your favourite book when you were 13?" He skips past the subject quickly with an oddly specific question because he is Sam

- remembers Dean to drink water, Dean does the same with Sam just not verbally. Dean leaves water bottles where Sam can see them and Sam pretends to not notice it smilling to himself everytime he opens them and takes a sip

- gets some kind of sick twisted amusement from seeing you flustered (i'm so sorry I was literally talking about childhood trauma a min ago and now Sam is flirty) - example, you theorize with Sam about the monster you're having trouble identifying, he also can't hear you and you literally started muttering to yourself like a mad scientist, so to kill two birds with one stone he leans in dangerously close, looks you in the eye with a stoic expression and has the audacity to say "Hm? I'm sorry I can't hear you sweetheart." In his low drawl, LAWD HATH MERCY AHSHSBHAGA - he breaks character and smiles when he sees you get pulled out from your pondering haze - "M-might be a vengefull spirit." You repeat yourself, that little stutter and faint crimson on your cheeks shattering your whole 'badass, intimidating hunter' thingy you got going on in a matter of seconds, feeding his ego with a spoon.

- thinks it's cute when you and Dean act like siblings.

- he always knows what you need. "Sammy can you please give me my-" and you’re cut off by the sight of Sam already holding your sweater, the item of clothing looking ridiculously smaller in his hands. and if you jokingly ask him to put it on you too he just might (he is that head over heels for you) - if you ask him how did he know you wanted your sweater he would reply with something along the lines of "I saw it in my visions." sarcastic little shi- - he saw you running your hands up and down your arms before asking him - and since he is boyfriend coded, it's in his instinct to know what to do

- if he was feeling cute he would've enveloped you in a bear hug in order to warm you up.

- if you see him reading please pick up that unread book i know u have on your nightstand and read beside him. It can be your lil cute routine, can you imagine he just drags u to the couch or his bed, holding 2 books one of yours and one of his because it's comfy reading time, oh you're alone doing nothing? nah BAM QUALITY TIME BIATCH

a/n: kinda lost sleep because of these but it's fine, I also think imma post and write for fun ,still learning the ropes of writting but uh yeah, again hope you guys like these feedback would be very much appreciated! 🫶

#sam winchester x reader #spn #dean winchester #supernatural #jared padalecki #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles #supernatural headcanon

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underoospeterparker · 7 months

Note

CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE BABY!!! i’d like to request 🪸 CORALS !! with the idea of cowboy!james and innocent!reader in mind teeheeee <333

YAY babe thank you so much ily!!! challenged myself to use some slang hehehe

join the celebration

cowboy!james potter x innocent!fem!reader, 0.9k words, hurt/comfort, angsty

tw: (slight) violence, blood mention, toxic ex, swearing

James strolled over with the confidence of a man who'd already won his race. "How're you ladies doing tonight?" He asked you and your friends, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"Well, bless your heart for asking," Mary Rose blushed, "we're fairin' just fine," she added, a huge smile on her face. James reciprocated it, but it wasn't as pleasant as hers had been.

When she turned around, you rolled your eyes and James chuckled, taking a seat next to you. "No need for jealousy, darlin', you know I'm all yours," he said, his voice deep and quiet. This time you were the one blushing, forced to hide your red face in the crook of his jacket.

It was a second later when you pulled away, and you noticed Mary Rose's glare from across the bench. James surveyed your eyes quickly, a touch of concern in his big brown eyes. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

You were quick to nod at him. Giving him your best smile, you asked, "when's that race of yours happening?"

He checked his watch on his wrist, then got up to stand. "Reckon it's about to start in a blink of an eye," he replied, grinning at you. "I'd be mighty honoured to have you by my side, darlin', will you come to cheer me on?"

Mary Rose was quick to speak up. "You bet your spurs we'll be there, cowboy!"

James looked at her with a small smile, then turned to you as she began getting her things ready. "I'll be front and centre," you reassured him, and his face brightened. "Wearin' my finest cowgirl hat," you added, giggling softly. "Now go show 'em how it's done."

Your boyfriend saluted you and head off to the races. "Yeehaw," Nellie squealed, tugging at your arm as you laughed along with her. "Let's mosey on down, ladies!"

While you climbed down the stands, hand-in-hand with Nellie, Mary Rose pulled you aside, her grip tight on your arm. "Don't think for a moment I didn't notice you cozying up with my ex. You better watch your back, partner!" Mary Rose's nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. She pulled away when Laura called her over, waving with a fake smile on her face.

You winced as you looked down at your arm, crescent moons left in her wake. You covered it up as best as you could, pulling your jacket on although it was mighty hot outside. Then, you returned to the race tracks to watch James ride.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round," the announcer clapped his hands excitedly, "we've got a lineup of fine cowboys ready to tear up that track. Among 'em, we got James Potter!" The crowd roared with enthusiasm as James made his way onto the track, a massive grin on his face. You waved happily at him when he blew a kiss to you good-naturedly.

Mary Rose turned around to look at you, glaring. "Say, (Y/N), I need to make a trip to the outhouse. Would you be so kind as to join me?"

You couldn't refuse, not with all of the girls surrounding you, so you nodded, even though James was about to ride. Mary Rose would have done much worse if you hadn't.

She gave you a smile, then pressed a heavy hand to your back, leading you to the bathroom. James, however, noticed your disappearance soon after, and swiftly mounted his horse. He quickly rose over to where the girls were stood. "Where might I find (Y/N), ma'am?" He asked Nellie pleasantly.

Nellie pointed over to the outhouse, and James nodded, saying, "much obliged, my friend."

He climbed over the fence, although the announcer was yelling at him to get back over and on his horse. James started to jog over to the bathroom, starting to get worried. "Shucks," he said under his breath, swinging the door open to find you cowering in a corner, a bruise blossoming across your face.

You managed to gain some confidence, however, and you struck a painful punch across Mary Rose's face, so hard that she stumbled backwards. "You bitch! I'm gonna-"

James stepped between the two of you. "Hold your horses," he said, his face hard. "I'd never lay a hand against a lady, but you raised a finger against my sweetheart. So I'd suggest you keep your distance."

With tears in her eyes, Mary Rose nodded and stepped out of the way. James turned to you, nothing but care and worry in his eyes as he surveyed the damage.

"James," you murmured softly, "any reason you're lingering 'round here instead of hittin' the track?"

He smiled, "I gotta take care of my girl, y'know? She's my top priority." James cupped your cheek, face softening when you grimaced in pain. "Shhh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he crooned over you, wrapping you up in his arms, "don't you worry. I'm gonna take good care of you." He paused, making sure you were listening. "And I ain't one to make empty promises, darlin'."

You smiled up at him. "No doubt in my mind, cowboy."

183 notes · View notes

clubdionysus · 3 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #43] Circles

warnings: subby koo <3, begging, handjobs, semi-public ig, jk calling himself a slut <3, edging, fingering, pussy eating, finger sucking, reader on top yeehaw, jk calling reader a slut (nicely i promise), titty sucking, vvv messy finish lawl, cum swapping, confessions??, feelings??, communication???, the moon????, some v cute moments actually!

notes: my fave thing about bd chapters is the doodles that went with them bc they're lil time capsules and u just know how the release of seven influenced me/bd hehhehe

wc: 11.8K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"You've got so much sand in your hair," you muse softly, resting your head on Jeongguk's shoulder. Legs are wrapped around his waist, your chest is to his broad back as he carries you through from the kitchen to the living room.

It's just you and him, now, the main house quiet, save for your giggles and his reciprocation. The sand is residual from your chat on the beach, but you're still not really sure how he managed it—but it's sort of like your glitter. Gets everywhere even when you don't mean for it to.

The noraebang session you had returned to had died a brutal death. Jimin and Taehyung blessed your eyes and ears with a theatrical rendition of Bop to the Top from High School Musical, which scored them a mere 28.

Jimin threatened legal action. Taehyung begged Danbi for reassurance that his version of Sharpay's lines were flawless.

Too drunk for their own good, the rest of your friends had trundled back to their bedrooms. You and Jeongguk insisted that you wanted to clean up. Get the kitchen and sitting room fresh for the morning.

Really, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time together. After an evening of ignoring him, you're desperate to fill your heart with his energy.

So far? So good.

The kitchen is spotless, as if the sitting room. You could go to bed now, if you wanted to.

But you don't.

As you reach the sofa, Jeongguk continues to keep you wrapped around his body, sitting you both down together. The scent of his aftershave is a little subdued, worn away throughout the evening, but it still drives you wild. Gets you pressing a silly little kiss into the curve of his neck.

He's pretty sure if you do it again, he'll die.

You're only in this position 'cause you'd started yawning, and Jeongguk didn't want you to fall asleep. Wanted you to stay awake with him into the early hours. You'd gladly obliged, his broad back the perfect place for you to get cosy.

Easing your position, your legs loosen, hands dropping to his waist.

The scent of his fabric conditioner steals the show as you press a kiss into his shoulder.

Apparently you've lost your Goddamn mind, and are ignorant to the boundaries of platonic friendship. You don't behave like this with 'friends'—but it's nothing new, you suppose.

And you and Jeongguk most definitely aren't just 'friends'.

He's your favourite of all your friends, yes, but you care for him like a lover. Comfort him like it was your soul's purpose in a lifetime before this one. Find his gaze in crowded rooms as if you've spent millennia looking for him. Rest your head on his shoulder as if the crook of his neck was carved just for you.

He thinks it was.

"Like a little koala," Jeongguk fondly muses, one of his large hands stroking down your ankle while the other uses the remote to flick through the television options. He doesn't care much for shows nor movies these days, but just doesn't want to say goodbye to this day just yet. Wants to spend more time with you. "Watcha wanna watch?"

"Not fussy," you hum. In all honesty, your eyes are a little heavy. Whatever he puts on, you're gonna end up falling asleep. It's just a lame ass excuse to snuggle up with him in the most domesticated of ways. "Whatever you want."

Squeezing at your ankle, he says, "So you won't complain if I put Boss Baby on? WWE? Teleshopping? Porn channels?"

Shaking your head against his back, you smile. "You won't put Boss Baby on 'cause you've spent all weekend with Jimin."

"True."

"And teleshopping is a bad idea because you're weak," you tell him with absolute certainty. "They'll trick you into buying things"—

"Will not."

"Will too," you insist, knowing that he's just as bad as you when it comes to ridiculous, unnecessary purchases. "Porn channels are redundant 'cause I'm the only thing that gives you a boner these days"—

"Fair."

"So it looks like wrestling is your only option," you deduce, ignoring the way he just confirmed your joke about his boner situation.

In all fairness, Jeongguk hasn't even tried getting hard thinking about anything other than you lately. You're the only thing he desires. Only person, only body, only heart. Why waste time thinking of anything else? Wouldn't make him cum half as hard.

"I know your tricks," Jeongguk hums with a jovial air of nonchalance, opening up Netflix. "Get us watching WWE, learn a few tricks, then tackle me in a bid to seduce me. I wasn't born yesterday, Byeol. Can't fool me."

The way your body gently moves behind him when you laugh is nothing short of euphoria for Jeongguk. He loves this. Loves being with you.

For all the jokes that could be made about the validity of your claims of platonic friendship, you really are his best friend.

There's nobody else he'd ever wanna hang out with like this. Enjoys his space, yet seems to hate space when you're around. Wants to be close, close, close; always, always, always. Will stick to you like glue, if you'll let him.

"Don't need to tackle you to seduce you," you assure him. It's proven by the way his breath hitches as your hands sink to the top edge of his leather belt. You don't do anything. Just toy with the material a little. Tease. Say, "I barely have to touch you, do I? I bet you're getting hard now, aren't you?"

Suddenly, you don't feel so tired, anymore.

Sleep can wait. Getting Jeongguk off can't.

There are two options for Jeongguk in this situation: denial, or acceptance.

He's pretty sure both of them will end in his dick getting wet.

May as well have a little fun with it.

"Nope," he lies.

The truth of the matter is that Jeongguk gets stiff at the drop of a pin when it comes to you. The mere mention of sex sends blood flooding to his cock. The implication that you might want to fuck him? Oh, he may as well have been going at it for half an hour with how much it makes him throb.

"Don't believe you," you whisper.

Jeongguk is still flicking through Netflix, but doesn't choose anything to put on. Is too distracted by the way you delicately stroke his belt. You could find out for yourself, if you really wanted to. He wouldn't object.

In fact, he encourages it, when the hand that had been holding your ankle comes to rest over one of your hands. Pushes it down. Rests your palm over his crotch, and pushes his hips upwards. Grunts.

"Yeah," he says, slowly pulsing his hips, building a firm pattern, the bulge of his cock fitting perfectly into the shape of your hand. "You're right to not believe it."

The Netflix search is abandoned as soon as you purr, "Let me get you off, Gguk."

The position you're in is kept, Jeongguk's belt threaded through its buckle, trousers unbuttoned, zip yanked down in a desperate bid to get your hands around his cock as quickly as you can.

Jeongguk tips his head back, breaths laboured. His crown rests upon your shoulder, as he hums into the satisfaction of the feeling your hands provide him with. "Tighter, baby. Grip it tighter."

You can't see what you're doing. Are relying on the feeling alone. Know his cock well enough by this point that it's no issue.

He gets a little pouty when you pull one of your hands away—but gets so incredibly vocal when you spit on your fingers and wrap them back around his thick shaft. Tells you how good you feel. How pretty your hands are. How much he wants to cum all over them.

God, he'd defile you right now, if he could. Sully your skin with his sex. Get those slender fingers of yours, and pretty nails, and just cover them in his cum.

Thing is, he wants to last. Has to push thoughts of finishing to the side. Can't embarrass himself like that, even as he whines into your touch like a little bitch.

Pushing his hips up into your slippery palms, Jeongguk is utterly obsessed with the way you feel.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he whimpers when you pick up the pace, his breathing all out of sync and so terribly cute. "You're so good to me," he praises. "So good."

Handjobs are typically fleeting whenever you fuck Jeongguk. A means to an end. This is different. Your hands are moving with purpose. He's jerking himself up into your palms 'cause he needs it. Needs you.

So you tease him—"So needy, aren't you?"—and are ever so pleased when he confirms your accusation. He nods. Grunts. Bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his noises.

And it's cute. So cute how much he likes even the simplest of sexual endeavours with you. Kind of feels like he never knew how good it could be—to fuck and be fucked in return—before he met you.

There's something about Jeongguk when he's like this— pathetic —that just really gets you going. You know you're soaked in your panties. Dress pooling around your hips, you wonder if he can feel your arousal. It's sort of unintentional, the way you grind your hips up against him. You're just turned on. Want him as badly as he wants you.

"You're fucking yourself into my hand like a desperate little slut, aren't you?" you giggle into his ear, nibbling on his lobe. You know it will drive him mad.

"Shit," he curses, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to his neck. Whimpers when your lips latch right onto his sweet spot. "Such a slut for you, B. God, baby, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard."

Every single word he utters is laced with a heavy, lustful breath. He's losing his mind. Forgot the simple pleasure of a pair of pretty hands.

"Beg for it."

"Byeol," he whines.

"Beg for it," you repeat. "Tell me why you deserve to cum, huh?"

"Cause you fuckin' want it," he grunts, shuddering a little as his torso twitches from the pleasure he's fighting. "You wanna see me cum. I know you do."

"That's not begging," you say as you press a light kiss to his neck. "Do better."

And against all odds, he does.

"Let me cum," he breathlessly whispers. "Byeol, please let me cum. I'll do anything."

The power trip is unbelievable. Too good to give up.

But the tortured, laboured whimper he mewls as you release your hand? The way his body doubles over? The hushed curses under his breath?

Makes it so incredibly worth it.

"I'm on the verge of death," he pants when he realises what you've done. Squirms beneath the pressure of his undelivered pleasure. "Oh God, I'm gonna fuckin' die. You're gonna kill me."

He's being dramatic. All you've done is withheld an orgasm. Edged him a little.

All weak and limp, Jeongguk's hips are still involuntarily pulsing, cock desperate for release. Balls so tight he really does think he might die.

And so he pulls away.

Decides that if you're gonna be a brat, then he's gonna be even fuckin' worse.

He gets to his knees. Rids himself of his dress shirt. Positions himself right between your spread legs. Is gonna give you a taste of your own fuckin' medicine.

Jeongguk hooks his arms under your thighs and yanks you forward, for no purpose other than to plant kisses all over the soaked lace of your underwear as quickly as he possibly can.

Dress pooled by your hips, the access is easy. He's already deduced that you're only wearing the bra and panties of the three piece set, but he doesn't give a fuck.

Truthfully, when it comes to having sex with you, none of that matters.

Skin on skin is what he wants. Closeness. Togetherness.

"Oh, fuck me," he chokes out when he's sees how badly you want him, dark eyes tracing over the lines of your slick core.

He slips his index finger beneath the strip of fabric that covers your pussy, and pulls it to the side. Has never felt hunger quite like it. Brings his middle finger to your already soaked hole and gently pushes inside. Sinks down to kitten lick against your clit, utterly obsessed with the taste, the scent.

"God," he barely pulls away. Brushes his lips against you as he speaks. "I could just fuckin' die in this cunt."

"Then do it. Die for me," you tease, hand coming to tangle in his hair, encouraging his lips to suction around your clit. His finger continues to fuck itself into you, quick in its pace. He pulls back. Spits. Reattaches himself to you, as if he can't bear to be apart.

The sensation of Jeongguk is almost too much to bear. Almost .

Toying and teasing, he's manipulating your pussy with his hands all in a bid to get your body writhing.

There's something to be said for the way his touch just absolutely controls you. Domineers. Dictates. How he can be as soft as his silky hair in one moment, then as hard as his sharp jaw the next.

He hums in approval as he sucks on your pussy, palm to the sky as he begins to pick up the pace of his fingers. There's a lewdness to the sounds that you make together; a harmony that's so disgustingly human it almost makes him forget that you're not of this world.

Brighter than any of the stars shining in through the window, you're beaming. Alive with the feeling of Jeongguk laying claim to you, as if he's just discovered one of those scam name-a-star websites. Card data already input into the checkout, he'd waste all his resources on you.

His tongue is flat as he delves between your folds. Flat, and firm and fucking divine— until it's pointed, and precise and overwhelmingly perfect. Heat travels through your entire body, from the tip of your toes to the tops of your fingers. It's bliss. He's bliss.

The thing about stars is that they burn. Are red hot in a way that Jeongguk failed to realise when he first became acquainted with you. Every touch of your body has rewritten the fabric of his. There are constellations in his fingerprints; cosmic entities where your lips have pressed your adoration into his skin.

Jeongguk is not the same man he was before he knew you, and he'll never be the same again. The scars you leave are promises. I'm yours. Invisible to the naked eye, yet entirely obvious to anyone who spends time in his company. You're mine.

His mouth is a little too preoccupied to make any silly declarations right now, mind you. Lapping at your pussy, Jeongguk eats you out like he hasn't had a good meal all week. He'd starve for seven days if knew he'd have the luxury of your taste by the time Sunday arrives.

"Nicest pussy ever," he promises when he finally takes a second to breathe. Looks up at you, eyes glossy. Starry. The tip of his nose shines in the haze of your hedonism, lips wet. "Nicest pussy in the whole world."

"Oh yeah?" you giggle, a little amused with how sweet his compliments are. Sweet, and stupid, and simply impossible for him to test the validity of.

Not that he ever wants to. Only wants you.

You scratch behind his ear, and Jeongguk's puppy-dog tendencies return as he leans into your touch. Smiles. Hums in complete contentment.

"Mhmm," he says, leaning back down to press kisses all over your slick lips, fingers thick as they continue working your pussy for his viewing pleasure—and for your pleasure, full stop. Punctuated with pretty kisses in the place of full stops, he says, "And it's mine . I get to have it. So lucky, baby. So lucky."

There's no luck to this. None whatsoever.

A little fate, maybe. Destiny.

"Yours?" You raise a brow.

He doesn't give you a verbalised response.

Just wraps his lips around your clit, and keeps his eyes open this time. Looks up at you, dark eyes twinkling, dewy nose pressed into your skin, his desperation to devour you evident. Lets his fingers scissor inside you. Gets your toes pointing. Has you looking to the sky. Your back arches, fingers tight in his hair.

"Gguk," you whine, as if he's in any position to respond to you—but he does .

He hums, and— fuck —the vibration around your clit sends you orbiting.

"That's it," you breathe out, looking back down as a familiar sensation begins to take control. He doesn't ease up. Keeps stroking at your sweet spot. Keeps sucking on your clit. Keeps doing what he's doing 'cause he loves what's about to happen.

Ever the gentleman, and incredibly unlike you ten minutes ago, Jeongguk decides to let you ride the wave of the orgasm crashing over you. Doesn't wanna deprive you. Wants you to feel good. Knows it won't be the last time it happens tonight.

"Shit," you choke out as your shoulders press down into the sofa, one of your hands instinctively cupping your chest. The dress you're wearing is still covering most of your body, but it doesn't matter. Jeongguk'll get you out of it eventually. "That's it. That's it— fuck ."

The way your walls begin to tighten, legs hooking around the back of his head as your entire body shudders, is almost enough to make him finish, too.

He thinks it's the hottest thing he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Doesn't understand how he can find such pleasure in someone else's orgasm, but knows if it came down to him or you, he'd sacrifice all of his for one of yours.

Moaning as he drags you to a height of pleasure reserved only for the brightest of stars, Jeongguk smiles through it all. Reluctantly pulls away from you with laboured breath, chest heaving from the fact he kinda forgot how to breathe. Was busy. Thinks your pussy is more important than his survival.

"You good?" he checks, resting his pretty head on your thigh. Keeps his fingers plugged inside you, but slows the movements to a halt. Just keeps you full, 'cause he can. 'Cause he wants to. 'Cause he's lowkey obsessed with you.

With a nod, you let your body relax into the plush pillows of the sofa. Giggle. Keep your legs over his shoulders, but hold your face in your hands, as if you're embarrassed by how hard you came for him.

But then a kiss is pressed to your inner thigh, pretty and soft, accented by the hardness of his lip ring.

"You came so well for me, baby," he praises. Thinks it's cute how shy you get whenever you cum. So pretty and perfect and his. A shallow laugh gets caught in his throat, before he shakes his head and sits up a little straighter. "So gorgeous when you cum. Pretty, baby."

Jeongguk has never been more in love.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. The tepid movement makes your back arch ever so gently, pussy still sensitive from your climax. Eyes on his, you know him well enough to get a read on his intentions. His desires.

So you just smirk. Let your lips part. Hold your tongue out ever so slightly, eyes wide, expression playful. He follows your lead. Brings his messy fingers to your lips. Sinks them into your mouth, and is met with the most glorious sight.

The expression on your face changes . Darkens .

While, yes, your eyes are still wide, it's your cheeks that really get him, now.

Your typically sweet cheeks are hollowed, your bone structure exclusively on show for him. It gets him throbbing. Gets him wrapping his spare hand around his cock—not that it needs any encouragement. He's still rock-hard for you. Still wants you.

Is proven, when he begs once more. "Let me fuck you, babe."

A smirk settles on your lips as he pulls his fingers back. You shuffle in your seat. Readjust. Keep your legs spread and encourage him to squeeze onto the sofa with you.

The angle is a little off, and it definitely isn't gonna be how you fuck him, but it brings him closer to you. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to smell your arousal on him. Close enough to let him sink his tongue between your lips and get lost in you once more.

All you ever seem to want these days is to be close to Jeongguk, and even then, close is never close enough. His lips are on yours, your tongue in his mouth, his hands all over your body—and still it's not enough.

There's something missing; words that would fuse you to him. Words that you know damn well if uttered right now would end in disaster—so you bite back the desperate, hungry, declarations that are dancing in your throat. Reach for Jeongguk's hand. Force him to wrap his fingers around the base of your throat, just so you can keep those pesky words at bay.

The squeeze of his wide hand around your neck is welcome. Not too harsh, just strong enough to let you know that no other necklace would suit you half as well as Jeongguk's pretty, tattooed hand does.

It's force of habit, more than anything, that makes his spare hand drop to your pussy. Fingers flat, he rubs over your clit at the speed of lightning, not for any grand purpose other than to make you shake a little. Smirks, when you do exactly as he thought you would.

"Look at how easy you are for me," he husks, pressing his lips across your cheek, down your jaw. Squeeze your throat a little tighter. "You gonna let me fuck you, huh?"

The tables have turned.

You're the pathetic one, now.

"Uh-huh," you whine when he sinks his middle finger back into your pussy. He's quick. Repeats it a couple times. Loves how needy you are; how noisy your pussy is. So fucking wet for him.

As he pulls his hand from your cunt and wanks himself a little, he revels in how your slick juices feel against his shaft. Doesn't know how the fuck he found pleasure in anything before he knew you. Knows he'll never find pleasure in anything else. You've corrupted him. Completely and utterly. Ruined.

His lips trail to your ear, hands roaming your body. Squeezing. Appreciating. Devouring.

He's quiet, when he husks, "Want you to ride me."

"Say please," you quip back without missing a beat.

It's not like you're gonna say no—but you are gonna make him beg a little.

"Please, B," he says so daintily it's as if his cock isn't all red and engorged and leaky at the tip for you. He's got the body of an angel, but all it makes you wanna do is sin. "Be a good girl for me. You know you want to. Fuck me how you want to fuck me."

He does know how to ask nicely, you'll give him that much credit.

Jeongguk pulls away and sinks into the sofa beside you, certain you'll do as you're told.

His arrogance will catch up with him one day, but you're too eager to please him right now. All you wanna do is fuck him right, 'cause you know he'll fuck you right in return.

There's no objection as he pulls you onto his lap. No time wasted as he rubs the tip of his cock between your soaked folds. No bodies more connected than yours when he finally pushes up inside of you.

He groans. Throws his head back. Holds your waist and is reminded of your dress. Decides that it absolutely needs to go.

The way he rids you of the silky fabric is barbaric. You don't know where he throws it. Don't know if it's still in one piece. All you know is that his lips are on your skin as soon as they can be, his hips rutting up into you, cock nudging so deep inside of your cunt you can feel him in your fucking throat.

Okay, so maybe that's dramatic, but he just fills you so fucking well. Is so big. So nice.

His hand wraps around your back to release the clasp of your bra with little to no effort. He sheds you of your clothes and has you exactly how he wants you: naked, whiney and ever so beautiful as you take his full cock inside you.

Jeongguk's not small. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He's easily got the biggest cock you've ever taken, yet your body adapts to him effortlessly. You're tight, yeah, but not painfully so. It's all pleasure. You're made for him, and him for you.

The thickness of his cock is amplified when he grabs your waist and begins to bounce you at a faster pace.

"Oh, shit," he curses. "God. Taking me so well, aren't you, B? Taking this fat cock so easily. Oh, fuck yeah. Pretty, pretty slut."

It's been a while since he got vulgar with the name-calling. Was reminded of how much he likes it when you'd done it earlier.

You'd forgotten how much you like it too; how much you like the acknowledgement that you'll slut yourself out for him, and him alone.

"Whose slut are you? Huh?" he asks, never caring for a response. Just gets a little loose with his lips when your pussy gets tight. "Who does this cunt belong to?"

"Oh, God," you mewl, unable to form anything coherent.

He almost fuckin' snorts as he laughs. "Don't think this cunt does belong to God."

"Fuck off," you laugh. Find it so endearing that he still finds the time to joke with you. "Gguk"— his hips thrust up harder, and you have to curse him out a little before you can continue —"It's yours, you prick."

He smirks. Tips his head back, the clamminess of his body making this all so much filthier. There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dappling him. His tattoos seem even more vibrant now, your hand holding onto his arm for dear life as he rams his cock into you.Slows his hips a little. Rolls them now. Husks, "Mine."

"So big, Koo," you mumble into his lips, as if he doesn't know. It's so much more satisfying hearing your stay. Your words are stuttered. Slurred. Fucked out. "Baby, you're so big."

"Don't call me that," he husks. Grabs your tits. Plays with them just 'cause he can. Teases your nipples. Pinches. Makes you mewl. "Call me that, and you'll make me fuckin' nut."

It's not just 'Koo' getting him needy today. It's 'baby', too.

Jeongguk has always been the one more naturally inclined to call you baby—but just because you don't say it as often doesn't mean you don't think it.

God, you wanna call him baby all the time these days. When you're lazing around together, when you greet him, when you're giggling with him in the sanctuary of his bedroom, birds looking on with a fond curiosity. Baby would just roll off your tongue so naturally, if you let it.

And so, in this moment, you do.

"Hmm, baby?" you torment him.

"B," he stays sternly as he pulls you down onto his dick. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, as deep as it can possibly go. You mewl. Gasp. Whine. And he loves it. Loves the way you sound; loves that the sounds are all involuntary and that it's his size making it happen. "Don't wanna cum yet. Wanna fuck you for hours."

It already feels like it's been hours, but it also feels like it's been no time at all.

Sex with Jeongguk alters the time-space continuum. It has to. There is no way that fucking Jeongguk doesn't transform the world in some way, shape or form.

Or maybe it's just your world that it alters. Your life. Your heart.

Taking back a little control, you rake your fingers in his hair, and pull them taut. He gasps. Stutters out a moan. Eases his grip on your waist to let your hips roll at a slower pace. He puts you in control, 'cause it's what you want.

He'll give you anything you ask for. Everything.

"Shit," you curse, grinding against him. The friction of your clit rubbing up against the neatly trimmed pubic hair is nothing short of euphoric—and when his lips latch around one of your tits? Sucks on it softly? Is tender with his touch instead of the slightly aggressive, domineering Jeongguk you were expecting? Oh, you won't last long at all. "Feels so good, Gguk."

"Mhm?" he hums, vibrating around your nipple, his thumb coming to rub at your neglected bud on the other side. God, he loves your tits. Wants them in his mouth all the time. Quite the change since your first meeting. Doesn't know how he lived without them before.

"Mhhm," you nod, pressing your lips to the top of his head.

The way your bodies are moving together is anachronistic; of a time before casual fucking and the conventions of modern dating. It's primal. Lethargic in the way you want to experience one another; eager in your yearning.

It's as if you knew him in another life. As if the stars have always intended on you merging. As if you've been a black hole waiting to happen, but now in the abyss you find abundance: Love, acceptance, contentment by the bucket load.

Eventually, the pace builds like you knew it would. Jeongguk's grunts get loftier. Your moans get shorter. Sharp. They hitch at the back of your throat, and Jeongguk kisses you until they dissolve onto his tongue.

It's as he's playing with your clit that a second, far stronger, orgasm is drawn from you. You think you see stars. Jeongguk knows for a fact he sees stars.

He also takes it as confirmation that you're getting worn out; that he doesn't need to hold off finishing.

His hand grips your ass, working you up and down his shaft in a desperate bid to coax an orgasm out of his cock, even if you're a little fucked out. It really doesn't take much to get him there; to have him cursing your name and kiss your neck.

"Oh, shit, babe," he pants. "Where"—

"Tits."

" Fuck ."

Neither of you care for the awkward clambering as you get between his legs once more, nor the dizzy disposition of your knees after your orgasm.

All you care about is Jeongguk. His pleasure. Making him cum.

You want to be the reason. Want him looking at you.

And he does.

It's delicate, how violently his body unloads itself for you. His lips are parted, brows furrowed as he wanks himself for you. You've always loved him like this. It reminds you of the early days—a little too scared to touch one another, but desperately wanting to.

It's different now. Touching Jeongguk is a natural inclination that's reciprocated. If he couldn't touch you— innocently as well as intimately —then he'd probably die.

"Cum for me," you beg, holding your tits together for him.

He shudders, legs twitching as the sensation boils over, and he shoots thick spurts of semen all over your chest. You gasp as he does so, and regret not asking for it in your mouth—so you lay your tongue flat for him. He gets the memo. Rests the tip of his cock on your tongue as massages the final spurts of his load into your mouth.

"Shit," he curses, then drags you back up to his lap. Clasps either side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss so desperately that he doesn't even wait for you to swallow. Licks into your mouth. Whines when he tastes himself. Drops a hand to squeeze at one of your tits, and ends up just rubbing his cum into your skin.

It's filth. Real fucking dirty.

And yet it's pure.

Unadulterated desire shared between you both. Reserved only for one another.

Eventually, as the kisses begin to ease into teeny tiny pecks, Jeongguk laughs to himself. Shakes his head. Beams as he cups your jaw and presses one final, deliberate kiss into your lips.

"If you keep fucking me like that, you're gonna get me saying all kinds of dumb shit," he promises.

"Oh yeah?" You giggle, reaching across the sofa, still in his lap, to retrieve his shirt. Thread it over your arms, you don't bother to do it up - you just know that dawn is brewing on the horizon, and fear a rogue friend of you both strolling over to the main house for some reason. Your back is to the large windows, but wouldn't take a genius to work out what's occurring. "What kinda dumb shit?"

"Dunno. Shit about how you ride me so well," he praises, eyes darting around your face, 'cause he's obsessed with every single part of you. Eyes, nose, lips. Wants them all. Settles for a nudge of noses. "So good at making me feel good, baby. So good. God, I can't believe I get to fuck you."

There's a genuine look of relief on his pretty, smiley features, as if there'd be a reality in which you'd ever turn him down.

"Can't believe I get to fuck you," you giggle right back, as Jeongguk begins to preen you. He smooths your hair. Studies the glitter on your cheeks, but doesn't change it. Loves it just as it is.

"Shut up," he says, a little bashfully—as if he wasn't the one to start this whole complimenting one another bullshit.

Jeon Jeongguk always looks so pretty in the afterglow; skin made of stardust, a smile that shines. The clamminess of his skin always makes him seem a little rounder, a little softer. It's cute—and right now? It's just for you .

You half think Jeongguk is gonna throw some sort of childish remark your way, until his demeanour sort of stiffens a little. His teeth press down on his bottom lip, and the ring, of course, does the thing. He seems perplexed. Concerned.

You're about to ask, but then Jeongguk decides that you shouldn't have to.

He should just tell you. What he thinks, how he feels.

And so he says, once more, "Byeol, I don't wanna keep going around in circles."

Pulling away a little, you snuggle down into the couch beside him. Giving him the space to pull his Calvins back up, there's a comfort to the serenity you're basking in.

Anyone who saw you now—you naked save for his shirt, traces of his sex glistening on your skin, and him in his underwear—would be forgiven for thinking you were a pair of newlyweds after their big day. Snuggling into another, it's a dangerous place to get too comfy. You really should go back over to the side-house that you're supposed to be sleeping in.

"Then start going in a straight line," you counter, childish in your tiredness.

He hums out a small laugh, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. "I mean it, B. What I said earlier."

"Which part?"

"The part where I told you I wanted you," he says quietly. Squeezes you tightly. Needs you to know he's telling the truth. "No one else. It's just as true now as it was when I first said it."

"You don't know what it's like to 'have' me. I'm not easy to handle," you say candidly.

Jeongguk thinks you're incredibly easy to handle. It's your asshole ex-partners that have been difficult.

"Nor am I," he says softly instead, not fighting back against the perception you presented. Knows how you work. Knows you'd never believe him regardless. Will just have to prove it to you over time. "I don't want easy. Don't want anyone else. Just want you."

Feels like a moot point, now.

You know how Jeongguk feels. It's been established.

But it's late, and you're both a little tired and probably a bit cranky from the alcohol. Need to sleep.

And so when Jeongguk cuts the conversation, chucks you his shirt and offers you a piggyback ride to the house, you accept it.

Just like you accept it when he drops you off in your room, and never leaves.

His own bedroom is rendered useless, for there's nowhere else he'd rather dream than right next to you.

Jeongguk doesn't fight sleep when it comes. Falls into it willingly, arm still looped over your waist to keep you close. He doesn't mind the heat. Doesn't mind your hair in his face, or the inability to move freely. Would far rather sleep with you like this than alone.

Typically, you'd find it easy to fall asleep in such a position. Not with anyone else—you'd be frustrated with their warmth, and imposing touch—but with Jeongguk, it's always welcome.

Tonight, you stare at the ceiling.

Grey in the light of the bay that seeps in through the window, the emptiness feels as calming as the boy beside you. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to sleep, but your mind seems to be racing at a mile a minute, filtering between the security of time spent with Jeongguk, and the instability of exactly what you are.

The conversations had today have shined a little light on Jeongguk's feelings, but it's still nothing solid. You're still just friends. An attempt had been made at changing that, but it was a fruitless endeavour. Just feels like Jeongguk was right—you are going round in circles.

People can be fickle, and you know that Jeongguk has been holding out his heart from hurt recently. You doubt he'll be willing to venture down the path he's already travelled with Hayun. Why make the same mistakes twice? You're both supposed to be growing. Learning.

Falling into something with you is the opposite of what he should be doing.

Yet his arm is looped around your waist, bare skin sticking to yours in the heat of your embrace. He clearly finds comfort in you, but isn't confident enough in his feelings to actually commit to you.

And you shouldn't compare—you know this—but you've been made to feel like this before.

So you adjust. Shakes out of his shackles. Can't leave, 'cause it's your room, but you consider it - where would you go? To his room? To the beach?

Anywhere but here.

There's not really much thought put into it when you eventually slip out from the duvet, and quietly head down the stairs. Are childish as you stick your middle finger up in the direction of Hayun's room, just 'cause you're sick of her and her impact on your life, but aren't willing to actually argue with her. Unseen passive aggression is your new best friend.

Sliding the front door open, you're met by the chill of the cold spring air. All you're wearing is Jeongguk's button-up - the same one he'd taken off you before bed with little care for seducing you.

That being said, he did frown when you went to change into pyjamas. Insisted that you didn't need them. Had you naked beneath the sheets with no intention of fucking you - which felt like a headfuck within itself.

You don't mean to be this way; to be so suspicious of innocence.

Your insecurities are deep-rooted. They'd been so well conditioned into the fabric of your being that they now sit flush against your previous expectations of relationships. They're impossible to pick away. They need to be excavated, then re-filled with a new understanding of what it's like to be loved.

Jeongguk's been trying.

It's hard work, though. Laboursome. Strenuous. Stressful. Takes far more time than it really should.

He thinks it's the easiest job in the world.

The reward is so much greater than the investment. There's no sunk cost fallacy with you; even if it doesn't work out between the pair of you, he's hoping he'll at least heal the wounds left by someone else. Wants you happy and healthy, only. Always. Endlessly.

The sea that stretches in the distance and far beyond your eye-line is in a state of the rest. The moon has calmed the tides or so it seems. As you crouch down, feet flat to the floor on the lawn, you hope she'll do the same for you.

There's a crunch of gravel in the distance, and you know exactly where it's coming from. Who's stepping across it in search of stars.

Part of you hates that he's awake so suddenly.

Most of you loves it.

Coming to crouch behind you, Jeongguks knees spread to either side of your body. Chin resting on your shoulder, he restrains from holding you—but only because he's aware of the fact you left. Doesn't want to trap you.

"Watcha doin," he mumbles, voice croaky, the heat of his body warming you up. "Fuckin' freezing, B. You've no trousers on."

Nor does he. In fact, he's dressed even more poorly than you are, in just a pair of boxers. Though summer is approaching, the nights here are still worthy of a padded jacket. Jeongguk's temperature is running warm, like it usually does when he sleeps. If he were to hug you—which he won't until he's certain you even want that—you'd realise this.

"S'not too bad," you say of the temperature, even though you know your nose must be ever so blushed.

"Is too," he counters quietly, the movement of his jaw as he talks forcing his chin to dig a little into your shoulder. It doesn't hurt, though. Never hurts. Jeongguk will never hurt you, not really. You do that all by yourself. "And you didn't answer me. What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep," you reply without giving him space to breathe, because honesty feels too daunting.

"Did you try?"

"To sleep?"

"Mhmm," he sleepily mumbles.

The truth of the matter is that no, you didn't. Imaginary sheep remain uncounted.

Turning your head to face him, you are pleased to see him in this state: hair fluffy, eyes puffy. He's never cuter than he is in times like these.

The moon reflects on his lip ring, specks of glitter still on his skin.

"Pretty," you say, 'cause you think he deserves to know exactly what he is.

"Pretty," he just repeats back. Is soft in his tone. Gentle. Calming.

Maybe it wasn't the moon you needed after all.

Jeongguk's lips are feathery as they brush with yours, closing down slowly. The application and removal of pressure works like clockwork, just like it always does, and the subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips is welcome. You reciprocate. Swipe your tongue against his, and encourage him to intrude—but he doesn't. Not really.

While yes, on a technicality, his tongue is in your mouth, it's not how it usually is. It's slow. Lamblike. A soft reminder of how tender he can be.

"Come back to bed," he says quietly, barely pulling away. "Wanna sleep with you." He clutches your jaw. Kisses you again, but this time lets his tongue stroke against yours a little more deliberately. "Want you to stay with me, B."

He's so much needier when he's sleepy. So much cuter. Daintier.

"Don't want you to ever leave," he whispers. Kisses you again, so that you can't reject his request.

Leave what? His bed? His life? His embrace?

He doesn't clarify, and you don't ask for it, either.

Instead, nose resting against his, eyes closed, a serene smile on your lips, you say, "Ever? I have to stay forever?"

Jeongguk nods. Kisses you quickly. "That'd be preferable."

But there's an all too large awareness looming on Jeongguk that you left .

History is repeating itself, and it's so much more bitter the second time around.

There's an embarrassment that comes with this acknowledgement.

Perhaps it's his own fault. Perhaps he hasn't really given you enough time to process everything. Hayun has always been a sticking point, and her being here has shifted the mood completely, but Jeongguk really thought progress had been made. That maybe you and him were starting to figure things out.

But you've both got experiences that taint this stage of falling for someone else. Your defences have been up ever since you came to realise that maybe you've been lying to yourself about your true feelings for Jeongguk.

So to look across dining tables and be confronted with the woman he once thought he'd marry?

It sorta killed you, a little—or at least it kills the idea of longevity with Jeongguk. A pact was made, after all, and Jeongguk is a man of his word.

It's all you can think about whenever you look at her, so fuck knows what he must be thinking about when he does.

He loved her once. Her, with her cherry red lips and feline smile. Her, with her ambition and her wit. Her, with everything that you're not.

Confusion comes with the confrontation of the girls once loved by the man you adore.

"Is it not strange?" you ask, turning to face away from him. "Having to be around Hayun all the time? Is it not awful for you? Don't you"—

"No," he interrupts your final question. Doesn't care to hear it. Knows you're in your head again over stupid shit. "B, how many times"—

"You were in love with her," you stress the words softly. A fight isn't what you're looking for. Not in the slightest. You're just trying to understand . "When I first met you, Gguk, you were in love with her."

Knowing what he knows now, feeling how he feels now, he isn't so sure.

"Was I?"

Ignorant to the fact that Jeongguk thinks you're incomparable to her, you don't fully trust his questioning.

"Yes."

Jeongguk takes a second. Knows that whatever he says next will dictate the rest of the conversation.

There's something about Hayun that just gets under your skin. No matter how much reassurance you get from him, there always will be. It's his own fault, he thinks. Knows that he's the one who informed your opinion, but fails to realise that you wouldn't have liked her regardless. She's just not your kind of person. Too critical in her gaze. Too stand-offish. It's really not hard to understand why she caused Jeongguk to develop a myriad of complexes.

"Well, what about Seokjin?" He questions now, not looking for a fight either, but definitely a little agitated in his tone. "If you're so over him, why were you comparing me to him earlier?"

"You know that's"—

"Different?" He scoffs, but still holds you. Holds you tighter, actually. "How? How am I meant to hear a comparison to your ex and not think you still have feelings for him?"

Funny, how similarly you view one another's exes.

Jeongguk is sick of Seokjin. Has met the fucker fewer than a handful of times, yet he has to bear the weight of his bad behaviour as if he's responsible for it. It's not fucking fair.

And yeah, maybe he's just tried, and a little cranky, and perhaps he should have just let you leave like you apparently so desperately wanted to—but that's the difference between him and Seokjin.

Jeongguk never wanted you to leave.

The gravity of his questioning is too sharp of a blow even for him. He lets you go. Pulls away from the embrace he's been keeping you safe in.

"I don't lie to you, B," he says, getting to his feet. The closeness he was begging for feels tainted, now. Forced. Uncomfortable. "I tell you everything ."

Everything except the part where I'm in love with you.

"I never said you didn't," you insist quietly, resentful of your brain for turning this into an argument. You don't want to argue with him. Not in the slightest. You don't understand why you are. "Don't go. Please."

"I don't get it," he stresses, his voice quiet, too. "You're pushing me away and yet you still want me close. I don't understand. B, I just... What am I supposed to do?"

The defeat in your sloped shoulders and furrowed brows when you get to your feet and turn to face him is evident. All you can do is shrug.

"Gguk, I'm scared."

He nods. Knows this. Is scared, too.

When you first met, you were both scared of what it could mean to get over your exes.

This is different. Seokjin is a fracture in time; a notch in your bedpost.

Jeongguk is so much more than Seokjin could ever be. Sure, he doesn't have his life figured out yet, and maybe you've both got room to grow—but you can grow with him. Together.

"Okay, so tell me," he encourages. Holds his hand out, and when you take it, he draws you closer. Strokes your arms. Presses a kiss to your forehead. "Tell me what you're scared of."

You're not very good with anatomy. If anyone was to ever ask you about the location of your heart, you're not sure you'd choose the correct side of your chest.

What you are sure of, is that if anyone was to ever peer inside it, the chambers of your heart would be full to the brim with the very essence of him.

They'd hear his laughter echo, and the way his hushed moans vibrate into nothingness. They'd find glitter, and gold; evidence of you and him coexisting just like you're supposed to.

They'd find origami birds, and tiny folded stars, too. Chess pieces and purple starfuckers; lip rings and lace bras hidden beneath pillows. They'd marvel at how such a small organ could be so flooded with evidence of another person—and if they were to see him the way in which you see him, then maybe they'd love him, too.

There's no denying it now.

To him, yes, but not to yourself.

You're in love with Jeon Jeongguk.

And it terrifies you.

"Hmm?" he implores you to open up to him.

"I wasn't supposed to like you this much," you feebly admit, because there's no chance in hell you're baring your soul just like that, but know that you at least have to give him something. Give him the chance to reject you. "But now I do, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He's silent for what feels like a lifetime. In reality, it's maybe three, four seconds. No more than five. Just enough time for him to digest your words. They go above the territorial need of not wanting to share. They're an indication that maybe he isn't totally insane. That maybe he could love someone and be loved in return.

But he's leaping. Knows that there's a far stretch between 'like' and 'love'. A bridge needs to be crossed, and he doesn't know if you're willing to do that.

"Guess it depends," he says, trying to remain calm even if his heart is crashing against his ribs like the waves against the shore in the distance. Wants to kiss you. Thinks it's the only thing that will get his head straight. Swears you must be a fucking drug. He's having withdrawals. Needs you in his system.

"On?"

"Are you happy?"

A simple question without a simple answer.

Yes, you're happy. Happy with your life, with your friends, with your blooming potential within the local gallerist network. Happy when you're with Jeongguk, and happy whenever you think of him, too.

But you're delicate in such a way that happiness feels underserved. As if it will be stolen from you. You're unable to ever fully revel in it for fear of losing it.

Your hesitation is noticed, so Jeongguk meets you halfway. Pulls you close, and wraps his arms around you. Holds you tight. Says, "I think I'm happiest when I'm with you, B."

"You're just saying that," you mumble against his bare chest, and then realise how bloody cold he must be, even if he radiates nothing but warmth. Feel bad for dragging him away from comfort. "Look, let's just go to bed. We're both too tired for this shit. We can talk about it in the morning."

He just nods. Agrees. Follows your lead.

While his body is tired, Jeongguk's mind is not.

When you finally settle into sleep—in his room, this time—he's the one who can't drift off. Just sort of stares at you, and wonders how the fuck something so straightforward is so complicated.

He fails to realise that just because he knows he likes you too doesn't mean you know it.

It's not like he told you. Told you all sorts of lewd shit about your pussy, but never actually told you just how much he adores the way your body rocks a little when you laugh, nor how much he likes the almond-shape that you file your nails into. Has never told you how much he cherishes the fact you challenged him in the way you did on that first Dionysus night. Isn't even sure you remember it.

But he does.

Keeps the memories stored away in his mind where only the fondest of thoughts are allowed to go.

He's never given it much thought, but memories of Hayun go elsewhere. Somewhere between the sections reserved for painful and passive moments. Those sections self-delete the files. It's why he doesn't realise. Doesn't hold onto them.

But he holds on to you when he eventually sleeps.

And when you wake?

Holds you even tighter .

Stretching out a little, you curl back into comfort with him. "Morning."

"Morning, baby."

Oh, god . You're going to die .

He presses a kiss to your head. Hooks his leg over you so that you can't leave.

Yep. Death imminent.

"Sleep okay?" he asks, as if you weren't both outside at ass o'clock debating the very nature of you... 'friendship.'

Surprisingly, you did actually manage to sleep fairly well after it all. Had worn yourself out with all those mental gymnastics of yours.

Adjusting your head to look at him, you hum a confirmation. Spend a moment or so just taking him in.

Eyes shut, his dark lashes splay over the tops of his cheeks. The curves of his face contrast with the harshness of his angles; full cheeks, sharp jaw. Soft lips, hard lip ring. Delicate cupids bow, defined childhood scar along his cheekbone, indented on his freckled skin. A man of complexities, Jeongguk will always confuse you to a certain degree.

"Had a dream about you," he mumbles quietly. Is still half asleep.

"Oh yeah?" You smile, toying with some of his hair.

"Mhmm," he nods, the side of his face rubbing against the soft cotton on the pillowcases. Squeezes you even tighter. God, he loves being with you. "You said you like me."

And suddenly your cheeks flame. You try and squirm away, but he doesn't let you. Just laughs.

Knowing you as intimately as he does, Jeongguk knows you were bullshitting when you said you'd talk about it in the morning. Knows that he has to be the one to mention it, but knows that anything other than jokes about it will make you get all defensive.

"So cute, B," he teases, grip tight around you as you flounder.

"Fuck off!"

"You like me soooo much," he teases, because it's sweet, and it is cute, and it makes him feel all fuzzy inside. The way you're wriggling and trying to get out of his embrace confirms one thing: yes, he would still love you as a worm.

"I like it when you shut up," you scowl, accepting your fate of being trapped in his arms. You kinda hate yourself for admitting it. Kinda feel awful for the fact he's not said it back.

You fail to realise that it's because he's a boy, and is stupid.

But then again, so are you - how could you not know the poor boy is beside himself with giddy excitement over the fact you finally gave him an inclination as to how you feel.

"No," he grins, eyes still closed, arms still tight. "You like me."

"I think you're a tit."

He opens just a single eye. Pulls his head back, and sticks out his bottom lip. "Okay? We both know you like tits"—

" God ."

" Jeongguk , not God, baby," he corrects you. Calls you baby as if there's a ring around your finger and both of your names on a joint lease. "Sex God, yes, but just a mere mortal man unfortunately."

"You're so fuckin' annoying," you grumble—yet when he loosens his grip, your arm slinks around his waist instead.

"Gotta get up," he says. Forces you up with him. Sees your naked body for 0.1 seconds and drags you back to bed with him. Decides, "Breakfast can wait."

Though on a technicality, it could be argued that breakfast is exactly what he has before you eventually surface from his room half an hour later.

Hair half up in a claw clip, one of Jeongguk's shirts french-tucked into your jeans, there's a glow about you as you walk side by side up to the main house. He's talking nonsense about a film you've never seen, and you're just enjoying listening to him. You encourage his enthusiastic points, and promise that you'll watch it and compare notes with him.

By the time you approach the kitchen, everyone else is already there.

"What time do you call this?" Yoongi scolds, but Jeongguk just shrugs. Sort of positions himself in front of you. Reaches behind himself to tuck you a little further out of any judgemental eyes.

"Time you got a watch," Jeongguk deadpans.

Yoongi smiles. Doesn't actually give a shit. Is just teasing. "I've got a watch. It says it's about time you got a new joke."

"Oh, shit," Jeongguk gasps, then reaches into the pocket of his loose-fit jeans. Paired with a white vest and baggy sweatshirt, he's every bit the nineties heartthrob. The chain he always wears is on show, and it drives you a little wild. Rummaging around in his pocket —"I could have sworn I had a new joke in here"— everyone knows what he's gonna do.

They're proven correct when he pulls his hand out of his pocket, his middle finger pointing to the sky.

"You're a child," Namjoon grins.

Jeongguk doesn't deny it. Just beams as he sinks into the sofa, leaving a you-sized space next to him.

You glance over to Danbi, who outstretches her legs to fill the space beside her. Rids you of your options. Smirks in your direction. You're welcome.

Narrowing your eyes in her direction as you take your seat, Jeongguk seemingly abandons all previous restraints he had. Tucks his hand between your legs and holds your knee.

From across the room, Hayun's gaze burns into you.

And yet the soft stroke of Jeongguk's thumb against your legs soothes the scorching arrows she's firing at you.

The rest of the group are embroiled in conversations, the TV also on, so no one notices when you lean over to speak quietly, just loud enough for Jeongguk to hear you.

"Hayun's staring," you tell him, 'cause you've decided that playing it cool has done no one any favours so far.

You're a little bit insane, but Jeongguk already knows this. Likes it. There's no point trying to pretend like you're not just to one-up Hayun. Pretending like you don't care will only serve to hurt you in the long-run.

Jeongguk tilts his head to look at you. Lets a slightly lopsided grin settle on his lips as says, "Well, yeah." His eyes drop to your body, then back up to your lips. Linger for a moment. Finally reach your eyes again. "You look fit as fuck. I'd be staring, too."

"I don't think that's why she's staring."

"Okay," Jeongguk accepts, knowing that even if the conversation is unserious, you've mentioned it for a reason. His hand comes to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear, then clasps your chin and tilts your head upwards. Gets you looking at him with narrowed eyes and a curious smile. His fingers drop to your collar, tweaking it a little, as he says, "I've had this shirt for years. She probably knows it isn't yours."

"Possession is, like, ninety percent of the law," you assure him, a little pouty, and it takes everything in him not to kiss you.

But you're with friends, and shit is still up in the air, and Jeongguk doesn't understand what the fuck is happening between the pair of you. He thinks you're a thing, but, like, he isn't sure and that makes this whole situation so incredibly messy.

What he does know is that Hayun could be screaming blue murder and he wouldn't give a shit. The more he comes to realise how nice it is to be with someone who actually treats him with an ounce of respect, the more he distances himself from his former feelings.

"Sounds like you're trying to exploit a legal loophole," he counters right back.

"So what if I do?" You say, shamelessly flirting in your quiet corner, friends ignorant. Your stomach is full of butterflies, charging around, wings tickling your insides. "Maybe I'll break the law on purpose."

The way you hold your wrists together and present them to Jeongguk—knowing full well he kinda has this weird thing for wrists—is nothing short of cruel.

He knows exactly what you're insinuating. Knows he'd die to get you in a pair of cuffs. Instead, says, "Behave yourself."

It's no use. He's already got a semi.

Hayun is, at least, now in conversation with Taehyung. Something about the interview she had. You're not listening in.

There's also no need for Jeongguk to drag the flirt out. The primary purpose of it was to distract you. Keep your mind on him. Jeongguks secret weapon to ease your mind is to keep you locked on him.

Works every single time.

"You're trouble, B," he smiles fondly, before getting to his feet.

There's no discussion of where he's going—just through to the kitchen. Wants to adjust his trousers, and could also do with some water. You let him go, not really caring to stop him. Autonomy is a wonderful thing.

Instead, you just join in the conversation at hand: A debate over who won the Jilympics, for it was never declared the day before. You come to Seoyeon's defence. Insist your team won. Know full well you didn't.

When Jeongguk returns, you quickly say, "Right Gguk? You agree with me?"

He's got no fuckin' idea what you're on about. Says, "Yeah. Of course. You're right."

The smugness of your smile lets him know what a grave mistake he just made.

"Gguk!" Namjoon groans.

Jimin just smirks. Keeps the taunt of 'pussy-whipped bitch' to himself.

"What?!"

"His word is final," you assert before any clarification can be given. "Power in numbers. More people think our team won"—

"Wait, what?!"

"Shhh, Gguk, I'm doing important business," you hush him—but suddenly your mouth is covered by his palm.

"Don't listen to her!" He wails. "She's a fraud!"

Naturally, the only thing you can do in this situation is bite his finger.

"Ah— shit . Mother fucker!"

"What Jeongguk means to say is Team Seoyeon won," you smile with such nonchalance that your friends can't help but laugh at how ridiculous and petty both you and Jeongguk are.

Match made in heaven, some would say.

When he sits back down, he just sits straight on you. Is deliberately annoying. Not a single person bats an eyelash. It's expected of him. They've known him long enough to know what he's like. In fact, there are only a few laps in the room that haven't been sat on by Jeongguk and his need to be a petulant brat.

Nobody sees—'cause Jeongguk's obscuring you—but you bite him again. Just the shoulder blade. He's sitting in such a position that you can't move your hands, so it's your only real offensive weapon.

It's cute, Jeongguk thinks. Cute that you think you're strong enough to hurt, and cute that you've chosen to bite him. He turns his head over his shoulder. Mumbles, "Careful. I'm into that."

In all honesty, he's passive when it comes to using teeth in the bedroom. Likes a little bite on occasion, but by no means needs it. Just knows that you'll recoil in disgust, and it'll make him laugh.

You do just as he expects.

And like clockwork, he giggles to himself. Slides off your lap, but remains a little sprawled over you, just 'cause he can be.

Again, no one really pays it much notice.

Instead, the morning crawls on by. There's no attempt to hurry it up. In all honesty, the constant activities have worn everyone out.

If Jeongguk and Hoseok hadn't planned such a chill afternoon, then they would have been tempted to cancel it in favour of chucking a movie on the TV.

Much like your birthday—and actually inspired by it—they get everyone crafting. In this case, it's painting. A couple dozen canvases have been purchased, and the rest of the supplies were sneakily stolen from your place of work by Hoseok. You recognise it all—the brushes, the paints, the aprons—and find yourself laughing.

So often watching other people paint, you never really get the chance to do it yourself. It's a shame, considering how much you enjoy it. You're no Picasso, but you're not bad.

The rules are simple for the activity, so much as the fact that there are no rules. Knowing that their activity would fall towards the end of a busy weekend, the boys had settled on something of a little slower pace.

A playlist of chill songs curated by Jeongguk hums from the speaker in the kitchen, the large glass doors open, turning the lawn and house into a hybrid space. The supplies are kept inside, but you all opt to paint outside.

Laying flat on your tummy, you're painting the view ahead of you. It's all shades of blue and little else, an uninterrupted horizon that extends for miles upon miles.

In a small cluster with Danbi and Hoseok, it's nice to be with your people.

Yoongi and Seoyeon are in their own little world, doing portraits of one another, and Taehyung has roped the rest of the boys into posing for him in human pyramid formation. Jeongguk and Namjoon are stable as the bottom pillars, with Jimin taking the top spot.

You're not really sure what Nabi and Hayun are doing. Choose not to glance their way. It's a shame, because you really do like Nabi.

The awkwardness is beginning to grate on you. All you want is an easy life.

Regardless of the current state of affairs, once upon a time, Hayun had been liked by everyone here. She was a fundamental part of the friendship group. It sort of makes you think that maybe you should make an effort with her.

Not in some lame-ass attempt to be a 'cool' girl. You've already decided that you don't care to be one. Moreso as a white flag. You intend on sticking around, and so you're gonna have to learn to live with one another.

"I'm not saying I want to be besties with her," you tell Danbi. "But it wouldn't hurt to at least try and find some common ground, would it?"

Danbi mulls it over. Isn't so sure. Doesn't really think you should have to make an effort at all.

"Look, I won't lie," you add on when Danbi doesn't respond quickly enough. "She irritates me, but what else am I supposed to do? Can't go through life acting as if she doesn't exist."

"You can," Danbi assures you. "I would."

As much as you know this to be absolutely true, you're just not wired in the same way as Danbi.

The very first night you met Hayun, you were unable to keep your cool. Argued with her over the dumbest shit just because you were so incensed that she had the audacity to question your presence in Jeongguk's life.

Things are different, now.

You're secure in your place. He's made it that way. Made it clear that he puts you above Hayun.

He's trying.

It's only fair that you try, too.

When Jeongguk finally comes to join you, also laying flat on his tummy, but opposite you on the other side of your canvas, you choose against raising the topic. Decide not to tarnish the simplicity of him choosing to be with you now with any negative thoughts.

Not looking at him as you mumble nonsense about nothing, you continue to add hues of blue to the canvas, and don't object when he picks up a thin brush and starts to add pretty little stars in your sky.

Painting has always been a group activity for the pair of you. He can put it in the living room next to your tits.

The afternoon dissolves into an easy state of being. Mindless chatter is paired with the act of quite literally watching paint dry, but no one finds it boring. Respite had been needed, and you're quietly smitten with the fact that Jeongguk is one of the masterminds behind it. So big brain of him. So sexy.

Lazing next to you, paint smeared on his cheeks by your messy fingers earlier that afternoon, Jeongguk really can't be bothered to shower before dinner. Moans and groans, until you say you'll shower with him.

He's up and on his feet, holding a towel by his door within no time at all.

"Chop chop," he tells you, pretty face ever so pleasant. Eyes wide and round, there's something about him—hair dishevelled, skin covered in paint—that just takes you back to the early days. Gets you grinning from ear to ear.

Holding out his hand as you stand, Jeongguk pulls you closer. Presses a teeny tiny kiss to your lips, 'cause he can't ever seem to stop now that the boundary has been broken down.

"We're a mess," you smile against his lips.

Literally and figuratively.

And as you step out of his room, hand in hand with lovesick smiles on your lips, only to find Nabi and Hayun doing their makeup for the evening ahead in the communal sitting room, you realise things are about to get a whole lot messier.

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