#-that's like a week's worth of work to go through and tag everyone

[planetaryupscaled]

Three Times is Perfect

Male Reader x Haerin x Minji

Tags: 7k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw

The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

“Are you ready for me? I hope you’re saving up for when I see you tomorrow 😘”

Minji attached a video. It was taken right before we were going to be separated for months. The video started on her face, scrunched up in pleasure, then scanned down her chest to her perky tits that were crowned by stiff nipples. The video kept going down, showing her taut, flat stomach and the perfectly smooth shaved pussy.

Further down, I could see her pussy lips welcoming my cock over and over again accompanied by a wet sound.

Behind the camera, I could hear myself saying in a low, gruff voice, “Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.”

“Just cum inside me,” Minji moaned. “Cum in me...”

The video shows me bottoming her out as far as possible, before emptying a week’s worth of cum into her pussy. Minji moaned off-camera as I pulled my cock from her grasping pussy, allowing the cum to spill out of her, it’s overflowing. I paused the video.

“Come on,” I typed back.

“That is not fair. You’re making it difficult for me to stick to our agreement.”

I must admit that quitting masturbation for weeks was more difficult than I expected. But the girlfriend was going to be out of town for that whole time, and I’d agreed to save it for her. Knowing the pent up passion will make my first time fucking her in weeks even better.

Our junior year of college ended three weeks ago, so our entire group of friends decided to take a vacation at Yejun’s family’s home in Jeju before starting our summer jobs, and Minji needed to visit family, so she was only coming for the last leg of the trip.

“Only 16 more hours,” Minji texted back. “I get in late tonight.”

“Wake me up when you do,” I replied.

“I’ve got a few ideas.” She attached another picture, this time of herself with two fingers buried inside her wet pussy.

“Too much teasing and it’s only 9 a.m. - I’m blocking you” I joked, before hearing a knock at the door.

“One sec.” I called out, before texting Minji: “Have to go, big day of hiking ahead.” I put my phone down, then yelled to the door “Come in!”

Haerin stepped through the door, looking alert and chipper in athletic attire. She took in the room, frowning.

“We’ve only been here one night and your room already look like garbage dump.”

Kang Haerin. My childhood friend grew up two houses from me. We both went to the same college, which was several states away from our hometown, and we remained good friends. However, I can’t say no one asked about me and Haerin, since we’re really that close.

She was undeniably beautiful. I wonder how she can be her while I’m just… me? God really has a favorite.

Though many of our friends say that Haerin has a cat-like personality. That’s right, ‘a cat’ as in small domestic animals covered with fur. See, I'm not sure where they got that idea.

Watching her grew into a stunning, willowy woman with a shapely ass and breasts that were on the smaller side but perfectly fit her short frame. I knew she was beautiful, but our relationship was never particularly romantic, which suited us perfectly. We worked too well as friends to risk anything. Besides, she had been the one to introduce me to Minji, and Haerin was dating Yejun.

“You know how I feel about putting clothes in drawers while on vacation. Besides, you don’t have to share my room,” I said.

I stealthily tucked my erection into my waistband and stood up, brushing past her to grab one of the shirts from the ground to put it on.

“You’re horrible,” Haerin said with a laugh. “Anyway, I was just coming to rouse you for breakfast. Everyone else is done eating.”

“Should I pack a hat?”

“I don’t know. Yejun said there was a chance of rain. Can I check the weather from your phone?”

“Sure.”

Haerin picked up my phone, then let out a yelp and dropped it. She blushed furiously “Waaaa, Sorry, Sorry!”

“What?” I crossed to the bed and picked up my phone. Minji had texted one last picture, this one a closeup of us having sex. The caption read: “Don’t tire yourself out too much.” Haerin had picked up my phone only to get an eyeful of my cock stretching out her friend’s pussy.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be up on my phone,” I said, embarrassed. “Minji’s been... sending me stuff in preparation for her arrival tonight.”

“Oh, yeah- no, I get it.” Haerin blushed even deeper, then paused. “I- I only looked for a second, so I barely saw anything.”

“No, of course.” I said.

She looked more flustered than I had seen her in a long time. Neither of us knew what to say.

“I- I’ll just check the weather on my phone,” Haerin said, rushing out of my room.

Given that she was dating Yejun, I assumed she had overcome her embarrassment and shame about sex, but she was still fairly innocent. However, she had just been surprised with a close-up photo of her two friends having sex, so who wouldn’t be embarrassed?

—

Despite the late start, a few cups of black coffee jolted me awake for the hike. Our other friends were experienced hikers who were glad to drag us along at their rapid pace, up trails with pine needles that covered treacherous rocks and roots. I spent the majority of the hike watching where I put my foot, expecting to twist my ankle at any second. When I did hike without my eyes glued to the ground, I found them drawn up perfect, toned, slender legs to Haerin’s ass in her tight athletic shorts. She was walking ahead of me, holding hands with Yejun.

I shake my head. Clearly, a combination of Minji’s teasing and the sexual frustration of the last few weeks had transformed me into a dog, slobbering over anything with the slightest female form.

We stopped for water at a clearing that looked out over the miles of trees below us. As I drank from my water bottle, Yejun pulled me aside.

“Can I ask you something? It’s about Haerin.”

“What’s up?” I thought Haerin had told him about the picture she’d seen of Minji and me and I was ready to apologize.

“Haerin and I have been dating for like eight months now, and...” he paused, a little awkward. “I know this is weird, since you guys have been friends forever, but I’m just gonna say it: I kinda thought we’d be doing more, sexually, by now. All we’ve done is dry humping, nothing below the clothes.”

Hearing that was surprising, but not completely unexpected. I don’t know how that made me feel. Part of me was bummed for my friends that they were missing out on all the great things sex had to offer, but another part of me, one I didn’t realize was there, felt a flash of... something. Not surprise, but maybe lust. I tried to kept my face straight as he went on.

“She’s said she’s waiting to actually have sex, which I totally understand, but do you think she’d want to do anything more than just make out and dry hump? Not just for me. I’d like to make her... finish, you know.”

“I haven’t talked with her about it, it’s not the sort of thing we discuss.” I said, truthfully.

“Do you know if she’s ever gone further than that with her previous boyfriends?” He asked.

“What previous boyfriends?”

Haerin had never dated anyone seriously before Yejun. Hell, the only reason I knew she was straight in high school was that she’d talk about having crushes on boys, but when I’d tell her to do something, she’d refuse.

“If I were you, I’d just let her lead the way. She does what she wants, but not before she’s ready.” I added.

On the way back down the mountain I watched Haerin with more curiosity. It certainly explained her reaction to the picture - she was totally inexperienced, so maybe it was more disgust at what she had seen. I felt bad for just leaving my phone open. I knew her well enough to know her reaction wouldn’t be one of judgment, but it had to make her uncomfortable. I resolved to apologize when I got the chance.

By the end of the hike, we were all soaked in sweat. Haerin pulled up her shirt to mop her flushed face, I could make out the tender curve of her breasts beneath her sports bra… I felt another pang somewhere in my stomach…surprisingly hard nipples. When she lowered the shirt she was looking right at me. I looked away, a little too late.

Damn, I thought, cursing the fact that Minji wouldn’t return for another eight or nine hours. I just needed to stop myself from getting horny for long enough not to do something stupid.

—

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed,” Yejun said, getting up. It was late at night and we’d put on a movie after the night of drinking had wound down. Just about everybody had drifted off from the movie and gone to sleep, save for me, Yejun, and Haerin, who’d seen it through to the end. We were all tired, dressed for bed.

“I’ll be right there,” Haerin said, as Yejun wandered off groggily. Then she turned to me, a small smile on her lips. “T minus two hours until Minji gets here. Are you excited?”

“Of course. I miss her a lot.”

“I mean, are you... excited?” Haerin said, gesturing down at my crotch.

“Hahaha,” I said sarcastically.

Haerin sat in a comfortable recliner across from me, her legs crossed under her. Without realizing it, my eyes drifted down her pajama-clad form and I saw with a start that she wasn’t wearing panties under her loose pajama shorts. I could make out a small dark bush and the tight cleft at the top of what seemed to be her beautiful innie pussy. Of course she wasn’t shaven, I thought, my cock beginning to thicken. She’d never even had sex.

“I guess she hasn’t been too far away, considering all those pictures,” Haerin said.

She shifted on the chair. I got an even better view of her small bush, and through it, her neat pussy lips.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t have to see that.” I tore my eyes away from the faint glimpse of her pussy.

“No, I liked it,” Haerin said. “The wifi’s terrible out here, so my porn has been taking forever to load. Easier to just get it off from the two of you.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I joked.

“Is there?”

I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was bluffing. We’d both had a lot to drink, but the several hours of the movie had sobered us up. She didn’t usually speak this brazenly.

“Yeah. Videos, too.”

Haerin’s face was now as flushed as mine, is she’s serious?

“Can I see it?”

“Should I airdrop them?”

Haerin stood up and walked across the room to mine. My heart started to beat fast. I couldn’t stand up, because I was so hard.

“Show me.”

I opened my phone, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I pulled up the picture she’d seen, the close-up of Minji’s pussy with my bare cock drilling into it.

“Really?” I asked.

Haerin nodded. She leaned down, and I caught the soft curve of her small breast down her sleep shirt. I hesitated, then thought, Fuck it. I turned the phone to her.

“I’ve already seen this one,” she whispered, sending a shiver up my spine. This was bad. I was too horny. I should lock my phone and get out of here. I swiped to the next one -- the video of me and Minji, paused with the cum trickling out of her pussy, her tits and face in the shot.

“Where are you?”

I rewound the video. The only sound in the room was the slick squishing noise of me and Minji fucking, then her moaning. Haerin’s mouth was half-open as she watched.

“Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.” At that, I quickly paused the video, returning to my senses. This was too much. Too personal. Minji wouldn’t want me showing intimate videos of us to one of our best friends. And did I really want Haerin to see my dick? I was more drunk than I thought. And so was she, if she allowed it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t show you that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Haerin muttered. “It’s… hot. I have a thing for small dicks.”

I looked up at her. She was grinning. We both burst into laughter.

“Oh, you…” I said, leaping up to grab her. She shrieked and tried to make an escape, but I grabbed her and tackled her, tickling her, onto the couch. We were both laughing. Only when I paused for breath did I realize what a bad idea that had been. I was still completely hard, and was only wearing my boxers.

From beneath me, Haerin tickled me back, and I grabbed her arms, trying to keep her from tickling me.

The rest of it happened fast. I was on top of her, hard, and somewhere in the maneuvering, my cock must have slipped out of the hole in my boxers. I knew that reaching down to fix the situation would immediately make it clear to her what had happened, so I tried to keep her pinned, unable to look down. That was my undoing -- Haerin spread her legs, trying to get them around me for some reason.

All of a sudden, as she did, I felt my cock press up through the leg of her baggy shorts, against her mound. She gasped in surprise, moving her lower body back, but all that did was make my cock slip down, nestling into the hot wetness between her pussy lips. It happened so fast I didn’t even think about the fact that she was dripping wet.

“Is that your…” Haerin started to ask, trying to reposition herself.

Then I felt my cockhead slipped inside her opening. We both froze. I looked down. Her pussy lips were stretched around my cock. I didn’t even have time to think about how amazing her pussy looked -- how long I’d wondered what it would look like, what she’d feel like. Though I was only a few inches into her, it was almost too much for me.

“Y- You’re... inside me.” Her voice quavered.

It happened in such slow motion that the freeze-frame image of Haerin below me, looking down in open-mouth surprise at her shorts pulled to the side, her wet pussy clenching my bare cock is imprinted on my mind, though the moment only lasted a second or two.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to...”

“No… I- I wasn’t wearing panties, it’s my...” She trailed off, her breath ragged.

The moment felt like a dream. Neither of us was moving to pull apart. My cock throbbed inside her, and she gasped as I felt her pussy clench. She was getting wetter, somehow. Involuntarily, I pushed an inch further into her, my cock moving on its own to bury itself as deep into her scalding hot pussy as it could.

“Wait…” she said, her voice soft and strained.

“Don’t-” Then she was cut off by a gasp. Her body shuddered, and her legs which still around my back, pushed me deeper into her. I bottomed her out, God her pussy is sooo tight.

Haerin was small, but she could take my whole length buried snugly inside her. Then she came, hard, trying to stifle her own moans while her pussy clenched around my cock.

“Anhh- fuck I’m…cumming...” Haerin whimpered.

Her body jerked, and she wrapped her arms around mine, pushing our bodies together. Her pussy felt too tight. I wasn’t going to last, especially after three weeks of no sex or masturbation. I was bare inside of her, I couldn’t cum in her. With the last ounce of my willpower, I tried to pull out.

“Haerin, I’m gonna…”

I only made it halfway. Haerin, who was still shuddering in orgasm, firmly pulled me back into her. That feeling of sliding my entire length back into her tight pussy was the end of it. I felt my cock swelling up, before I came hard, deep inside her.

As my cock jerked, shooting cum against the back walls of her pussy, her eyes snapped open. She could feel my warmth splashing into her.

“No, no, I’m not…oohhh…”

She writhed in orgasm again, while I emptied weeks’ worth of cum into her. Any thought of trying to pull out was forgotten. All I wanted to do was bury into her and fill her up. I came and came. Each jerk of my cock within her drew another small moan from her. Her pussy squeezed my cock tighter than any I had ever experienced.

“Oh my god....” she moaned softly.

I slumped down on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck. We stayed like that for a while, until the last jerks of my cock and the last of her small shudders subsided, indicating that we’d ridden out our climaxes.

I lifted my head to look at her. She was beautiful- wide brown eyes, cheeks flushed, her hair a mess on her sweaty forehead. Through her white sleep shirt, I could see the outlines of her areolae and the tiny tents of her nipples. We looked at each other for quite a while, faces close together, then she shook her head in wonder.

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

Haerin looked down on our connection, where my cock was still buried inside her. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed love juice, dripping and creaming around my cock.

“You cum inside me…” she said, quietly.

“I- I’m so sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I stopped you from pulling out. I... I’ve never cum that hard before. It was… really good, I didn’t want it to end.”

“Me neither,” I said, and she let out a small laugh. As she did, her pussy squeezed me, milking another drop of cum from me.

I breathed out and lifted myself up, pulling my cock out of Haerin with a soft squishing noise. My cum dripped out from between her legs, and she reached down to catch it with her fingers. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you always... cum this much? How does Minji take it all?”

The mere mention of Minji twisted my insides. “Oh, god…”

“Don’t feel bad. It was an accident.” Haerin was still on her back, legs spread, looking up at me, making no effort whatsoever to conceal her small, hairy, freshly fucked pussy. It was a beautiful sight.

“Yeah, An accident.” I said.

“No need to explain to either Minji or Yejun why you took your best friend’s virginity and pumped her pussy full of cum, especially when it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Oh fuck- Haerin, I…” In the rush of sensations, I had completely forgotten that I had taken her virginity.

She finally stood, barely reaching my collarbone. I couldn’t read her expression. Then she just pulled off her shirt, revealing her beautiful round, petite breasts that sat high on her chest, with brown nipples that looked perfect on her small tits. She slid her shorts down, revealing her pussy in all its glory. A line of cum is dripping down her legs.

“I’m going to need to shower.” She looked dead serious.

I couldn’t tell if she was angry, confused, sad, or… I was horrified to think I’d just ruined one of my longest friendships.

“Haerin, I…”

“Come join me.”

She took a step toward me and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. In my dazed state, I hadn’t tucked my cock back into my boxers, and it was pressing into her mound. I was still wet from our combined juices. Haerin looked up at me. Tentatively as if we hadn’t just fucked, I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips met in a spark of passion, we kissed with an open mouth as our tongues probing hungrily for each other, And as if it had been forever. Finally, we broke apart.

“Losing virginity to your best friend, that was the best way to lose my virginity I could have ever asked for.”

Haerin took my hand and led us to the bathroom before locking the door behind us.

“Never know when Yejun will be back,” she said softly.

Haerin turned on the shower. Undressing myself as I watched her outline in the mirror, her incredible ass, tight and perfect for her frame, and that pristine lips between her legs. She shivered after splashing water on her breasts to test their warmth.

“This place takes forever to turn on the hot water,” Haerin said.

I was zooning out, naked, half-hard, staring at her. “What?”

“Oh- just trying to figure out where we’re going from here.” I added.

“Don’t overthinking it. We will always love each other. One accident won’t change that. Besides, there’s something poetic about losing your virginity to the same person you had your first kiss with. Someone you can really trust.”

As she spoke, she stood close to me in this small bathroom. It was surreal having this conversation with your best friend, not to mention that both of us naked, having just fucked, cum still dripping out of her pussy. I started to get hard again, cursing myself for being this horny.

“Wow,” she said, looking down at my crotch.

“Already? You are insatiable.”

“I’ve just been wondering how you look naked, and here you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

Haerin grabbed my cock with her slender hand.

“Why do you think I wanted to shower with you?”

She got down on her knees, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and her small mouth half-open. Slowly but surely, she reached out her tongue to lick my tip. A strand of our mixed juice trailed from her tongue.

“Haerin…”

“I’ve never given a blowjob, either,” she said thoughtfully, working her hands up and down my shaft. She circled the tip with her tongue.

“I assumed it would happen before I had sex. I definitely didn’t think I’d be licking my own cum off a cock that had just finished inside me,” she said.

She parted her lips and enveloped my cock in the warm wetness of her mouth. She bobbed up and down on my shaft several times, cleaning her pussy juices and mine off with her tongue. Then she pulled back, looking up at me while continued to jerk my cock.

“I can’t tell if this is you or me, but wow, we taste really good together.”

Before I could answer, she closed her lips around me again, gradually finding a rhythm as she sucked me. I stroked her hair, looking down at the beautiful sight before me, Haerin’s hair is a mess, sucking her best friend cock, her nipples protruded proudly from her pert breast. Her mouth felt almost as amazing as her pussy, and I soon found myself swelling with anticipation. She clearly felt it too as she took me out of her mouth and asked…

“Would you rather cum in my mouth or in my pussy?”

It was strange to hear her, the innocent, sweet, nerdy Haerin, talk like this.

“I didn’t realize you liked talking dirty.”

“You know me,” she said, smiling. “I’m a detail-oriented person.” She continued on sucking, demonstrating a surprising skill despite the fact that it’s her first time giving a blowjob.

She looked up at me and repeated her question.

“So, in my mouth or in my pussy?”

“Honestly I want to do both, but you know me, always indecisive… and God… it’s hard to think with your mouth is on me.”

Haerin stood up as the bathroom started to steam up.

“Think the water’s warm enough?” She asked, grinning.

She pulled me into the shower and our bodies intertwined under the water. I grabbed and kissed her hungrily, working my hands down her breasts, to her side, to her tight ass, pulling her close to me and pressing my cock against her. She lifted her leg onto the side of the bathtub, spreading herself to me. I got down on my knees and pressed my lips against her slit. She moaned in pleasure, but she turned my head, forcing me to look up at her.

“You don’t have to. I… I haven’t shaved.”

“I don’t care about that. Besides, Minji isn’t either.”

“Yeah,” Haerin said, inhaling as I planted a kiss on her nether lips. “I’ve seen the evidence…anhhh” Small moan escapes her lips.

“I want to taste you…”

That was the last word I said before I sank my tongue into her folds, working my way up to her clit and then back down, slowly. I slid a finger into her, pumping slowly in and out as I sucked and licked her clit. I’ve always loved the taste of pussy, and Haerin’s was no exception. As I finger-fucked her, I switched the up and down motion with my tongue to a circular motion, right on her clit.

“Enhhh god, please… just like that,” she whimpered.

“You’re gonna make me cum again... ahhh”

I kept up exactly like that, furiously tonguing her clit and driving my finger in and out of her. Her breath became heavier, and she pushed herself towards me, grinding hard against my mouth. I savored the taste of her tangy opening as she approached her second orgasm of the day.

Finally, with a great heaving sigh and a jerk of her body, she came. While her first orgasms had been hard and all-consuming, but relatively short, this one lasted longer, crashing like a slow wave. I held my mouth to her pussy and continued what I was doing until she stopped thrashing. She lifted me up and kissed me passionately.

“So, what do I taste like?” She asked smilingly.

“Hmm, you taste really good Haerin”

“Have you ever tried lemon zest?” I added.

“Mmm”

“You taste just like that,” I said, grinning.

She stood there for a moment, thinking about what I had just said, then she slapped my hand playfully, and we both burst out laughing.

I kissed her again, silencing her protest. She felt my cock nuzzled at her opening. She reached down and pump it up and down, stroking it up and down in a slow motion, we broke our embrace and she looked up at me. Water cascading down her breasts and dripping off her nipples.

“You didn’t cum in my mouth, and it seems that your dick made the choice for you. In my pussy it is.”

“Haerin. Once is an accident, twice is a choice,”

“Just for tonight, kay? I need you in me.” She said softly.

I slowly began to push in through her tight pussy lips, a thought crossed my mind and I looked at her.

“You’re not on birth control, are you?” She shook her head, kissing me again and spread her legs wider so I could go deeper into her. And deeper it went, I began to push deeper, faster, and harder over and over again as her pussy stretching to accommodate its intruder.

“I could have sworn you got bigger just now,” she whispered, a small moan escapes her lips with every thrust.

“Maybe I like cumming inside you without protection.”

“Ehm yeah? maybe I like that, too… Ahh”

I looked down at our connection, how her perfect lips split open by my grith. She was so unbelievably silky and wet, the perfect pussy that I would ravage forever if I had the chance. And I was bare inside her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her pussy or her petite breasts, barely moving as I bottomed out in her again and again.

“Can I ask you something?” she panted between strokes.

“What?”

“Who... who feels better? Who do you like fucking more? Me or Minji?”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “Look who I’m inside of right now.”

Talking about Minji while fucking Haerin emphasized the forbidden feeling of it all. I could feel another orgasm rushing on, so I closed my eyes and tried to delay it.

“But if you had to say. And you can be honest.” She said.

“When I fuck Minji,” I said, slowing down my frantic thrusting.

“It’s amazing. She has the most incredible body, experienced, and knows exactly what to do to get me to cum. Sometimes I just enjoy burying myself in her pussy and feeling all of her around me”

“God, Haerin, you are so tight…” I stopped, holding my throbbing cock as far into her as it would go. Her eyes were mostly closed, savoring the feeling.

“Sometimes when I finish in her, she’ll reach down and taste me. Which just gets me going again. I have filled her up every different way. Just about every time you’ve seen her, she’s been full of me.” Haerin moaned at this, clenching me inside her.

“But you… it’s a whole different thing, fuck…” I growled.

I started to build up the pace, gripping her tighter as I pound her faster. Haerin wanted to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

We froze.

“Haerin? Are you in there?”

It was Yejun. He sounded tired. Haerin looked at me, unsure what to do.

“Nghh…yeah,” she called out. “I’m almost done.”

“Why are you showering this late?”

I could hear the wet squelch of her pussy even over the rushing water of the shower as I slid my cock in and out of her. She struggled to maintain her voice even as she responded.

“I- I was feeling… a little dirty…mmhh”

“Are you okay babe?” Yejun asked.

“Hmm… yeah… I- I just need a moment- nghh…”

I couldn’t hold out much longer. I whispered in her ear as I thrust into her “I’m going to cum.”

“Don’t cum too much,” Haerin warned in a low voice, pausing to gasp as I bottomed out in her. “You’re still going to need some for Minji tonight.”

“I’d rather use it all up in you.”

“Alright, I’m going to sleep,” Yejun said from outside.

He had no idea I was fucking his girlfriend for the second time ever, readying to burst my cum into her unprotected pussy, again. Haerin maintained eye contact with me as I sank deeper into her.

“I’ll come soon,” Haerin shouted to him, in a voice that I was sure sounded like she was being fucked. I looked down at her naked body, taking in the sight of her pink ravaged pussy and her firm tits, my thrusts increasing in intensity.

“Haerin…” That was all I could groan out before I pulled her tightly as I buried my cock as deep as it could go into her and burst my second load, painting her wall white as far as it could reach. I’m sure her womb is full of those small tadpoles by now.

Last time had been incredible for its novelty, but it had all happened so fast that I didn’t take it all in. This time, I looked down at her, eyes wide open in pleasure as she felt the warm of cum quickly filling her up. I pulled out halfway and pushed in again, watching, satisfied, as a glob of cum was pushed out around my cock, painting her lips white.

Haerin held me hard, flinching as she came down from her orgasm, while I fucked my last drops of cum into her. I was as far up her pussy as I could go and there was nothing between us. I looked down at her cum-filled pussy split open as I pulled out. Cum poured out of her and onto the floor of the shower.

She inserted two fingers into herself and pulled them out, covered in cum. She brought her fingers to her mouth and let me watch as she licked them clean.

“Better than Minji?” She asked with a low voice. In response, I leaned in to kiss her, our two tastes mingling as our lips met.

We toweled off quickly and went our separate ways after one last kiss. The last thing I thought before falling asleep was “I hope we did a good enough job washing each other off and -- out of ourselves.

—

I woke up the next morning, groggily taking in my surroundings, it was sunny in my room. Minji’s bag was on the desk. I realized Minji must have gotten in and not woke me up, or worse, she’d tried to wake me up and I’d been too tired. Then I felt a warm, wet mouth wrap around my cock, which was rapidly hardening. I Recognize Minji’s incredible lips as she looked up at me, smiling around my cock.

“Good morning!” She was topless, her breasts hanging down enticingly.

“I’m so sorry, I was really sleepy last night” I said.

Minji ran her tongue up the length of my cock, slowly and thoughtfully. “You know you talk in your sleep, right?”

“What?” I asked.

“Well, usually you don’t, but you must have been very tired.” She punctuated her sentences with slow licks on my cock. “See, when I came in and got naked and tried to wake you up, you said the darnedest thing.”

Minji buried my cock in her mouth, deepthroating me until her nose was pressed against my pubic bone before pulling back out, lines of spit connecting her mouth to my shaft. I looked down at her, puzzled.

“Right around the time I got you into my mouth, you looked at me and said, A third time in one night.” As she said that, my stomach clenched

She climbed up the bed, angling my cock in between her folds. “I didn’t know what that meant, but then you said, If we keep this up, Haerin, I’ll have no cum left for Minji.” She sat down on my still-wet cock, letting me bury myself into her velvety pussy.

“At first, I thought it might just be a wet dream. But then I tasted your cock and wouldn’t you know it, I could swear you tasted... different.” She lifted off of me, angling my cock into her for maximum tightness, then slowly inched back down. My head was filled with competing emotions; I was turned on, guilty, horrified, and excited all at once.

“Minji…”

“Did you fuck Haerin?”

I didn’t know what to do or say, besides… “I’m sorry...”

She sped up on top of me, working my cock inside her as only she knew how. “I thought she was a virgin.”

“She... she was. The first time was an accident,” I regretted and cursed myself. After these words left my mouth. Why the hell did I have to say ‘the first time?’

“The first time was an accident huh...and the second?”

“It was- less of an accident…” This was crazy. What was going one? She didn’t seem to be mad, asking the questions in a matter-of-fact tone, as if we were having a simple conversation while I was fucking her.

“I’m guessing you didn’t wear a condom based on the taste she left on you.” I shook my head slowly. “Lucky her. She loses her virginity by having raw sex with her best friend. Did you cum inside her?”

I nodded. My cock throbbed inside Minji, edging closer to orgasm. We both felt it. She kept her pace, sliding her perfect pussy up and down my cock.

“She got three weeks’ worth of your cum. Was her pussy... overflowing?” she asked, again.

All I could do was nod, getting closer to my own orgasm, what the hell with all these questions anyway?

“Are you thinking about it right now? Picturing how she looked?”

“It’s- hard not to, when you asking about it… nghh fuck Minji”

“Are you gonna cum in me while thinking about Haerin?

In response, I pushed all the way into Minji and emptied the cum I had left up her pulsing canal. She moaned louder, grinding her clit hard against mine, and she cummed too. I held Minji close as my cock emptying itself inside her.

I noticed a movement near the door.

Haerin stood in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the spot where Minji and I were joined: Minji on top in a cowgirl position, legs spread, my cock splitting her open with her ass facing the door. Haerin could see our connection where I was bottoming out deep insider her friend.

Minji saw where I was looking and turned around to see Haerin. Haerin flushed and backed away from the doorway, but Minji called out to her, “You can come in.” After a brief moment, Haerin’s head reappeared, beet-red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Mean to what?” Minji cut her off.

I was still hard inside Minji and I could feel drops of our cum running down creaming my shaft. Haerin tried hard not to look at it, but failed, miserably.

“You didn’t mean to watch, or you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and take all his cum like a little slut?”

Haerin said nothing, mortified. I didn’t know what to say, either. Minji beckoned Haerin over to the bed, and she came hesitantly. She was wearing the same sleep shirt as last night, and her stiff nipples were clearly visible through it, maybe aroused by this all.

“Did you like watching us?” Minji asked and Haerin just nodded.

“Say it.”

“I liked watching,” Haerin said timidly.

“You liked watching what?”

Haerin swallowed nervously. “All of it. I liked... watching you... suck him off. I liked watching your pussy being pounded by him. I liked- watching… his cumming inside you.”

I was surprised to hear Haerin say that. The submissive side of her had taken over.

“Come here, you little slut.” Minji commanded.

Haerin got onto the bed, following her order. “Now I want you to taste our connection.” Haerin looked confused, so Minji clarified “Taste the place where he’s entering me.”

I was still rock-hard between Minji's lips. Haerin slid between my legs, looking directly at Minji's supple, round ass cheeks and her trimmed pussy around my cock. She tentatively reach oud her tongue to the underside of my cock. Slowly, she ran it up my shaft, gathering cum and Minji's cream on her tongue before reaching Minji's stretched pussy lips. She licked them up and around my cock, allowing me to feel her tongue on every pass. Minji breathed out slowly, clearly enjoying it.

“Now I want you to take him out of me and clean him off,” Minji said.

Haerin slowly reached out to grab my cock, which was slick with Minji's juices and my cum, and withdrew it from Minji with a soft squish. More of cum dripped on my cock. Haerin opened her mouth and leaned down take me in her mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” Minji said. “Keep it in your mouth.”

Haerin bobbed her head up and down, deliberately licking and sucking the wetness off my cock. Directly in front of her nose was Minji’s opening with cum dripping out slowly.

“Now put your mouth on my pussy and put it back in me.”

Haerin couldn’t reply, her mouth full, she looked hesitant. Minji rolled over, spreading her legs in front of Haerin.

“Haven’t you gotten enough of it? Put his cum back inside me.”

I was certain Haerin wouldn’t do it. Fucking me was one thing, eating Minji’s pussy was another. Would this new, submissive Haerin go for it? Still, she was holding the excess cum in her mouth, not swallowing it. She looked caught.

Minji absentmindedly rubbed her clit while waiting. Then, to my surprise, Haerin darted her mouth toward Minji's pussy, pressing her lips against it and reaching out her tongue to let the cum in her mouth dribble back into Minji's waiting hole. Minji moaned in pleasure.

“Keep going... make sure you get it all in...”

Haerin used her tongue to push the cum that had dribbled out of Minji’s pussy back in. She began to fuck Minji with her tongue, in and out of her sopping hole, tasting my cum every time she reached deeper into Minji. Minji closed her eyes, rubbing her nipples with one hand and using the other to press Haerin’s face into her womanhood.

I was rock hard again. Haerin was eating the cum out of Minji’s pussy, or, I guess, putting it back in. Was this a dream?

Minji writhed on the bed as Haerin continued lapping at her, bringing her tongue from the bottom of her pussy, where the cum had pooled, to the top, hungrily licking her clit. Minji gasped, her body rocked with waves of orgasm, and still Haerin kept going. I had never seen Minji orgasm from this angle, normally I was part of the process, and it was hot to see her body constrict in pleasure, tits bouncing, eyes screwed shut. It was even hotter watching Haerin eat her out.

Finally, Minji pulled Haerin's face away from her, which was wet with spit and our mixed juices. Both girls were panting.

“Have you ever gone down on a girl before?” Minji asked. Haerin shook her head, wiping off her mouth. She looked dazed but horny. “You’re good at it.”

Minji looked over at me, at my cock, which was standing upright. “And after all that, he’s still ready.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” was all I could manage to say.

Minji sat up and pushed Haerin down onto the bed, on her back. Under the sleep shirt, Haerin was wearing a pair of grey panties that were fully soaked through. Minji pulled the panties down, revealing Haerin’s wet, drenched pussy. As Haerin spread her legs, I watched her pussy lips come unglued from each other, revealing pink folds inside.

Minji reached down, into her own pussy, scooping my cum onto her fingers. She reached over and sank those fingers into Haerin’s. She moaned, writhing on the bed.

“You don’t need the extra lubrication,” Minji said, reaching down to spread her wetness over my cock. “But it’ll get you started.”

Minji pulled my cock to Haerin’s opening. I adjusted myself on the bed, getting up so I was supporting myself over Haerin. Minji slowly rubbed my tip up and down Haerin’s sopping lips, before putting me between them. Haerin cooed in pleasure.

“Show me how you fucked her.”

As I sank into Haerin for the third time, I looked over at Minji. My girlfriend was watching with rapt attention as I bottomed out in Haerin’s pussy. Then I looked at Haerin, who stared up at me with wide eyes. My longtime best friend, the girl I adored, was open beneath me.

“Fill me up again,” Haerin whispered.

“Once is an accident, twice is a choice, but three times?” I asked.

“Three times is perfect.”

[koenigami]

➵ WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis : sometimes all it takes is a little push from a little melusine wc : 1,3k tags : fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader and wrio had an argument

“He’s in a bad mood.” “Did something happen?” “Was it an inmate?” “She left the fortress in a haste.” “Someone heard them arguing. She looked hysterical.” “Oh-oh. A fight?” “Shit, not again.”

The respect that Wriothesley earns himself stems from different kinds of people and different kinds of emotions. Some of them look up to him and his generosity while others are easily intimidated solely by his presence. Usually, the latter ones simply have not had the chance yet to get to know the Duke better. Otherwise they would realise that behind that cool and brutish exterior lies just a guy who likes order and tea. 

However, there is one specific circumstance that will have even Sigewinne lower her head when passing by his Grace’s office. 

“Do you know what they were arguing about?” The little Melusine has been asking around for a while now, looking for eyewitnesses, and writing down every piece of information as if she was solving a scandalous case. She knows very well that as rough as he may seem, Wriothesley is only human. A human madly, truly in love with none other than Fontaine’s top attorney with whom the Fortress of Meropide is in constant correspondence due to work related matters. 

Sigewinne nervously bites the top of her pen as she returns to her infirmary. The taste of plastic makes her grimace in disgust and look at the writing utensil with annoyance as if it had insulted her. She sighs.

It’s been a week since you hurried out of Wriothesley’s office, furiously stomping towards the elevator and staring down everyone and anyone who dared to cross your path. One week worth of missing documents that have not been sent in by you. One week worth of paperwork that has yet to be completed by Wriothesley. (Which is oddly ironic since that man has not left his office ever since your argument.)

Love will make the sanest person go mad, whether it’s in a good or a bad way. And so all Sigewinne can do right now is think about a way to make the both of you come back to your senses. But how? It’s not like either you or Wriothesley are at her beck and call, and will simply meet up just because she asked you so. Despite the emotional agony that you’re going through right now, you’re both way too stubborn for that.

Agony.

Unless…

~

“Where is he?!” Your voice echoes through the hall as you rush into Sigewinne’s infirmary. That was fast, she thinks. 

She almost feels a little bad when she notices the glimmer in your eyes and your laboured breathing. It’s for everyone’s sake, she reminds herself. 

“He should get here soon.” 

“B-But Neuvilette told me-” A poisoned tea. Those were the news that the Iudex had apparently received from one of the Melusines, and forwarded them to you. You don’t know all the details. You left your office as soon as you got to know that Wriothesley was currently unconscious due to a prisoner who had spiked his afternoon tea. 

Now you’re here, but he’s not and it’s making you even more agitated. “Sigewinne, where is he? Is he alright? Are you hiding something from me?”

“Y/n?” At first you feel his hands all over you before you even get to see him. Wriothesley delicately holds your head, turning it left and right before his hands move to your arms and then lower to your own hands. They’re shaking the slightest bit as he holds them up to his lips, pressing sweet kisses along your fingertips. His blood boils and he clenches his jaw at the simple thought of some low lives being the cause of your current state. 

It’s your turn to inspect him from head to toe now. His hair is a mess, all dishevelled while his pale skin makes you fear that he might just topple over any second. Your body moves before you know it, as you push him towards one of the few beds in the infirmary. “Wriothesley, shouldn’t you be in bed? When did you even wake up?” 

Wake… up? 

“Do you know if the potion will have any long term effects on you?” Despite having him right in front of you, obviously well and not on his deathbed, your heart still feels like it is about to burst from your ribcage. As soon as the news had reached you, you dropped everything. Any documents that you had to write and read through, any meetings with clients and other employees of the Palais Mermonia- 

None of them mattered anymore. All of a sudden, everything seemed so insignificant when there was the uncertainty if you’d ever be able to hear Wriothesley’s voice. Hear him sigh in tiredness before humming with the delight at the taste of his freshly brewed tea.

The simple thought of the possibility of him never waking up again, depriving you from the chance to get another glimpse of his breathtaking eyes. It was enough to get your tear ducts working and your eyes pricking as you hurried to see him as soon as possible.

“Archons, you should really lie down. You don’t look-”

Your mouth falls silent, because you can almost hear the screeching sound of the turning clockworks inside Wriothesley’s brain. It ends up worrying you even more. 

He scrutinises you, lets his gaze travel around the room only to notice that you’re alone now. Only you two. No Sigewinne. 

Sigewinne…

“You have not been attacked today, have you?” Deep blue eyes inspect your body again. Just to make sure, even though he more or less knows that all of this has to be a scheme. 

“No one robbed you? No treasure hoarders, right?” 

He watches your eyes widen, brows furrow before you shake your head. Of course. 

Why else would you believe that he’s comatose? Why else would he believe that you’ve been beaten to a pulp, and robbed off your most precious belongings? Why if not because of Sigewinne? 

“What’s wrong?” You ask cautiously, and you notice now too that one person is missing. 

And it’s only when Wriothesley explains to you that, in fact, there has never been tea nor poison, or at least not any kind of combination of those two. He has never been unconscious, and neither have you been hurt. But what did happen was that the both of you have been led on. Deceived.

And that by none other than the head nurse herself. 

“I can’t believe she pulled off something like that. You looked so awful, I actually thought you were sick.”

“Love, that’s because I was worried sick!” Wriothesley exclaims and exhales a huge breath when you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His arms open and instinctively wrap around you, fingers digging into your hips. And it feels good. So, so good because it’s been way too many days since you’ve held each other like this. 

And, god damn, did he miss it. 

A thought crosses his mind. How your last interaction had been a silly argument. Petty remarks and poisonous words spewed at each other, induced by nothing else but your egos. 

All of it is so insignificant now that you both are in each other’s embrace, and that you’re both fine and unharmed. 

So Wriothesley promises himself to apologise to you later, inhale your scent, brush his fingers through your hair all while showing you how much the few days that you have been apart affected him. Because none of those things should be taken for granted. Because another day with you is not promised but his love for you is.

But first. You both have a bone to pick with a certain Melusine. 

[inumakis-boo]

May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

[jetii]

Promises Made (pt. 1/3)

Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 5,234 / 23,314

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, protective!Crosshair, everyone is bad at feelings, this part is at least 50% bickering, smut in part 3

Summary: Crosshair is back, and you're the only one who still can't seem to forgive him. When you finally have the lead you've been seeking since the extinction of the Jedi, you seize the opportunity to escape the constant turmoil his presence causes you. Of course, Crosshair has other plans.

A/N: This is my longest work yet, so I decided to split it up into parts. But if you’re just here for the smut, don’t worry, the emotional edging is worth it! It’s my first time writing Crosshair so please let me know how I’m doing.🤞 Part two will be posted same time next week.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“I’ll be back before you know it.” You pat Omega’s head, smiling warmly down at the young girl as she clings to you. It hurt to leave her again, but you were going to be gone for a few days at most, not weeks.

Still, her grip doesn’t let up, and her gaze is turned downwards. Things had slowly gone back to normal since you all returned to Pabu from Barton IV, with the exception of Omega’s reluctance to let any of you out of her sight. 

That, and how Crosshair had been acting, which was to say he was avoiding you at all costs.

That was fine with you. The others may have forgiven him, but you weren't so ready to let bygones be bygones. You could tolerate being in the same room as him, but that was as far as you were willing to go. At least until you could figure out why you were still so upset.

And it was frustrating, not being able to put your finger on the cause of your irritation. Crosshair hadn't apologized, but you expected as much. He wasn't the type. You had already forgiven him for betraying the team and refusing to come back, but something was still keeping you from completely letting go.

It was unbecoming of a Jedi, you knew that, but you couldn't shake off your resentment.

It didn't help that his behavior was confusing. The day you got back, the others had gone about their usual routine. But not Crosshair. He was more quiet and standoffish than ever, but it didn't seem directed at anyone. It was almost like he was uncomfortable, and not just in general, but with being around you.

You knew he was spending most of his time by the water, though you never saw him when you went out there yourself. Just his rifle, sitting on the rocks.

The others insisted it was a good sign that he was taking the time to process everything. You didn't have the heart to tell them that you could still sense him through the Force whenever you went out, and his unrest was clear. The tremble of his hand, his uneven breaths, his mind racing, all of it.

The only other time you felt him was when you were alone in your room. You were trying to meditate when he walked past. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel him hesitating at the door, before he ultimately chose to move on.

The thought of confronting him made you anxious. You didn't know what would happen, and you didn't know if you wanted to find out. 

For now, you just wanted to keep your distance and get your anger under control. Leaving for a few days to take care of your own problems will give you the space you need, and hopefully, things will go back to normal once you get back.

"Omega?" you ask, trying to get her attention. She finally looks up at you, and you see the concern in her eyes. Your heart aches, and you kneel down, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I know,” she finally whispers.

She doesn't want you to leave. But you were.

The mission would only take a day or two, and then you'd be back. One of your old contacts had called in, saying that she had some intel you needed. You didn't have the full story, but that wasn't going to stop you from dropping everything to answer. You'd been waiting over a year for a call like this, and you needed to see it through on your own.

So you kneel, meeting Omega eye to eye. You hold out your little finger, and she sighs, unmoving. You wiggle it, drawing a soft laugh from the girl.

You’d taught her how to pinky swear not long after you rejoined the Batch. It was a sort of tradition between you and your Master, and him and his, and so on. 

The promise was more sacred than a verbal one to you, even if it was more juvenile than others. It meant that the person who sealed the deal was obligated to fulfill their promise, or face a lifetime of bad luck. 

Of course, you never believed that part, but you liked the sentiment behind the gesture.

"I promise I'll be back," you whisper, "don't finish Spaceworld without me, okay?"

"Okay," Omega mumbles, a weak smile on her lips. She takes your pinky with hers, and the two of you shake. "You promise you'll be safe?"

"Always," you tell her, low and serious.

Hunter watches the exchange, nodding his approval. He doesn't understand the point of the ritual, but he knows enough to know that Omega feels better. And that you'd keep your word.

Your eyes meet his and he nods, silently telling you to hurry and get going. You straighten and turn toward the Marauder, your bag slung over your shoulder, and start off.

Before you can step foot on the ramp, a voice stops you in your tracks, and your blood runs cold.

“You’re leaving?”

Crosshair steps out from under the shadow of the archway behind you, and you spin around. His eyes narrow when you face him, his hands clenched tightly around his rifle. He stands stiff, as though waiting for a fight.

You're surprised by his presence, surprised he's even talking to you, but your expression doesn't betray the shock. Your brow furrows as you regard him, trying to figure out his angle.

“I’m meeting up with a contact for a mission. I won't be gone long. Two days, maybe less, if everything goes according to plan." 

You don't want to explain further, and your tone leaves no room for argument. But Crosshair has never been one to listen to what you want.

He takes a step forward, his eyes flitting over to Hunter for a brief moment, before looking at you again.

"Who's going with you?"

You frown. "What does it matter?"

"Who's going with you?" he repeats the question, slower, a hint of anger lacing his words.

You're silent for a moment, trying to figure out his ulterior motive. You didn't want to tell him, but if he wasn't going to give up, it might just be easier.

"No one," you answer, the words spilling out. "Just me."

The second the words leave your lips, you know you've said the wrong thing. Crosshair's expression morphs into one of fury, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed.

"You’re letting her go alone?” he asks, turning toward Hunter with an accusatory look. You bristle at the remark, the need to defend yourself growing stronger.

Hunter sighs, running a hand through his hair. He glances at you, and you stare back. You were determined to handle this alone, and while Hunter didn't like it, he understood. So you'd made a deal, the same one you made with Omega, that you'd return quickly and come back alive.

He gives a subtle nod, and you return it.

“I’m not ‘letting her’ do anything. She's an adult, she can do whatever she wants," he answers, crossing his arms. Crosshair's head snaps toward him, his mouth open, but Hunter cuts him off, "Besides, she said she could handle it, and I believe her."

Hunter's words should have made you happy, should have filled you with a sense of pride, but instead all you feel is dread.

If Crosshair had looked angry before, he was downright furious now. His expression morphs from shock to frustration, and his glare shifts from Hunter to you.

You're taken aback by the change. Crosshair had never looked at you like that, not even when he left the squad and you behind.

The look is gone before you can question it, replaced by a steely resolve. He stalks past you, his shoulder brushing yours as he climbs the ramp of the ship.

He doesn't say anything else, doesn't even spare a glance in your direction, and you stare after him, mouth agape, until you realize what he's doing.

"Absolutely not," you snarl, stomping up the ramp behind him. You move to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs you off. "You are not coming with me. I don't want or need your help."

Crosshair ignores your protests, dropping into the copilot's seat. He begins going over the controls, his brow furrowed.

"I don't remember inviting you," you snap. "Get out."

"Don't you mean thank you?" He doesn't turn to look at you, doesn't even spare a glance, as he answers.

"I will thank you when you leave," you seethe. You take a step forward, reaching for his shoulder again. You want him out, and if you have to drag him off the ship, you will.

But he's quicker than you, spinning around to catch your wrist. His hand trembles slightly as he holds it, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before he releases you.

"You're welcome."

He turns away again, focusing on the control panel, and you growl, frustrated. You can feel your anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you know if you don't calm down, it'll spill over.

"Cross," you start, slowly, trying to keep the venom from your voice, "I don't want you to come with me."

"And I don't want you to leave, but here we are."

He doesn't sound angry anymore, doesn't sound anything, really, but his tone still sets you on edge.

"Look, I know you don't like it, but--"

"Then don't go," he interrupts, his fingers gripping the armrests.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was pointless. He isn’t listening to a word you’re saying, and the longer you argue, the longer it will take for you to get off world. If you don’t get going soon, you’ll be late.

"Fine," you hiss, moving to the pilot's seat. "Do whatever you want."

"Good," he replies, his tone sharp. He leans back in the chair, his arms crossed. 

You buckle in and begin the startup sequence, ignoring him. You try to focus on the task at hand, but his presence is distracting, and it takes you a minute longer than usual to finish prepping the ship.

He's still tense, and so are you, but the tension is different. It's uncomfortable, the atmosphere too quiet and too loud all at once. Neither of you speak, and the only sounds are those of the Marauder starting up and the distant chatter of the others outside.

You focus on getting the ship into the air, and Crosshair stares at the ceiling. When you've cleared the planet, you set the coordinates and the ship jumps into hyperspace.

The silence continues. You hate it. You hate how tense things have been, how awkward, how strained.

You don't like him, not anymore, and he's made it clear he doesn't like you, but you were stuck with each other now. You were on a mission, and you didn't have time to sit and stew in your emotions.

"I have a job to do," you say, finally breaking the silence. "It's nothing major, just an exchange. Intel for credits. If you're going to come, then don't get in my way."

Crosshair says nothing, and you don't turn to look at him, but you hear him shift in his seat, the fabric rustling.

"Fine," he responds after some time, his voice quiet. "So what are they giving you?"

You glance over at him, startled by his sudden interest, and you're not sure how to respond. He stares back, his face blank, his expression carefully neutral. It's hard to read him, and while you can't sense any negative emotion from him, you don't trust it.

You fidget, wringing your hands in your lap. This was a bad idea. You shouldn't have told him. He was going to judge you for it, or worse, mock you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words don't come out. What were you supposed to tell him? The truth?

No.

"Doesn't matter," you murmur, turning away from him.

You wish he'd let the conversation drop. You weren't ready for him to know. You weren't even sure if he'd understand.

"It obviously does, or you wouldn't be this worked up about it," he counters. His voice is quiet, but his tone is firm.

"I'm not worked up." You cross your arms, staring out the viewport.

"Sure you're not." 

You can practically hear him roll his eyes, and it makes you angrier.

"I'm not!"

"Okay, okay. Just calm down."

"Stop telling me what to do," you growl, shooting a glare in his direction.

"Stop being so stubborn, and I will."

"Why do you even care, anyway?”

He flinches slightly, and you can see his expression soften as you hold his gaze, watching as he searches for a response. It takes him a second, and you observe in real time as the walls go back up, his face morphing into a neutral mask.

"I don't."

"Then stop acting like it," you say, rolling your eyes.

He tenses at your words, and he doesn't respond right away. You think he's finally dropped the subject, but he pushes further, his tone cold. "Why do you need it?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my business,” he says, quick and sharp.

Then, his eyes widen, and his mouth snaps closed. He's clearly as surprised by his response as you are, and the two of you stare at each other in silence, your heart pounding.

"Oh." 

You're not sure what else to say. The two of you aren't friends, aren't anything, but the weight of his statement doesn't go unnoticed.

You can't figure out if he means it.

You're not sure what to think.

"I mean..." he starts, but doesn't finish. He looks away, clearing his throat. 

"It's fine," you interrupt, not wanting to make things more awkward. The tension is back, and you hate it, but at least you've reached an understanding.

There's nothing between you, not anymore.

Crosshair's quiet, and you're grateful for the silence. You take a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. You'd have time to unpack that later, but right now you had to focus on the mission. You could worry about him when this was over.

After a moment, he turns toward you, his gaze flitting over your face. He doesn't look mad, and his expression is almost pensive.

Finally, he sighs.

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" he asks, watching you carefully.

You shake your head. "You’ll find out when I get it."

He stares at you for a long time, his eyes narrowed. Finally, he huffs, slumping back in his seat. His resignation is a relief, and you breathe a small sigh.

"I have to ask," you begin, eager to change the subject, "what was the point of that little display?"

He raises a brow, glancing over at you. "Display?"

"With Hunter," you elaborate, "back there. I assume it wasn't just to annoy me."

He smirks, the corner of his lips curling upward. He tilts his head, and you try not to think about how it's the first time he's looked at you that way since everything happened.

"I was mostly doing it to annoy you."

"Of course you were." You roll your eyes. You don't believe him, not entirely, but you didn't doubt that he wanted to get under your skin. It felt like that was all he'd done since the beginning, and it was getting tiresome.

"But," he begins, leaning back, "if I can't talk you out of doing this, the least I can do is make sure you have backup."

You stare at him, unsure of how to respond. Your mouth opens, then closes, and you blink several times. What were you supposed to say to that?

"That's... sweet, I guess?" You don't mean for it to come out as a question, but the surprise gets the best of you.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs, and you're reminded of the old Crosshair.

The Crosshair who used to tease you, to rile you up, just because he knew it would make you laugh. The Crosshair who would sit with you while you studied, who would make you food when you were too tired to do it yourself. The one who loved his brothers fiercely, even if he was a pain in the ass. The one that you, despite everything, missed.

You didn't think he was capable of being like that anymore, but here he was, proving you wrong.

"Well," he says, shifting uncomfortably, "It’s my job to keep an eye on you."

You can't help but chuckle at his reasoning, though there's a hint of bitterness to the sound, and his scowl returns.

"It's not funny."

"Oh, come on," you reply, crossing your arms, still laughing. "It's a little funny."

"Is not," he argues, but there's no heat to it.

You snicker, shaking your head. It's not funny, but it's nice. Normal, even. It's the most normal conversation you've had in a long time, and the most normal Crosshair has acted, and it's almost like things are the way they were before.

"Whatever you say, dear." 

The pet name slips out without a thought, and you regret it the second it does. You wince, looking over at him. You hope he doesn't take it the wrong way, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just scoffs, a small smile playing on his lips.

You relax in your chair, letting the tension slip from your body. You'd almost forgotten what it was like, how easy things used to be. It felt good, and you wished you could keep that feeling.

"So," you begin, "are you going to be a good boy while we're there, or am I going to have to watch my back?"

"I'm always a good boy," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You can't help but laugh, and his lips twitch upward, a hint of smugness coloring his features. It's an old joke, and it's ridiculous, but it feels good. You didn't think he had it in him, and hearing his sarcasm again was a welcome surprise.

"We both know that's not true."

"You'd be surprised." He stands, stretching his arms over his head. When he lowers them, he looks at you again, a faint smirk on his lips. "I can be very good, when I want to be.”

He brushes his fingers across your shoulder as he walks past, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help the heat that rises to your face, and you're thankful that he's turned away from you.

You're left in a daze, your mind racing. You didn't think he was capable of having a civil conversation with you, let alone flirting. And yet here you were, trying desperately not to think about the implications behind his words.

It reminded you of before, before everything had gone to shit. Back when he could make you laugh in just a few words and make you blush with even less. He’d tease and flirt and push all your buttons, and it drove you crazy.

And you loved it.

You thought maybe you loved him too, at some point.

But he had thrown all that away when he abandoned the team. He had tossed aside every moment of laughter and affection and friendship, and he'd never seemed to care. And maybe that's what hurt the most, knowing he'd so easily let go of whatever it was between the two of you.

You'd tried not to think about him, after he left. You'd thrown yourself into the missions, and you'd tried not to look back. The others had done the same, you thought, but when Crosshair came back into your lives, they had forgiven him.

So why was it so hard for you?

The answer was supposed to be easy. You’d been the one he’d tried to kill, after all. But you knew it wasn’t his fault, knew it was the chip. You wanted to forgive him, and in a way, you had, but it still hurt.

Maybe it was because he had hurt you, not physically, but in another way. A deeper way. He had left you. He had abandoned the team, and he had left you behind, and despite ample opportunities, he'd refused to come back.

Or maybe it was because, after all that, after he'd hurt you and the people you cared about, you still couldn't bring yourself to hate him.

Maybe, deep down, you were worried that part of you still loved him.

Your head was spinning. You needed a drink, or a nap, or a distraction.

"Where are you going?" you call after him.

"To make sure Omega didn't sneak aboard," he calls back.

You can’t help but smile, shaking your head. He'd never admit it, but he cared about her. He'd probably deny it to his dying breath, if asked, but you knew better. And as you watch him disappear down the hall, a strange feeling blooms in your chest.

It's warm, and light, and familiar.

And for a brief moment, things almost feel right again.

Crosshair is, for lack of a better word, insufferable. He doesn't listen to a word you say, doesn't follow your directions, and has a bad habit of doing the opposite of what you tell him to do.

He also has a knack for making you feel like an idiot. It was something you conveniently forgotten about during your time apart, and now, you were beginning to remember why you'd fought so much in the past.

And the worst part was, he wasn't even trying to piss you off.

He was just...himself.

"That's not how it's done," he sneers, leaning against the wall. His eyes are on your hands, watching you clean your blaster. You know this game, and you don't want to play. So you do the one thing that always seems to get under his skin.

You ignore him.

You pretend like you haven't heard him, and you continue with your task. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He sighs and huffs as you wipe around the trigger mechanism, he crosses his arms as you check the power cell, and you know he's getting antsy.

It isn't until you wet a swatch with solvent and push it through the barrel from front to back, and Crosshair makes a noise of disgust, that you snap.

"What?" you bark, your grip on the weapon tightening. You're not angry, not yet, but you can feel it creeping up on you.

“You’re going to damage the rifling,” he says, pushing off the wall. He reaches for the weapon, but you pull it out of his reach.

"I know what I'm doing."

"Clearly." He rolls his eyes. “If you keep doing that, you’re going to to end up with a misfire or a malfunction, and I don’t think either of us want that. Do you?"

You know he's right, but you don't want to admit it. "No, but—"

"Then give me the damn blaster," he says, reaching out again.

You consider refusing, just to prove a point, but his tone has caught you off guard. He doesn't sound condescending, or mocking, or even annoyed.

He sounds worried.

So you hand it over, and he takes it, his fingers brushing against yours.

"Just let me do it, alright?" he asks, and the frustration in his voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

You nod, watching as he sits next to you, his attention on the weapon. His movements are confident, practiced, and you can't help but notice the way his fingers move as he cleans.

You watch as he sets the blaster aside, grabbing the canister of solvent and a rag. Crosshair's movements are quick and meticulous, and he doesn't miss a spot. What took you nearly twenty minutes to accomplish, he completes in five, and his technique is far more thorough than yours.

“It’s a miracle you haven’t blown your hand off yet," he says, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “If this is what the Jedi were teaching you, no wonder the Empire wiped them out."

Any good will you were feeling toward him disappears in an instant. You bristle, your anger returning, and you glare at him.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later," he teases, his lips twitching upwards.

You can't decide if his comment was meant to piss you off or annoy you, and you settle for a combination of the two. You're not sure why you expected anything else from him, but the joke hits a sore spot. The fact that he doesn't realize what he's said, that he doesn't understand what he's done, only makes it worse.

Crosshair's smile falls when you continue glaring despite the flush in your cheeks, and you can sense his frustration. He huffs, looking back down at the weapon in his hands.

He's quiet for a long time, his brow furrowed. Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft.

"Here," he says, holding the reassembled blaster out, its barrel glistening. It’s the cleanest it's been in months, though you won’t admit it out loud.

Crosshair had always taken great pride in the cleanliness and efficiency of his weapons, and seeing his handiwork in front of you reminds you of simpler times. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d passed out from exhaustion after a mission or gotten too distracted, only to find your weapons cleaned and ready to go the next morning.

It had irritated you, at first. You hated having your things touched without permission, but eventually, you got used to it. It was nice, knowing he cared enough about you to do such a thing. Though Crosshair always denied it when you tried to thank him. As if it would be anyone other than him.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and it’s genuine.

He looks at you, and there's a flash of something in his eyes, something softer than the usual indifference. But it's gone before you can decipher its meaning.

“Why do you still use that thing, anyway?" he asks. “It's a piece of junk. Don’t you have a lightsaber?”

You suck in a breath, his words cutting deep. Of course he would bring up the one thing you didn't want to talk about. You should have expected it. You weren't sure why it had never come up, but you should have known it would happen eventually.

He's staring at the blaster, and you know he didn't mean to hurt you, not this time, but the ache is there, nonetheless. The grief sinks in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold, and your hands shake. You clench them into fists, hoping to hide the movement.

You've gone quiet for too long, and Crosshair knows he's hit a nerve. He turns his attention to you, and his eyes widen when he sees the look on your face.

You're pale, your expression pained. Your mouth is a thin line, your jaw set, and your shoulders are stiff. “No,” you say, your voice quiet. “Not anymore.”

He frowns. He looks confused, and for a second, he almost looks worried. "What happened?"

“I lost it.”

“What?" His voice sounds incredulous, as if the concept is inconceivable. "When?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears. You'd promised yourself you'd never cry over this again, but it was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought. It hurts, talking about it, and a part of you wants to shut him out. 

But another, bigger, part of you wants him to know. Maybe it's a test, of sorts. If he can't handle this, if he doesn't want to hear the truth, then there's no way he'd be able to handle the rest.

“On Kamino," you say, and your voice shakes, despite your best efforts. You pause, taking a deep breath. You close your eyes, and the memories come back, clear as day. "Around the same time I…” 

You can’t continue, but the words are there, lingering in the air. The same time I lost you.

His mouth forms a silent 'oh', and the room falls silent. You look at the floor, avoiding his eyes, and he does the same. You're not sure how much time passes, but it feels like hours.

He clears his throat, and the sound breaks the spell. You look up, and his eyes are on you, intense and dark. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, and the apology surprises you.

"Don't be." You shrug, but you can't shake the melancholy that's settled over the room.

"You should get a new one," he suggests.

You shake your head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

Crosshair hums, and he turns away from you. He picks up the cleaning kit and places it back on the shelf. You watch him, wondering if that's the end of the conversation, and a part of you hopes it is.

But when he turns to face you again, his expression is pensive, and his tone is somber.

He sighs, and the weight of his words hit you, his voice quiet.

“You’re not the same, either."

You swallow thickly, unsure how to respond. You’ve had the same thought rolling around in your head for months, but to hear it spoken out loud, to hear it from him, suddenly makes it seem real.

Because he's right.

You aren't the same, not anymore. You hadn't been since the fall of the Order, since Crosshair left, since you'd lost everything. And you couldn't deny the changes that had been wrought within you, no matter how hard you tried.

"Yeah," you say, and the word is heavy on your tongue. “I guess not.”

You stare at each other, and a moment passes. It's an unspoken understanding, an admission, and neither of you can find the right words.

It's then that you realize that maybe he's changed, too.

And that, for whatever reason, makes you sad.

The silence drags on, and you're not sure if he's waiting for you to speak, or if he's waiting for something else. His eyes are searching, his mouth slightly parted, and he looks almost nervous.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and there's a pressure behind your eyes. You want to say something, but you can't think of anything. You're not sure if the urge is to comfort him, or comfort yourself.

You're grateful when you can feel the the hair on the back of your next prickle, a sign of something shifting in the Force. It's a distraction, a welcome one, and you take the opportunity to break eye contact. You stand to make your way to the cockpit, holstering your blaster as you go.

When you reach the door, you pause, glancing back. Crosshair is still standing in the middle of the room, his head tilted in your direction. His eyes are fixed on you, and he looks almost sad.

You swallow thickly and force yourself to speak. “We should be there in a second."

“How do you—“ 

He’s interrupted by the subtle lurch of the ship dropping out of hyperspace, and his confused expression turns to one of exasperation.

You smile, just a little, and Crosshair scoffs.

"Show off," he mutters, following behind you.

[leighsartworks216]

In Your Arms

Sylus x gn!Reader

Huge huge huge shoutout to @blueroseava for steering my "Sylus isn't used to gentle touches" thought into this fluffy little thing. This one takes place in the Raven universe (the same MC as Lap Dog and The Raven), but I may write another one with a softer MC later. Thank you again for sharing this idea bc now I cannot think straight I just wanna cuddle this huge man so bad <333

Warnings: fluff, cuddling, some biting, established relationship, selectively mute reader, reader is the only one who can boss him around like this

Word Count: 898

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AO3

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Every single deal this week fell through. Every. Single. One. It wasn’t even because the deals were unfair or that he was being duped. No. It was worse. His competitors swept the deals right out from under him.

As a result, Sylus was irritable and quicker to snap than usual. Not at you, of course. He was upset, but he didn’t have a death wish. The twins were mostly the outlet for his bad mood, alongside his punching bag.

You find him in his office, the knuckle of his finger brushing against his upper lip as he read a series of documents. You don’t bother knocking before you enter. He doesn’t look up, but you know he notices your presence. He always does, even in a crowded party.

You walk behind his chair and press your hands into his shoulders, digging your thumbs against the tense muscle at the back of his neck. He sighs, lifting his head up from his work to encourage you. You kiss the back of his head.

“The sun is up and you’re still here.” You drag your thumbs along the sides of his spine before moving back up again.

“Is my kitten missing me?” he teases. His voice is rough with exhaustion, low and slightly airy as you massage him. You lean down to bite his neck. He chuckles at your way of scolding him. But, he finally relents.

The papers in his hands land carelessly on his desk, no longer worth his time when you’re here trying to drag him off to bed. Your magic touch abandons him as he stands. The tension seems to return tenfold when he looks down at you, neck strained once again from the simple fact of his being taller than everyone else.

You grab his hand, holding it to your face briefly to press a kiss to his palm, before intertwining your fingers together and dragging him out of his office. Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen or heard. Mephisto is off spying for Sylus, gathering intel that could turn his hand back against his competitors. He sighs. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

You’re already dressed for bed, but Sylus is still in the nice dress clothes from his meeting earlier that night. He lets your hand go so he can change. When he comes back, the soft pajama pants are hanging low on his lips, but you don’t even spare them a glance.

You’re sitting up, back against the headboard. It’s his usual position, or it was until he found someone worth laying down next to. Someone he knew full well could slit his throat, but who chose to protect it anyway. Any intruders who dared to break into the Onychinus base and make an attempt on his life would be praying they were never born without him ever needing to worry.

“You’re in my spot,” he points out, raising his eyebrow.

You pat your lap. “It’s my spot tonight. Lay down.”

“So demanding.” He crawls up the bed until he can rest his head in your lap. It wasn’t a completely foreign position, when the roles were reversed. It’s the first time he’s ever been down here, looking up into your face. Your thighs as his pillow, keeping him from straining his neck any more. It… feels nicer than he expected it to.

Fingers which have taken lives without hesitation, that he’d seen pull apart guns in seconds just to put them back together equally as fast, traced delicately along his cheek. Soft, tender touches that felt along his jaw and brushed down the bridge of his nose. At one point, they close his eyes, with an accompanying huff of annoyance from you.

“Sleep,” you command.

He chuckles. “Of course, sweetie.”

The gentle caresses tempt him to bite your fingers when you brush them over his lips, but he resists, if only to avoid pissing you off. He doesn’t expect the groan that’s pulled from his lips when your other hand drags through his hair. Your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, his hair sliding through your fingers like silk.

It’s so different to when your hands are usually tangled in his hair. Usually, it’s rough, grabbing fistfuls of white locks and pulling hard enough to sting, commanding his head to be where you want him. This is the closest to heaven he’s ever felt.

He exhales and the tension in his body goes with the slightly shaky breath. You drag your nails from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, praising him for letting go so easily in your care. Your other hand glides down his neck and arm until you can lace your fingers together once more.

As his exhaustion takes hold, his trust is implicitly and wholly in your hands, peaceful in the knowledge that he will make it through the night even in such a vulnerable position.

In the morning, he’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around your back and face pressed tightly against your belly. Your hand is still tangled in his hair, limp as you sleep, but sturdy in its willpower to stay there. He’s the first to wake, disoriented and slow to piece together how he ended up here. But then he closes his eyes again, nuzzles like a cat into your welcoming heat, and drifts off.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow

[rootedinrevisions]

Between Sets and Scenes

SUMMARY: As a dedicated personal trainer in Washington D.C., you've worked with high-profile clients before, but when actor Glen Powell steps into your gym, life takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple fitness transformation for Glen quickly evolves into something more when the lines between professionalism and attraction begin to blur. A chance encounter outside the gym leads to late-night conversations, unexpected connections, and the realization that sometimes the best chemistry happens off-screen. But with Glen's rising star and your grounded life, can you keep things casual, or is something deeper already taking shape?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The familiar ping of your inbox echoed through your office as you finished typing up a nutrition plan for one of your long-term clients. Leaning back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening rush at the gym. It was mid-spring, the time of year when everyone suddenly remembered they had vacations or summer plans that required them to get into shape. Your calendar was filling up fast, but you thrived in the chaos.

As you clicked through your unread emails, one subject line caught your eye.

Transfer Client: Glen Powell – Ultimate Performance, Los Angeles.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glen Powell? As in the Glen Powell—actor, movie star, all-around charmer? You quickly opened the email, skimming through the details.

Eddie here, from the L.A. branch. We’ve got a transfer for you—our client, Glen Powell. He’s been working with us for a while, getting in shape for a bunch of his previous roles. Glen’s a solid guy, no diva attitude, but he’s wrapping up filming in D.C. and needs a few weeks of training before his next project. Figured you’d be the best person for the job.

I’ve attached his info and previous programs. Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly, Glen’s a hard worker. You shouldn’t have any problems. 

Just, uh, maybe keep an eye on the tequila intake.

Cheers,Eddie

You chuckled at the tequila comment but focused on the rest of the email. This was definitely an unexpected assignment, but you were more intrigued than overwhelmed. A high-profile client like Glen meant there was a level of professionalism and discretion required, but you had handled demanding clients before. Glen Powell would be no different… right?

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be worth getting a bit more insight from Eddie before you met with Glen. He’d worked with Glen before and could offer valuable information that a few attached files couldn’t convey. You reached for your phone, quickly dialing Eddie's number. After a couple of rings, the line connected, and Eddie’s laid-back demeanor and accent came through.

“Hey! I had a feeling you’d call.”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I couldn’t resist. Glen Powell, huh? Big name. I wanted to get some inside scoop on him before I officially start working with him.”

“Totally understandable,” Eddie replied. “Glen’s honestly one of the easiest clients we’ve had. No diva behavior, no slacking off. He shows up, puts in the work, and follows the plan.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, relieved. “Anything in particular I should keep an eye out for? You mentioned the tequila?”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yeah, man loves his tequila. It’s the only food from our restricted list he really ever eats. He’s not gonna go overboard, but just be aware that he likes to unwind with a drink now and then. He’s been keeping up with his workouts since our last session, so he’s not starting from scratch.”

“So he’s already in pretty good shape?”

“Definitely,” Eddie confirmed. “He looks great, but he’s looking to tighten up for this rom-com he’s shooting soon. Wants to get that beach body look, you know? He’s got a few areas he wants to tone up, but overall, you’re just fine-tuning.”

You made a few notes as Eddie spoke, already thinking of some adjustments you could make to Glen’s program to push him toward his goals. “Got it. Anything else I should know about his routine?”

“He sticks to his meal plans pretty well. I mean, the guy’s a professional at this point. You’ll probably notice he doesn’t need a lot of hand-holding. But don’t be afraid to push him—he responds well to a challenge.”

You nodded, appreciating the insight. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m excited to get started with him.”

“You’ll do great. Just keep it fun, keep him motivated, and I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

After wrapping up the call with Eddie, you hung up and set your phone down, staring at Glen’s profile on your screen. This wasn’t just a regular client. This was Glen Powell—known for his charm, his dedication to his craft, and apparently, his love for tequila.

With a deep breath, you stood up and stretched. Time to prepare for tomorrow, when you’d officially meet your new high-profile client. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be your typical training session, but you were ready to rise to the challenge.

A week had passed since your conversation with Eddie, and you’d spent the time crafting the perfect workout plan for Glen. He didn’t need a complete overhaul, just some fine-tuning to get him into peak shape for his upcoming role. 

Now, sitting at the front desk of the gym, you were watching the clock, knowing Glen would be arriving any minute.

The gym was quieter than usual—late morning hours had a way of lulling the space into a calm before the after-work crowd flooded in. You glanced over at the door, almost on instinct, when the bell chimed. And there he was.

Glen Powell.

He strolled in with that signature effortless charm, his stride confident but relaxed. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and his black athletic shorts showed off his toned legs. A baseball cap turned backward, completed the look. Even with his casual attire, he had an undeniable presence.

You stood up from the desk, offering him a smile. “You must be Glen.”

His grin matched yours as he walked up to you, extending a hand. “That’s me. And you must be [Your Name], right?”

You nodded, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and warm—just as you’d expected. “That’s right. Good to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” he said, his eyes scanning the gym behind you for a moment before settling back on you. “Eddie’s told me great things about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you laughed softly, appreciating the compliment. “He said some pretty good things about you too.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head with a mock-serious look. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, motioning toward the gym’s main floor. “Ready to get started?”

His smile widened, and he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

You led him toward a quieter corner of the gym where you had the session planned out. “So, Eddie filled me in on what you’ve been up to, but I’d like to hear from you. What’s your goal for these next few weeks?”

As Glen set his bag down, he glanced around at the equipment before turning his focus back to you. “I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but this next role has a lot of, uh... shirtless scenes.” He laughed lightly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I want to lean out a bit more, just tighten everything up.”

You nodded, pulling up his customized workout plan on your tablet. “I’ve got just the thing for you. We’ll be focusing on toning your core, arms, and legs—nothing too extreme, but enough to get you where you need to be before filming starts.”

Glen leaned over slightly to glance at the plan, nodding in approval. “Looks good. You’ve got me doing some heavy lifts, huh?”

You smiled, sensing his enthusiasm. “I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to push you without burning you out.”

He chuckled, clearly ready to dive in, but before you moved toward the weights, you stopped him with a quick smile. “Before we get started, though, I need to take some baseline measurements.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Measurements?”

You nodded, setting the tablet down. “Yeah, just so I can document your progress over the next four weeks. It'll help us both see how far you’ve come when you’re a couple weeks in, especially if you’re aiming to get more toned.”

“Fair enough,” Glen said, stepping back as you grabbed a tape measure from your desk. “You’re the boss.”

He stood still, arms slightly raised as you started taking the first measurement around his chest. You worked quickly, not making it awkward, but there was no denying the closeness as you measured his biceps next.

“Okay, now your waist,” you said, dropping to one knee to wrap the tape measure around his torso.

Glen chuckled lightly, the sound relaxed. “This part’s always the most nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly in return. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re already in great shape. This is just to see how much progress you make in the next few weeks.”

“You say that now,” he joked, but the smile he flashed was playful, clearly at ease with the process.

After finishing his waist measurement, you stepped back and jotted down the numbers. “All set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Glen shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Well, I’ll be making sure to push you just enough to keep it interesting.” You gave him a grin as you set aside the tape measure and picked up your tablet again, ready to log the details. “Alright, now we’re ready. Let’s get started.”

As you both headed toward the weights area, you couldn’t help but notice the ease with which Glen navigated the gym. He wasn’t just a celebrity going through the motions—he was here to work. And something about his grounded, no-nonsense attitude put you at ease, too.

“So,” Glen said, stretching out his arms before reaching for a dumbbell, “how long have you been with Ultimate Performance?”

“About five years now. I started as an intern after getting my degree in sports science, then worked my way up. Now I’m doing personal training full-time.”

“Five years,” he said with a nod, looking impressed. “That’s awesome. I’ve only heard good things about this place.”

“Glad to hear it,” you replied, as you both moved through the warm-up. “And since we’re talking about that—Eddie warned me about your... tequila habits.”

Glen laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, yeah. Guilty. But I promise to keep it in check.”

“Good to know,” you said, smiling as you moved into the first set of exercises. “As long as you put in the work like Eddie says you do, I’ll let you have a cheat day here and there.”

His grin didn’t falter, but his focus shifted, now locked in as he began his first round of squats. You observed his form, making minor adjustments here and there, impressed by his natural athleticism.

It wasn’t long before the playful back-and-forth gave way to the steady rhythm of the workout, Glen pushing himself with the same dedication Eddie had spoken so highly of.

By the time you moved to the free weights, his shirt was damp with sweat, but he never complained or asked to slow down. Glen had a drive that reminded you why you loved working with serious clients—it wasn’t just about the physical change. It was the discipline, the effort, the focus. And Glen had all of that.

By the time you got to the final set of exercises, Glen was visibly feeling the burn. His breathing had picked up, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. You couldn't help but admire how hard he was working, despite the intensity.

As Glen set the weights down after his last set of deadlifts, he straightened up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, flashing you a tired but amused smile. “You weren’t kidding about this workout plan. You sure you’re not taking it easy on me?”

You laughed softly, meeting his gaze. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he caught his breath. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He placed his hands on his hips, still winded but clearly impressed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you’re making progress. A little soreness is good—it’s how you know your muscles are working.”

“Good to know,” Glen replied with a smirk. “I’ll remind myself of that when I can’t walk tomorrow.”

You shook your head, amused by his playful banter. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take it day by day, and by the end of this, you’ll be in even better shape than you were before.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Better than before, huh?”

You shrugged confidently. “That’s the goal.”

Glen flashed you a grin, wiping down the equipment as he finished cooling down. “Alright then, Coach. I’ll trust you to get me there.”

* * * *

It was one of those weekends where you finally had a moment to breathe. You’d been pushing through long days at the gym, so a girls' night out was exactly what you needed. The bar was buzzing with energy—packed enough to feel lively but not too crowded. You sipped your drink, laughing with your friends as the music pulsed in the background.

A larger group walked in, but you barely glanced their way, too caught up in the conversation at your table. Washington D.C. was always filled with all types, so it wasn’t unusual for new faces to pass through. But after a while, you noticed your friends exchanging glances, their eyes darting toward the bar.

“What?” you asked, curious about what had captured their attention.

Your friend leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper as she nodded toward the bar. “Isn’t that...?”

You turned your head, following their gaze—and there he was. Glen Powell. Standing at the bar, his familiar smile in place as he chatted with the bartender. He looked effortlessly casual, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark jeans, blending in with the crowd in a way only someone like him could. He seemed completely relaxed, enjoying his night off with a group of friends or maybe coworkers, a drink in hand.

Your heart skipped for a moment, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He was a client, nothing more. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out, enjoying himself. You took a sip of your drink, willing yourself not to think too much about it.

But as the night went on, you found your drink dwindling, and you knew you’d need a refill soon. “I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said to your friends, sliding out of the booth.

As you approached the bar, you felt the press of the crowd around you. You waved at the bartender, but before you could place your order, you heard a voice behind you.

“Should I be worried about my trainer drinking on a weekend?”

You turned, and there was Glen, standing beside you with a teasing smile. His eyes were bright with amusement, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin that you couldn’t help but mirror.

You raised your glass in a playful toast. “I’m off-duty,” you said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one who needs to watch their tequila intake, remember?”

Glen laughed, leaning slightly closer as if the conversation was just between the two of you. “You caught me.” He glanced at the glass in his hand and then back at you. “I’ll take it easy. Don’t want you to give me a lecture at the gym on Monday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice warm. “But you don’t go easy on me, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at your glass. “Looks like you’re due for a refill though. Mind if I grab that one for you?”

It was an offer so casual, so easy, that for a second you almost forgot the circumstances—he was your client, after all. But his tone was friendly, his expression open and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Only if it’s not tequila,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful grin.

He laughed again, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll stick to something that won’t get me in trouble with my trainer.”

You smiled, and before you could even protest, Glen signaled the bartender. “Another for her, and I’ll take one too,” he said, his voice smooth but casual, as though he wasn’t really paying for your drink but just sharing in a moment.

The bartender moved efficiently, and within seconds, two fresh glasses were placed in front of you. You picked up yours, the coolness of the glass meeting your hand as you glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, that easy grin still in place. “I figured it might soften the blow when you destroy me in the gym next week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so you’re buttering me up now?”

“Is it working?”

The way he said it, with just the right mix of playfulness and charm, had you smiling despite yourself. He wasn’t being pushy, wasn’t crossing any lines—just having fun with the moment.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid refreshing after the heat of the crowded bar. “I’m still going to push you hard on Monday, just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a secret between the two of you. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, recognizing your own mantra being thrown back at you. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as you stood there with Glen, the conversation flowing easily, as if you were just two people sharing a drink rather than client and trainer.

“So, is this your usual spot?” Glen asked, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s more of an impromptu girls' night kind of thing. What about you? Out with friends?”

“Yeah, wrapping up a long week of filming,” he said, motioning toward the group in the back. “Figured we’d blow off some steam before the craziness starts up again next week.”

You nodded, understanding. “Well, you deserve it. Just don’t go overboard. I don’t want to have to kick your ass on Monday for drinking too much.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll try to keep it under control, but no promises.”

“Noted,” you said with a smirk, the comfortable rhythm of the conversation settling between you both. There was something almost effortless about it—just enough teasing to keep it fun, but not too much to cross the line into anything more than friendly banter.

Still, as you stood there at the bar with Glen, the energy around you shifting just slightly, it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced just a little faster. You quickly pushed the thought away. He was your client, after all. This was just a chance encounter on a Saturday night—nothing more.

“Anyway,” Glen said after a moment, glancing at your now-refilled drink, “I better get back to the group. But don’t worry, I’ll be ready for whatever workout you throw at me on Monday.”

You raised your glass in a lighthearted toast. “You’d better be.”

With a final smile, Glen gave you a nod and made his way back to his friends, leaving you standing at the bar, a faint smile lingering on your lips as you watched him walk away.

You made your way back to the booth where your friends were sitting, trying to act like your quick conversation at the bar hadn’t just sent a small thrill through your chest. As soon as you sat down, though, you realized there was no hiding anything from them. Their eyes were all wide, gleaming with curiosity, and they immediately leaned in.

“Okay, spill,” one of your friends demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “What was that?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What do you mean?”

Another friend nudged your arm playfully. “Don’t act like you don’t know! That was Glen Powell, wasn’t it?”

You blinked, then gave a slow nod, not quite ready for the tidal wave of questions that was sure to follow. “Yeah… that was Glen.”

Their jaws practically dropped in unison.

“Oh my God,” One of them breathed. “You’re telling me you’ve been casually talking to Glen Powell at the bar this whole time you’ve been gone?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you replied quickly, trying to wave off the moment as you took a sip of your drink. “We just ran into each other, that’s all.”

One of their eyes narrowed as she leaned in even closer. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention a ‘high-profile client’ a couple of weeks ago? Are you telling me Glen Powell is the guy you’ve been working with at the gym?”

You sighed, knowing there was no getting around it now. “Okay, yes. I’ve been working with him for a couple of weeks. But seriously, it’s nothing. Just professional.”

Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads as they processed that revelation.

“He’s your client?” One of them echoed in disbelief. “How did you not tell us it was him?”

You gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly name-drop him. It’s a work thing, you know? Confidentiality and all that.”

“Oh, please,” one of them said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest. Glen Powell is out there starring in movies, and you’ve been working with him to get him in shape? That’s insane.”

“It’s really not that crazy,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm under their eager stares. “He’s just another client.”

“Just another client?” Another one repeated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me that conversation at the bar wasn’t flirty. He was totally into you.”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “It wasn’t flirting. We were just joking around. If anything, I was warning him about his workout on Monday after all that tequila he’s probably going to drink tonight.”

One of your friends leaned back with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. He totally offered to buy your drink, didn’t he?”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah… he did. But it wasn’t a big deal! He was just being nice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Or maybe a little flirty?”

You sighed, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t like that. He was just joking around. Honestly, we talked more about his workout plan than anything else.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure it was all about the workout plan.”

You could feel their eyes on you, the playful smiles they exchanged as they leaned in with the kind of curiosity only good friends could get away with.

“Seriously,” you insisted, though your grin betrayed you. “He’s a client. It’s not like that.”

Your friends weren’t convinced. “Well, it sure looked like something to me. The way he was talking to you at the bar? He didn’t look like he was thinking about squats and deadlifts, that’s for sure.”

Another one chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, and that whole ‘watch your tequila intake’ thing? That was prime trainer-to-client flirting material.”

You laughed again, leaning back in your seat as the teasing continued. “It wasn’t flirting,” you repeated, though their playful accusations were starting to wear down your defenses.

“Right,” one of the girls said with a wink. “Well, even if it wasn’t, he clearly likes talking to you. So maybe that’s a sign of something.”

One of the others nodded, her expression turning a bit more serious. “Hey, we’re just saying—if something does happen, you have our full support.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship settle around you. “Thanks, but really, it’s all professional. I’m not looking for anything more.”

One of the girls raised her glass in a toast. “To keeping it professional… but maybe hoping for a little fun along the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”

As you took a sip, though, your thoughts wandered back to the easy conversation you’d had with Glen at the bar. Sure, it was just work—just a client interaction—but there had been something undeniably lighthearted, something that had left you smiling long after he’d walked away.

As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Glen from your spot at the booth, the laughter of your friends fading into the background. You couldn’t help but notice the easy charm he exuded, even as he joked with his friends at the bar. It was hard not to smile every time you thought about your previous conversations. The playful banter between you two had definitely sparked something beyond a simple trainer-client dynamic.

After a while, you decided to venture back to the bar for another drink, this time determined to keep the mood light. As you approached, Glen noticed you immediately, his face breaking into a grin.

“Hey! Look who it is,” he called out, leaning against the bar with a casual confidence. “Back for another?”

You chuckled, leaning against the bar beside him. “What can I say? You have to stay hydrated, right?”

He laughed a warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “True. So, what’s your game plan for the weekend?”

“Honestly? Just a girls' night tonight. You know, drinks, gossip—typical stuff,” you said, your gaze lingering on him as you took a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun. Any exciting plans with the girls?”

You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just catching up. What about you? Any plans for the weekend?”

Glen leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “I was thinking of having a quiet night, maybe get some takeout on the way home. But who knows? My plans could change.”

You smirked, noticing the suggestive undertone in his words. “Oh? What kind of changes do you have in mind?”

He met your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I could be convinced to do something more… interesting if the right company showed up.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, caught off guard by the implication behind his words. “Interesting? Like what?”

“Maybe a movie night? You know, two people just relaxing and enjoying some downtime,” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.

“Sounds tempting,” you replied, your heart racing a little faster at the thought. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Rom-coms, obviously,” he said with a wink. “I’m an actor, after all. Gotta stay on brand.”

You laughed, but then the conversation shifted. “So… any significant others I should know about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Nope, just me. I’ve been focusing on work mostly.”

“Same here,” you admitted. “I’m single, too. Just haven’t had the time to meet anyone.”

“Funny how that works,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you. “Two busy people, both single.”

There was a charged silence between you as you both processed the moment, the playful tension hanging in the air. Glen shifted slightly closer, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You know, it’s refreshing to meet someone who gets it. Not many people can understand the kind of schedule I keep.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I'm sure it can be tough.”

“Maybe we should change that,” he suggested, his voice lower now. “Have some more ‘interesting’ nights.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing at the unspoken invitation. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Just then, as the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone to check the time. “Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it sneaks up on you,” he said, glancing around. “Are you getting an Uber home?”

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “Yeah, I should probably call one.”

Glen frowned slightly, then offered, “Let me give you a ride home. I don’t want you waiting out here for an Uber.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. It was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the professional boundaries. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, his smile warm and inviting. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to chat. And, you know, I can promise not to make you do any burpees in the car.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating. “Okay, if you insist.”

As you both walked outside, the warm spring air wrapped around you. Glen kept the conversation light as you walked to his car, and you found yourself enjoying his company even more. Once you were inside, he turned to you, the playful atmosphere returning.

“So, how bad my pis my punishment going to be on Monday for the drinks I had tonight?” He asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “I might just add some extra reps to your routine.”

His smile widened, and suddenly the air felt charged again. You could feel the intensity building between you, the chemistry undeniable.

“Bring it on,” he replied, his voice dropping lower. “I can handle it.”

And before you knew it, the space between you disappeared. Glen leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you realized you’d crossed a line, but it felt exhilarating. You were no longer just trainer and client; you were something else entirely.

“Wow,” you breathed, your heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wow, indeed.”

As Glen pulled out of the bar's parking lot, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The city lights blurred past the windows, and you glanced over at him, catching his eyes focused on the road, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When you arrived at your apartment, you hesitated for just a moment before inviting him in. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you’re still up for that movie?”

“I’d love to,” he replied, stepping out of the car and following you inside.

Once inside, you hung up your coats and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks before settling next to him. Glen watched you with that familiar warmth in his gaze, and it made your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll let you pick the movie,” you said, scrolling through your options.

“Let’s go classic,” he suggested, pointing at How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. “This one is always a good time.”

You chuckled. “Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.”

As the movie started, you both settled into the couch, the initial awkwardness fading into the cozy atmosphere. Glen’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you.

About halfway through the film, you felt his arm move, sliding down to your shoulder as he gently pulled you into his side. A warmth spread through you at the gesture, and you smiled, leaning into him comfortably.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at you with those charming eyes.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you replied softly, feeling the connection between you deepening. You could feel his heartbeat against you, steady and reassuring, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sweet kind of intimacy.

As the movie continued, you caught yourself glancing up at him, noticing how he focused intently on the screen, yet you could sense he was aware of you too. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, sending little sparks of electricity between you.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, his gaze still on the movie.

“A million times,” you laughed. “It’s one of those movies I can watch on repeat and never get tired of.”

He smiled, looking down at you. “It’s one of my favorites too…Kind of like the person watching it.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, a light flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The film played on, but the focus began to shift more towards each other. You felt the tension build in the small moments, the lingering touches, and the way his gaze lingered on you. It was as if the lines between work and pleasure had blurred completely, and you were both caught up in something new and thrilling.

With the credits rolling, Glen turned to you, the air between you electric. “So, what do you think? Think I can pull off this upcoming Rom-Com role after watching one?”

You laughed, your heart racing. “I think you’ve got the charm down already. Just maybe don’t take any advice from this movie for your actual dating life.”

“Noted,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “You know maybe I need a few more rom-com movie nights to fully prepare for this role.”

“I might know someone who could help you with that,” you said, your pulse quickening as you realized how much you wanted to spend more time with him.

He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you outside the gym.”

“Me too,” you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could think it through, you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you. And just like that, he was closing the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment. When you pulled away, breathless, you realized this was more than just a client relationship; it was the start of something new, something exciting.

[anni-writes]

teamwork

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader | very suggestive fluff

word count: 1.8k

Warnings: post timeskip Kuroo x coworker! reader, fluff nsfw-ish language

@ anni says: I'm Kuroo Tetsurou's whore. but I also adore him. this was just another innocent self indulgent drabble that was lost in my drafts, so there you go, enjoy!

the lingering stares, the coffee excuses, the light subtle touches while exchanging papers, the gossipy chatting every lunch break,

the way you look so goddamn hot when you're focused in your work and how that sometimes distracts him from his own work…

and also the inhumanly strenght he need to gather to divert his stare from your plump thighs when you cross your legs under the desk… the privileged view from his desk across from yours can be also a burden sometimes

and then there's that damn high heels you use… not often, though. only when there's important meetings. makes you feel more confident, you said once. but god, when you use it he just want to lay on the floor for you to step on him

there's more and more and so much more about the office bond he has with you that irks him both in the right and wrong ways.

working in the JVA marketing implied that your most strong stakeholder was the promotion division, once the areas needed each other to thrive

therefore, makes total sense that you and Kuroo were so close to each other, right?

it's normal when you're training a new intern and he tags along with the excuse to help you, but spends the whole time glaring menacingly at the guy when he stares at your cleavage a little to much, isn't it?

or when he passes by your desk, leaving a chocolate once every other week, with his handwriting in a note thay says “that presentation was sick, congratulations” or “you deserve a raise, but take this chocolate in the meantime” or some other silly thing that makes you smile

your eyes always dart to him, smiling softly,

but you also can't help but think to yourself that he wanna fuck you so bad— and the thought itself is so entertaining that you shake your head, snorting, as he eyes you puzzled

the tension is clear for you as much as it is for him… he, too, checked all your boxes. a handsome smoking hot smart and competent man that has his eyes set on you? you'd be crazy not to enjoy

so, eventually, you would throw paper balls at him while he's focused, making him roll his eyes and smirk

but also never ceased to bring him coffee when you go get for you. you know how he likes, he works so close to you, why wouldn't you bring him one too?

and the glint in his eyes make it worth it every damn time

neither of you were making the first move so soon, but everyone in the office knows about the unspoken bond you share, gaining some attention in gossip groups around the floor

but then, one day, you were working until very late, apparently alone at the office.

and suddenly, he popped up back, with a can of beer, a loosened tie, two buttons opened, walking torwards your desk, placing the beer beside your papers

you looked at him tilting your head puzzled

“Where did you get that?”

“At the bar across the street”

i tilted my head even more

“You were at the bar across the street and came back to the office to hand me a beer?”

“Exactly”

he said matter-of-factly, making you snort. his words were subtly slured, indicating he drank enough to get at least tipsy

“Why?”

“Why not?”

he answered shrugging, and you read through his attempt to divert the topic. but you also know he's very stubborn, so you just brush it off

“How did you even know I was still in the office? It's late…”

you say, while opening the can while looking at the hour on your computer

“It's the first Monday of the month, you always stay late finishing the monthly report… Besides, I saw the light on from across the street, just put two and two together”

“Damn, you're good—”

you say, amazed at how he memorized your routine by now, while sipping your beer, sighing as the cold liquid soothes your tense muscles, feeling the last motivation to end the report today getting obliterated

he watches your every move like a hawk, walking sneakly behind your back to rub your shoulders

you sigh, feeling a chill down your spine with his touches, humming softly with the massage

“You're done with the report?"

he asked, his fingers rubbing circles in your back muscles, sliding to your shoulders. you lean in his touch

“No… But I think I can finish it tomorrow morning," you reply, trying to suppress the pleasure in your voice from his magical touch.

he chuckles lightly, lowering his torso to lean closer, his breath hitting your neck, making you shiver embarrassingly

"That's what I thought," he says softly, his hands never ceasing their movements, the tension that's been building between the two of you for months feels like it's finally reaching a boiling point

before things get awkward, you start to stand up from your chair, closing your laptop on the desk, sipping your beer casually,

when he took advantage of the moment to pull your chair away and leaning closer, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth on your ear

"Don't I deserve a… reward… for the beer and the massage?”

he whispered, the warmth of his breath making your heart race, his arms encircling youe waist in a new way… despite your supposed closeness, it's the first time you feel him this close.

his voice is like velvet, seductive and irresistible, making you question if this was a good idea.

you pathetically place your free hand on the desk to anchor yourself, feeling the weight of the intensity that has been building between us

"Is that what you've been thinking about all along? Pinning me on the desk when there's no one around?"

you whisper back, your voice dropping to a sensual tone as you lean in his chest, looking at him through your shoulders

the tension is palpable, your mutual attraction finally coming to a head. you put your beer down on the desk, meeting his gaze with a daring look, ready to cross the line you've been flirting with for so long.

"And what if I have?" — he whispers back, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. —"What are you going to do about it?"

his challenge hangs in the air between us, a gauntlet thrown down, waiting for you to pick it up. and that's exactly what you do.

you turn around to face him, raising your chin to line your mouth with his, as his arms hook around my waist

“I might just finally kiss you… would that be bad?”

his eyes darken with desire, his hands pulling you closer.

"That might be the best idea you've ever had,"

and just like that, we give up, succumbingto the tension building for months,

he leans in, or you lean in… its indistinguishable who kissed who first, but you capture each other lips in a heated intense kiss, your tongues already seeking each other’s and you taste the faint malt of the beers he had earlier, sighing with the deliciousness of it all

he gives one step further, boxing you on the desk behind, making you lean back, his hand traveling down my hips

you retaliate, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting softly, making him groan

he pushes his tongue inside your mouth again, and you gladly take it, sucking on it, kissing him back with the same passion

it feels almost relieving having him like this after so much tension building. it feels right.

he parts the kiss, but kept his mouth on your jaw, leaving a trace of wet kisses down, reaching your neck

you lean your head back, giving him free reign on your neck, which he gladly take it, switching from kisses to bites, making you moan softly

your moan unlock something primal in his brain, and one of his hand on your hips travel down your thigh, reaching the back of your knee, pushing up his waist, and the other slides to cup your ass

all that while assaulting your neck with languig nibbles, and you can't help but let out a chuckled moan

“Fuckk… eagerrr, are we?”

you say, low and purring, and the way you draw the words from your mouth goes straight to his pants, making his cock twitch, unconsciously grinding his hips on you, his hand giving a light squeeze in your ass

he grins, groaning a little in your neck, the tone vibrating against your chest

it takes you the damn last bit of strenght to knock some sense into him

“Mmhmm… Kuroo… you know… there's cameras in the office… ”

you say slightly breathless, threading your fingers in his hair, gripping, trying to pull him away from your neck

“Call me Tetsurou”

he say lowly and i can't help but chuckle

“Tetsurou…” — i say, rolling his name from my tongue, liking the sound— “there's cameras—”

“They're not gonna check the cameras unless something gets stolen…”

“We're not gonna fuck in the office, Tetsuro”

he parts from your neck, looking straight at me with a glint in his eyes, his famous lazy smirk

“Oh? So we are gonna fuck?”

you narrow your eyes, he got you now.

you snort, grabbing his tie and pulling him for another kiss, mumbling a quick

“Shut up”

he kiss you chuckling in your mouth, his hand on your thigh progressing further, sliding your skirt up, feeling the soft skin he drooled so many times before—

“Not here, Tetsuro—”

he grumbles, releasing your thigh and raising his hands in mocking surrender

“Okay, okay. I get it.” — then he takes your hand, pulling you closer to him — “but you're coming to my place now, and I'm not taking no for an answer”

as you two leave the workplace giggling and holding hands, your coworkers on the bar across the street watch the scene, all ready to let the gossip spread, but also knowing it was bound to happen eventually

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends. 

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts. 

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that. 

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else. 

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend. 

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it. 

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam. 

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end. 

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly. 

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?” 

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.” 

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.  

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer. 

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.” 

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?” 

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?” 

“Going away party?” 

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.” 

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?” 

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.” 

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot. 

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants. 

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.” 

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter. 

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--” 

“Sam,” you drone. 

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head. 

“Never said otherwise.” 

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.” 

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers. 

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.” 

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone. 

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest. 

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York. 

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life? 

It doesn’t matter, does it? 

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out. 

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh. 

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world. 

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end. 

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong? 

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know. 

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.  

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt. 

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.  

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee. 

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night. 

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit. 

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands. 

“What is this?” You snicker. 

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!” 

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much. 

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.” 

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.” 

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots. 

“You guys,” you breathe. 

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.” 

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs. 

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--” 

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?” 

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?” 

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs. 

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?” 

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens. 

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.” 

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.” 

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.” 

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.” 

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect--” 

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you. 

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool. 

“He’s not coming,” you utter. 

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.” 

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.” 

“Asshole,” Sam sneers. 

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--” 

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.” 

“Really, it’s not--” 

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?” 

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.” 

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.” 

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up. 

“Alright, I got it.” 

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.” 

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully. 

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say. 

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.” 

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!” 

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.” 

“What?” You hiss. 

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.” 

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.” 

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.” 

“You two,” you roll your eyes. 

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.” 

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really? 

“Money?” You wonder. 

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.” 

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation... 

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.” 

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--” 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.” 

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest. 

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls. 

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles. 

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him. 

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.” 

[cllightning81]

Favour

Summary : You need help during a race weekend and after asking everyone you could, Liam suggests you ask Max an old friend

Pairing/s: Max Fewtrell x Engineer!Single Mum!Reader, Paul Aron x Engineer!Reader (Platonic)

Appearances : Bryan Bozzi, Liam Lawson, Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Oliver Oakes

Warning/s : Mention of death

Word Count : 5.3k

Masterlist

Max Fewtrell Masterlist

Tag List

Being a race engineer was hard enough as it is, but being a race engineer with a little baby was even harder. Normally, you were able to find someone within Hitech to watch your baby girl -Aurora- but this week everyone was a little bit more busy than normal 

“You know if I wasn’t racing I’d watch Rory” Paul smiled, waving his hands at the baby in your arms 

“I know you would, Paul, but we’re on pole today, and we’re going to convert it to a win” You smiled, rubbing his shoulder 

“I want to top the championship again” You nodded with a proud smile 

“We’re going to get you there” You nodded, placing Rory down on the office floor. Going over the data from last year and the last race with Paul was not as easy as it looked because he was always getting distracted by the smallest things, including Rory, who was playing with her toys. 

It was an hour later when you were walking through the F1 paddock to meet up with Bryan, who you were helping slightly with his new role within Ferrari. Sat in the Ferrari meeting room with Rory in a sling as you talked Bryan through some basic information he’d need to know for this race about the race engineering side of things. 

“You don’t fancy babysitting, do you?” You asked Bryan as you walked out of the Ferrari garage 

“Sorry I’ve still got my performance coach jobs to do” You nodded 

“Was worth a shot anyway” You sighed 

“Hey Y/N” Liam smiled instantly, going to play with Rory like the biggest child he was. 

“Hey there, sweets. Hey, what are you saying today, hmm?” Liam asked Aurora 

“She’s asking if her favourite non-biological uncle wants to babysit her?” You asked with a smile

“Sorry Y/N/N VCARBS got me on standby cause Yuki isn’t feeling the best after his crash yesterday” You sighed with a nod 

“Well good luck if that happens” You smiled, rubbing his shoulder. Liam was your first driver when you joined Hitech, but at that point, you were still on probation and starting to learn everything. 

“Max is in the Mclaren garage though” He shrugged, and you smiled 

“Liam Lawson, you are the best. I really hope you get that seat, but I’ll keep the rest of my opinions to myself” You hugged him as he said bye to Aurora. Walking back to the F2 paddock, you searched out the old phone number you hadn’t used in a very long time. 

You and Max used to be close because he was good friends with Liam and used to hang around the Hitech garage and being the same age it was easy to get along with him. 

You sat Aurora down on a play mat in the meeting room as you sat to work on quick information before qualifying for the day. Paul walked in a couple of minutes later, sitting down opposite you with his elbows on the table and head resting on his hands 

“Hello there, Mr Aron” You looked at him, and he smiled 

“There’s a guy here to see you” He smirked, and you frowned 

“A guy? Does this guy have a name?” You asked, glancing at Aurora to make sure she’s okay. 

“Max. That’s all he said, but it’s Norris’ friend Max. I can’t remember his last name” He shrugged, getting up and walking out

“Paul” you called, and he stuck his head in through the door 

“Tell him where I am? He knows his way about” You asked with a polite smile 

“Only cause I’ve got to listen to you” You chuckled, turning back to the data finishing up the report you were writing for Paul. There was a knock on the door, and you turned to look at it. A smile grew on your face as you spotted Max waving him in as Aurora waved her hands at the new figure. 

“Hey stranger” He smiled, and you chuckled a little 

“I’m not the stranger. You’re the one that doesn’t visit” 

“Touche” Max nodded, and you motioned him to sit down, to which he sat down next to you 

“Still focused on data, I see” You nodded

“You know I’m a sucker for some good data” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“So how are you doing?” He asked 

“Stressed but happy, I guess” You shrugged 

“How about you? Saw you’ve gained quite a few followers on twitch” You smiled, and he nodded 

“Yeah. Taking a break from racing was really the thing that I needed, and I’m glad I did it” You smiled 

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing better” You nodded as Aurora clapped her hands. You looked down at her, picking her up 

“This little cutie, why you’re stressed?” He asked as Rory grabbed his finger 

“Yeah she’s also the massive favour I need” You bit your lip, and he nodded 

“Need a babysitter?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You’re totally free to say no. I know you’ve never actually met her in person and just seen pictures on instagram, but if you could, I would be so grateful and would pay you back however you wanted” You sighed 

“Can I?” He asked, holding his arms out, and you nodded, handing her over 

“She likes attention, so as long as she’s got that she’s the happiest baby ever” you explained, and he nodded 

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. I just know he would have been the greatest dad” You nodded with a sigh 

“She looks so much like him sometimes it hurts” Max placed a hand on your knee, gently caressing it 

“Sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up” You placed your hand on top of his gently, holding his hand 

“Do you need a babysitter all weekend?” You nodded 

“Unfortunately. I can normally find someone within the team or someone that I know, but unfortunately I’m not able to this weekend” Max nodded 

“Then I’ll watch her all weekend if you need” He smiled, and you hugged him 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” You smiled, letting out a breath 

“But I’m taking her to the Mclaren garage tomorrow” You chuckled 

“Forget about your own past then and go to your future” You joked, and he jokingly shoved you away 

“But honestly, whatever you want in return I’ll do it” You sat back, rubbing your face in relief 

“Go on a date with me” He whispered, and you looked at him

“What?” You asked 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for years and now that you’re due me something in return I feel like now is the perfect time to ask” He hummed with a slight smirk hidden underneath a smile 

“Fine. On Sunday as payment” You nodded, and he smiled, looking at the wall 

“You need to get ready for qualifying. I’ll wait in here with this cutie” He smiled 

“Aurora or Rory. I think you probably already knew that though” Max nodded 

“I did. I follow you on instagram and check up on you every so often” You chuckled, getting up kissing Rory’s head 

“Thank you again, Max. If she needs her diaper changed there’s diapers in my office. Same place that it used to be. She’s been fed, so she’ll be fine until after qualifying. Any other worries, please just text me. Don’t even think about crossing the pit lane” Max nodded 

“Please don’t worry about her. I promise she’ll be okay in my care. Are you okay if I call LN over, though?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Yeah it’s fine” You smiled, grabbing your pass and walking out of the meeting room. You let out a breath, knowing that you could do your job without worrying about Rory. 

And that’s what you did. Paul had a good qualifying session for both the sprint and feature race. Once that was over, you quickly rushed back to the meeting room. Max was sitting on the floor with Rory, who was giggling at him as she pulled on his beard. You chuckled, sitting down at the desk as Max looked up at you 

“She’s a little cutie, but she’s also a trouble child” You nodded with a laugh 

“Did I forget to mention that part?” You joked 

“Do you need me to stay until after the debrief?” Max asked 

“That would be really helpful, but I’m not sure that’s allowed” you replied, and he nodded 

“What if I take her for a walk? Is she due a nap?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Actually that would be really helpful. If I put her in the pram, would you be okay with taking her for a walk?” You asked 

“I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t okay. I can walk her over to the F1 paddock, and you can get her from there when you’re done for the day” He suggested 

“Thank you again, Max. I really appreciate this just being sprung on you after us not talking for ages”

“For this little troublesome cutie I’d do it more often if you needed” You chuckled 

“Trust me, you won’t be saying that by Sunday night” You smiled, grabbing her pram from the side of the room before building it and putting her in it. You gave her her binkie before turning to Max. 

“Okay she should be good until I’m finished for the day” You smiled, and he nodded, walking with her just as everyone started filling the room. After debriefing, you packed up Rory’s toys and your own stuff before walking over to the F1 paddock and over to the Mclaren garage. 

“Hey Y/N” Oscar smiled, standing at his car 

“Hey Oscar. Have you seen Max?” You asked, and he pointed towards Lando’s side of the garage

“Thanks” You walked over and into the garage, smiling at the mechanics that you knew 

“There she is” Max smiled gently, rocking the pram 

“Hey babysitting, looking good on you” you joked, looking into the pram

“She makes it easy” You laughed as he let you take the pram 

“Thank you again. I’ll text you later with my meeting times and all that kind of thing” Max nodded 

“See you tomorrow” You walked out of the Mclaren garage, ready for the best sleep of your week. 

When the next day rolled around and you were walking into the F2 paddock, you knew that Rory was going to be in safe hands and that you just had to be ready for the race ahead. 

Max was standing outside the Hitech garage leaning against one of the walls, talking to one of the mechanics he knew as Rory played with our hands strapped to your chest 

“Hey Y/N” Max smiled as you walked over 

“Hey there, Mr Babysitter” you joked

“Is the nugget ready for her big day with lots of affection?” Max asked, and you nodded 

“She sure is, but I’m gonna keep her for the morning if that’s okay” Max nodded 

“Of course it is. Want me there?” He asked 

“If you don’t mind sitting on the floor with her again” Max shook his head 

“Would be my pleasure” You smiled, leading him inside and to the meeting room that was going to be used for the day. Setting up Rory’s stuff on the floor before setting her on the floor beside Max 

“Thank you again Max” You smiled, and he nodded. Sitting down to do morning brief, Paul walked in, instantly going over to Aurora

“Hey maiustus (sweets)” Paul smiled, squishing her cheeks

“Paul please sit down, the whole team is just waiting on you” You complained and he sat down going over yesterday’s data and things that had to be done today to get a good finish in the sprint. 

Once all the other members of the team had finally left, you turned around to Rory. Paul was still sitting next to you as he scrolled through his phone, definitely avoiding his trainer but not wanting to admit it. Rory reached her arms up with a giggle as you picked her up 

“Hey little troublemaker” You kissed her head as you got up from the seat, Max, stretching his back as you chuckled at him 

“I know I said she needs attention to be happy, but you don’t have to sit on the floor with her” You smiled as he got up 

“Easier to get down to her level rather than bring her up to mine” He shrugged 

“She likes sitting on the table” you shrugged, closing the meeting room door and pulling the blinds down so that no one could see in as you heard Paul whine 

“Thought you were hiding me, but I just saw the time” You laughed, ruffling his hair as you sat down again 

“You really need to go start your warm up and do media though Paul” You sighed, feeding Rory as Paul groaned, getting up 

“Only cause I wanna win” You laughed as Max stood awkwardly 

“You can sit Fewtrell” You chuckled at his face. Poor guy was uncomfortable even being in the same room as you fed Aurora. 

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable” He frowned, and you shrugged 

“I’ve been doing this for the past four months with strangers. We’re not strangers. Therefore, I don’t care” you replied, looking up at him as he sat down. 

A little while later, Aurora was finished feeding, burped, and had her diaper changed before you handed her over to Max for the day who was taking her over to the Mclaren motorhome. You explained where everything in her bag was kept along with how to warm some milk up in case she needed it. Max assured you multiple times that she would be okay and that you could just come to the Mclaren garage to get her at the end of the day. 

Throughout the day, Max was subject to some teasing from Lando about his babysitting as Lando knew about his crush on you and had for many years. 

Once the race and debrief were done, you were finally able to leave the F2 paddock with Paul trailing behind you because he didn’t want to be alone again. In reality, he was hiding from the ice bath he was meant to be in, but he’d never admit that to anyone. 

“Hey Y/L/N” Andrea Stella smiled as you walked over to the Mclaren garage 

“Hey. I’m looking for Lando. Well I’m assuming he’s with Lando” You shrugged 

“Oh he’s in the hospitality with Max and a random child?” He frowned, and you nodded 

“Perfect. That’s my second born” you joked, nudging your head in Paul’s direction. Andrea laughed 

“I’m on three or so now” He joked, and you laughed 

“They learn to listen any better any time?” You asked, and he shook his head with a laugh 

“No. Never” You laughed, shaking your head 

“Damn it. Well I’m gonna find my baby and her newest babysitters” You walked off to the Mclaren hospitality with Paul trailing behind you, scrolling through his phone. You walked inside, looking about as Paul instantly walked over to Rory, picking her up off the table. You followed him over, rolling your eyes as Paul picked up his role with Rory. 

At this point, Paul was like Rory’s big brother, and there was nothing you could do to stop how much he actually loved your little girl. You took another picture as you leaned against the chair Max was sitting in, smiling at Lando, and Oscar was sitting opposite him. 

“Hey. Looked like a good race” Max smiled up at you as you nodded 

“Hey. It was a very good race considering the pit stop errors” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“How was Aurora?” You asked him, looking over at Paul and Aurora

“Think I’ve got a bald spot in my beard now. However, apart from that, she was an angel” Max shrugged, showing you a picture of Rory sitting in Lando’s car. You chuckled 

“If she looked tiny in the F2 cars, she looked even smaller in that F1 car” You chuckled, and he laughed 

“You in a rush out of here?” Max asked, and you shook your head 

“Nope. I do need to stop by and see Liam, though. Wish him luck for tomorrow” You shrugged, and Max pulled out the seat next to him, and you sat down

“Still wouldn’t move up to F1?” Oscar asked, and you looked over at Rory and Paul, who were sat on the floor 

“I think if Paul was to move up, then I would, but only with Paul, he actually listens to me” You glared at Max, who shrugged 

“I wasn’t your driver. I was just there to annoy you” Max shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Over the next half an hour, you spoke with Lando, Max, and Oscar, but Lando and Oscar soon had to go get ready for qualifying, so it was just you and Max. Paul was rocking Aurora to sleep as you watched him with a tilt of your head. 

“I keep losing my daughter to my driver” You chuckled, getting up

“Same time tomorrow?” Max asked, and you nodded

“Only if you’re still okay with looking after her for another day” You rested a hand on the back of his seat. Max was doing you a favour, and you didn’t want to push him to do something he wasn’t completely comfortable with. 

“Yeah, of course I’m okay with it. Actually I’m more than okay with it because I get something out of this as well” He smiled looking up at you to the outside world it looked like he was deadly in love but to yourself it just looked like Max was happy.

Sunday was always a busy day. However, this weekend just felt like it was an even busier day. Sat in your office, Aurora sat in her pram asleep as you sat with your headphones in going over some basic work you didn’t hear Max come in. 

He stood next to you, gently pushing a piece of hair out of your face as you sat back in your seat, looking up at him when you felt his presence standing next to you. You smiled up to him, taking your headphones off 

“Morning” He smiled, taking the pen out of your hand and placing it down on the table 

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in” You hummed, looking up at him after following his actions with the pen 

“That’s because you were so caught up in your work that you didn’t hear anything, including Paul” You frowned, looking at the time. You hadn’t missed any meetings or events that you were due to be at. 

“It’s fine he just wanted to see if you wanted anything to eat” You nodded slightly 

“I had breakfast before coming here” You looked at the time again as Max sat down next to you 

“I’m gonna take Aurora a walk around the paddock then into Mclaren, and I was thinking that you could always come watch the F1 race with me from there?” He offered, and you nodded 

“I quite like the sound of that” You smiled, tilting your head slightly 

“And I was thinking about our date” He started, and you quickly interrupted him 

“Can we do it back home? My flight out of here is tonight, and I can’t get it changed unless I pay for it and after” You paused, glancing over at Rory 

“Let me worry about that. I’m the one that asked you out on the date, so I’ll worry about that” He smiled, gently resting his hand on top of yours. 

“So how’s the little darling today?” He asked, looking over at Aurora’s pram. 

“She’s quite sleepy today, so bonus for you, I guess. However, it's just because she’s starting to teeth, so she might get a little fussy or bite you” You shrugged, and he nodded, getting up just as Paul and his trainer walked in Paul was clearly in a mood about something as you raised your eyebrows. 

Max played with your hair as he stood behind you, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. He used to do that when Liam was your driver a few years ago. It’s like to this day even after limited contact, he still knew when you were hiding your stress 

“He won’t let me have a chocolate bagel” Paul huffed, throwing himself down on the chair Max was previously in as you looked at his trainer who shrugged 

“Too many carbs before a race. Especially when it’s half an hour away. I suggested alternatives, but that wasn’t good enough” The man just shrugged before turning and walking out the room, clearly not wanting to have this fight again

“Paul, we've been over this. You can’t come expecting me to solve your carb problem. I’ve already snuck you enough this weekend as it is. Why don’t you have a smoothie? I know you’re just bored, which is why you’re eating” Paul gave you a look as if you’d just suggested murdering his whole family. 

“You can get me and Max one while you’re there” you suggested, knowing that Paul would do anything for anyone else if offered the opportunity, so Paul got up and left the room again. You looked up at Max the top of your head resting against his stomach 

“I know I asked you on a date and agreed to babysit your child, but have I ever told you how good you look doing your job?” He asked, and you raised a brow thinking about it 

“I believe you may have back when I was a taken woman” You shrugged with a slight smirk 

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He asked as you tilted your head to the side a little, turning around to fully face him 

“Me? Never? That’s all Aurora, and she doesn’t even get it from me” you joked, and he laughed, looking down at you. You couldn’t help but smile up at him. 

“How long does it take for Paul to get some smoothies?” Max asked, and you shrugged

“No idea? In a rush to go somewhere?” You questioned, and he shook his head 

“No. Was just wondering” You nodded, turning back to the data, and he sighed, sitting down 

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” He questioned 

“Nope. I am not. I need to get this finished before the race starts” You sighed as he moved your hands away from the laptop and shut the lid, forcing you to look at him 

“If I was to kiss you right now, would it stop stressing out about the data?” He asked as your eyes widened

“What did you just ask?” You questioned 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. I didn’t mean to say that out loud” He panicked as you turned to fully face him, leaning forward in your seat 

You looked into his eyes, trying to see any kind of emotion behind them to make sure what he was saying was actually true. You got up out of your seat, taking his hand and giving him a slight pull-up as you did. Max stood up, standing in front of you 

“Sorry. I really didn’t mean to say that” You leaned up, pressing your lips against his with a slight smile. Max froze for a second before kissing you back. One hand resting on the small of your back as the other stayed in your own. 

“Ew” Paul groaned loudly before there were a couple of thuds and the door slamming. You pulled back, looking over Max’s shoulder to see Paul covering his eyes outside. You couldn’t help but laugh a little 

“I get a life for the moment, and that’s how he reacts” Max laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder as he rested his own on your head. You waved Paul in through the window as Max rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but laugh a little again as Paul walked back in carefully 

“Warning next time, come on. With Rora in here as well?!” He exclaimed. You rolled your eyes as he picked Aurora, shielding her face from who knows what. Only he’ll ever know because it’s not a question that you were planning on asking him anytime soon. 

“I got your normal and for Max, I just guessed” Paul pointed towards the smoothies on the table 

“Thank you. Now, will you please put Rory back down and go warm up. I promise you can cuddle her after the race. Promise” You smiled, and he nodded, placing her down and walking out as you sat back down, turning to look at Max 

“Well if Paul’s away getting ready, I guess I have to let you get ready” He smiled, looking into the pram at Aurora. 

“Same as yesterday, but I’ve left a bottle in her bag. You just need to warm it up a little bit” you explained, and he nodded slightly 

“How do I do that?” He asked, and you chuckled, walking over 

“So take the plastic cover off ,obviously, then just put it in the microwave for like thirty seconds but make sure that it’s lukewarm on the inside of your wrist” Max’s head quickly turned around at that and you rolled your eyes with a laugh 

“It’s just formula, Max. Don’t worry, I just pre-made it for you” Max nodded, picking up her blanket and placing it over the handle of the pram. 

“Okay. We should be okay. If need be, I can text you, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Of course you can. Oh, and in the diaper bag next to her bottle there’s a little something for you” You smiled, leaning into the pram and pressing a kiss to Aurora’s head. 

“We’ll be good,” Max nodded with some kind of fake courage. You smiled 

“Be good for Maxie hmm” You kissed the babies head before standing up again and taking the few steps over to Max, who smiled down at you as you rested your chin on his chest 

“Don’t worry. Go do your job. We’ll be watching, or I will. The little muffin will probably be sleeping” You grinned, standing up on your tiptoes just a little to kiss him. You grabbed your computer before walking out of your office and out to the garage. 

“Did you get my email?” Oliver asked, and you nodded 

“I did. Congratulations. You’ll do good in F1” You smiled, shaking his hand as a congratulations 

“Thank you. There will be an email coming your way soon, no doubt” You couldn’t help but frown at that as Oliver walked away. Getting everything set up for Paul’s race both in the garage and the pit wall before the pre race mechanical stuff happened while you just sat there waiting.

Max did keep sending you pictures throughout the race that you couldn’t help but smile at when the notification kept coming through. Paul’s race went brilliantly as good as it could possibly get as Paul won. After the podium, you got yourself changed out of the wet Hitech uniform as Paul decided to pour the last of the champagne over your head during the pictures.

 You packed up everything after the debrief and headed over to the Mclaren hospitality again. It currently felt like you were never away from that place. As you walked through the paddock, you couldn’t help but still wonder what Oliver meant by there will be an email for you soon. It really did worry you a bit. 

You smiled at the woman standing outside the hospitality before walking in and spotting Max sitting in the corner with Aurora asleep in his arms all cuddled up. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat down on the couch next to him 

“Oh how I wish I could fall asleep like that” You sighed, and he chuckled 

“She’s been out for about twenty minutes. I gave her her bottle and she just fell asleep” You nodded 

“Sounds about right” You smiled, looking down at her. Her cheek pressed against Max’s chest as her tiny hand held onto one of his fingers. You couldn’t help but take a picture as you watched them. 

“Race went really well” Max grinned as you looked at him 

“It went really well. I’m so proud” you beamed. Eyes flicking down to Aurora 

“Do you want me to take her? She’s okay if you want to put her down in the pram” You frowned, knowing how easy it is to get a dead arm while holding her 

“She’s okay. I’m actually enjoying the cuddles rather than her pulling my beard out” You chuckled, caressing her cheek. 

“You still want to stay to watch the race?” He asked, tilting his head so he could see you better

“Yeah that would be nice” You grinned, getting more comfortable on the couch, knowing that Max wasn’t planning on moving to watch the race by the way he was sitting. Max smiled down at you, looking at your emails 

“Oliver said there’d be an email coming my way soon. Now I can’t stop looking at my emails” You sighed 

“Oliver Oakes?” Max questioned, and you nodded 

“Any idea what it was about?” Max asked, and you shook your head 

“Honestly, I have no idea. As long as I’m not being fired” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“I’d comfort you, but your daughter has stolen both my hands” You laughed 

“There’s worse ways for you to have your hands stolen” you replied 

“Guess that’s true” He smiled 

You sat for the next two hours with Max in the Mclaren hospitality watching the Formula One race. It was an experience you’d never actually forget. Not even just because you were sitting in the F1 paddock but because Max’s reactions to something so tiny were so large. 

As you were walking out the paddock with Aurora in her pram, Max walked next to you while Lando and Oscar trailed behind Max, turned his head to look at you

“I sent you an email during the race with the details for our date and for after it” You frowned 

“After it?” You asked, and he nodded 

“Got you on the flight with Lando and I so you could spend another night here” He explained 

“You didn’t have to do that” you replied 

“I know I didn’t have to, but I saw the perfect place for a date here. Couldn’t let it go to waste” He smiled

Coming Soon

Tag List

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[teenytinyjimin]

baroque (j. jungkook)

summary: masquerade balls are all fun and games until you meet that one person that you feel like you’ve known for a lifetime, but regardless as to who he is, you can’t just let him go.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.4k

tags: masquerade, mystery, academia/renaissance/baroque (i know these are all different but its a little combination), ballroom dancing, reader is absolutely in love with this mystery man she’s dancing with, and he’s kinda in love with her too, spoiler: they know each other, kissing of course!

warnings: none

author’s note: IM BACK! IM SO SORRY BUT IM BACK! anyways i hope u guys enjoy! my last kook fic got a lot of traction so thank u so much <3 so i hope this is up to par with that one :)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

As you stood at the steps to the entrance of one of the largest ballrooms in town, you took a deep sigh. This wasn't a sigh of distress, however, it was more of a sigh of anticipation.

Balls weren't necessarily a thing of the 21st century. Had it been, say, four-hundred or five-hundred years prior, a ball would be the talk of the town and absolutely everyone would be flooding into the ballroom to have the time of their lives dancing with one another. Alas, it was 2024, and the only people you'd see attending a ball nowadays would be people who are actively interested in Renaissance and Baroque culture and seek rare events pertaining to such.

There was something about these classical time periods that felt ageless and beautiful to you. The big gowns, glimmering jewels, and elaborate ballroom designs were absolutely gorgeous. So of course you were going to indulge in as much classical beauty as possible in modern times. And that meant going to balls whenever you could (or, in other words, whenever you were able to hear about them through the grapevine).

So here you were, in your elaborate Renaissance dress, staring at the entrance ahead of you. This particular ball was a masquerade ball, so it was even more exciting considering the fact that most everyone would be anonymously dancing behind beautifully decorated masks. You looked down at your own mask in hand, a beautiful and ornate piece strewn with jewels, glitter, and feathers. You had spent the last week perfecting the mask and had gone through nearly a dozen prototypes before you created what you thought was the best piece of work you had ever done in your twenty-something years of living. It was beautiful, and it would do a perfect job of hiding exactly what needed to be hidden to make this masquerade a true mystery for you.

Fastening the mask over your head and onto your face, you began to ascend the steps and enter the ballroom. As anticipated, the venue was covered in beautiful Renaissance artwork and ornate chandeliers. The marble pillars holding the place together really brought everything to life as they echoed the Roman influence that they possessed into the large room. Ahead of you was a sea of elaborate gowns and tuxedos, all spinning around in harmony as they danced with one another to the beautiful orchestral music that played.

"A glass of champagne, miss?" A voice called out from next to you. You looked over to see a masked waiter with a tray of champagne flutes in his hand. You gave him a polite nod and curtsy as you took a glass from him. Champagne wasn't necessarily your drink of choice, however you needed something to keep you company while you waited for a good opportunity to join the dancing or, alternatively, until you were asked to dance.

As you approached the floor of the ball, navigating through the sea of dancing people, you attempted to find someone you may have recognized. Sure, masquerades made it rather difficult to identify a person and thus it was quite hard to know if you knew anyone anyway, but it was worth a shot for the sake of socializing. For the most part, everyone seemed pretty invested in their partners, committing to the elaborate ballroom dance that was taking place to the sound of a piano and violin.

Within a matter of moments, you suddenly found yourself on the ground as you had accidentally run directly into another individual. You looked up to see a gloved hand reach down to you, begging for your touch so that it could help you to your feet once again. As you obliged, you realized the body to which the hand was connected was much stronger than you had anticipated as you practically flew back to your feet. A little lightheaded from the rush of movement, you swayed for a moment and tried to find your footing, but the hand that previously helped you was now firmly on your waist as a form of support.

You brushed off your dress once you found yourself more stable, a bright red blush creeping to your cheeks. "I'm so sorry-" You began before looking up to the person in front of you. Something about his presence left you fascinated – He was tall with wide shoulders and toned arms, something you could immediately notice through his tight-fitting shirt. Despite being fit to his body, his shirt was beautiful and contained all sorts of frills and jewels. Only one of his hands were gloved, as the other one was covered in bracelets and rings of a particularly ornate design. He had the most beautiful chain necklaces wrapped around his neck which perfectly suited his beautiful jawline, which was both sharp and soft at the same time. His lips, a perfect amount of plump, were curled into a soft smile which made him a lot less intimidating than he seemed. When you finally saw his eyes, you were met with the most beautiful black orbs that were wide with wonder and amazement. You could've sworn that you've seen those eyes somewhere, as they reminded you of all the comfort you had ever felt in your life, but you couldn't quite put them to a face you recognized. Though this man's face was hidden behind a beautiful mask, you could tell that he was breathtaking in every sense of the word.

"Are you okay?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you. There was no way you were going to escape his gaze, not because he wouldn't let you but also because you didn't want to. You nodded softly as you continued awkwardly brushing off your dress, unsure of how to speak to the man in front of you. The soft smile that was once on his face now grew to a more toothy grin as he took your hand in his and gently pressed your knuckles to his lips. "If you'd like to make it up to me, I'd love to dance with you."

How were you meant to say no to him? Besides the fact that he had quite literally left you speechless, everything about him was absolutely gorgeous and you'd never turn down an offer to dance with someone like him. As you once again responded with a nod, you felt as he used the hand he had wrapped around your waist to guide you further into the crowd of people and to a more open area where you could properly dance. Once there, he pulled you slightly closer to him as he took your hand in his free one. You naturally placed your other hand upon his bicep, which was tense under your touch, and he began to guide you into a waltz-style dance. It felt as if this came naturally to him as you effortlessly swayed around. You continued to stare into his beautiful doe eyes which shimmered with fantasy as they quite literally pierced into your soul. Whoever this man was, he was perfect in every sense of the word. He was just so perfect.

"You look absolutely stunning, by the way. I'm not sure if I mentioned that," He said after a moment, causing you to blush and look away. "I could say the same about you," You responded quietly, letting yourself feel the air around you blow through your hair. "Thank you for helping me up, by the way. This dress is difficult to maneuver in when you're on the ground."

"It's my pleasure. After all, we bumped into each other. I had an obligation. I wasn't going to let a beautiful girl fend for herself on the ground as a bunch of people danced all over her." You looked back over to him and let out a soft giggle, watching as a grin rose to his face. Something about him was just so warm and inviting, yet you couldn't put your finger on what it was. Perhaps you two knew each other in a past life, one in which you were actually attending balls together in the Renaissance.

"I bet you call a lot of girls at these sorts of things beautiful. I mean, look at you." You say in a teasing tone, watching as his grin dropped to a smirk. "Bold of you to assume that I go to these dances very often, miss." He lets out a soft sigh as he continues to effortlessly sway you around, refusing to stop staring at you. "But even if I did, you're the most breathtaking of them all. Honest."

You remove your hand from his as you bring both hands to rest on the back of his neck, attempting to push yourself closer to him so you can talk a little quieter. "You seem like a pro, do you really not go to balls very often?" He shrugs under your touch as he wraps both arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "Not really. This is my first time coming to this place at least. I'm more of a contemporary dancer."

"Ah, I see," You say softly, letting one of your hands feel at the hair on the back of his neck. He lets out a hitched breath at your touch but continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "It's a beautiful venue, though. It feels like we're in the 1700s and not the 2000s." He comments, looking up briefly at the chandelier above the two of you. You couldn't help but agree. Sometimes when you go to events like these you forget about the chaos of life and pretend that you're still in the Renaissance, which is beautiful in and of itself.

"Have you been on the balcony yet? It has a beautiful view of the city if you want to go take a look," You propose, looking back down at the man in your arms. You watch as his eyes soften and a small smile grows on his lips, pulling away so he can offer you his hand. "You lead the way," He says as you take your hand in his and gently pull him away from the crowd.

As soon as you reached the fresh air of the empty balcony, the two of you stood in silence as you admired the shimmering lights of the city in front of you. "Wow..." He muttered, clearly surprised at the sight in front of him. "You can see pretty much everything from here. How is that possible?" You approach the railing of the balcony and lean against it, taking a moment to look around. "The ballroom is on a hill, even though it doesn't really feel like it. It's actually above the rest of the town so the balcony is able to look down on everything around us."

"I hate to say it, but it seems like I might have found something more beautiful than you." Letting out a small gasp, you turn around to face the man behind you, noticing a huge grin on his face. You smile in return. "I guess I don't blame you. A good view beats a pretty face any day."

"Mmm." He hums, approaching you slowly. He secures his hands on your waist as he picks you up with ease and places you on the railing, keeping contact with you at all times to ensure that you don't fall. Once you are steady on the railing he wraps both arms around you and presses himself tightly to you for extra support, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to stay safe. "I'm only joking anyway. I don't think it's possible to be more beautiful than you."

"Well, I think you're living proof of that, because you're definitely more beautiful than me," You mumble as the distance between your faces becomes much shorter than it once was. He lets out a breathy laugh as he removes one of his arms from your waist and attaches his hand to your face, stroking it gently before closing the gap completely and bringing you in for a kiss.

Kissing someone under the stars is one thing, but kissing someone mysteriously under the stars is another thing. You have no idea who this man is, you don't even know his name, yet here you are, lips connected to his. This is perhaps the best kiss you have ever experienced, as he is so soft yet so passionate with his movements. He never once lets go of you with his other hand, keeping you secure on the railing so that you don't accidentally slip. The one on your face is so soft and gentle, holding onto your face in the most perfect way. It is only now that you are able to really breathe in his scent, an obviously expensive cologne that you would kill to drown in at this point. He was consuming every part of you and you wanted him and only him.

The two of you pulled away briefly so that he could stare into your eyes for a moment. "You really are breathtaking," He mumbled, fiddling with the bottom edge of your mask. As he began to slowly pull it off of your face, you watched as his expression went from lovestruck to shocked. It looked as if seeing your face without the mask scared him. He didn't like how you looked.

"I'm sorry-" You begin to say, tears welling up in your eyes. However he stops you as he takes his own mask off, revealing a face that you could never forget. Jeon Jungkook. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had a crush on for years several years ago. He wasn't disgusted by how you looked. He was shocked that it was you.

"Jungkook?" You said breathlessly, unable to say anything beyond his name. He only stared at you in response, unsure of what his own next move would be. This wasn't something you had ever expected. Not the whole 'kissing your childhood best friend' part, but the fact that somehow in an event of anonymity, you would find your way to each other. And now that you have shared this night together, it's almost as if all the feelings you ever felt for him over the years have flooded back to you as you once again felt head-over-heels for him.

Finally, you watched as a toothy smile returned to his face. He placed his hand once again on your cheek and brushed it as you watched him admire your features. "Thank god it's you. I've been waiting for this moment for years," He mumbled before pulling you in again for another kiss.

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l four

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After a few weeks, Joel finally realizes that he can’t stay away from you and he gives into his desires; Ellie and Dina start getting closer; you give Joel a special gift that once belonged to your father.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL AND VERBAL ABUSE. reader gets slapped. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. infidelity, implied infertility (reader), mutual pining and yearning, Ellie and Dina interaction.

Word Count: 7k

July, 2024

About twenty three and a half days.

That’s the longest that Joel Miller can stand to bear without seeing you again, and even then, he’d found that amount of time to be too goddamn fucking long for his liking—each and every single minute of those twenty three and a half days felt like an eternity to him. Joel had lost count of the number of times he had almost caved, almost scratched that overwhelming itch he had to seek you out, to satisfy his craving as if he were a recovering addict going through withdrawals and all he needed was a good fix to feel better again. Hell, the more he thought it over in his mind, the more he’d started to realize that wasn’t all that far off. You actually were something of a drug to him, and even though he’d only had a mere taste of what being with you could be like, he was already hooked on the feeling. One hit of you was all it had taken and now he’s a fiend and he wants more of you—he needs more of you or he’ll surely lose his mind.

Exhaling a labored breath, Joel reaches up as he wipes at his damp brow with the back of his hand. The sun is sweltering, beating down on him hard.

July had arrived, and with it came along the most unbearable and unforgiving heat. Winter had been cruel, but summer had decided she wouldn’t be all that much kinder. While Joel appreciated not having to trudge knee deep through the snow, he wasn’t too sure if he would prefer that over the way his denim shirt stuck to him uncomfortably, clinging to his skin like cellophane. He’d been used to it in his first life, having been born and raised in Texas—twenty one years later, he had discovered that he was no longer accustomed to these kind of blistering temperatures. 

After returning from his early morning patrol shift, Joel had stopped by Main Street, popping into the market to pick up some vegetables to make dinner—he’d also gotten some fruit for Ellie. As it turned out, she had quite the sweet tooth. She had gone through about a week’s worth of apples and berries in just a couple of days, but luckily he had enough food rations left over for the week to pick up some more for her. Once he’d finished and left the market, he found himself walking over towards the horse stables instead of heading back to the house like he should have. He really should have gone home, but after twenty three and a half days of fighting his temptation as best he could, Joel realized it was useless. 

Most, if not all, of his thoughts began and ended with you.

Sure, Ellie would mention you here and there over their shared meals together, and even though she had assured him that you seemed to be doing just fine, it wasn’t enough for Joel. It wasn’t even close to being enough. He had to see you for himself. He needed to talk to you, even if it meant running the risk of Tommy finding out. He wouldn’t be too happy about it, but if anything, Joel could use the excuse that he’d just stopped in to check up on Ellie. She had become something of your little helper, taking on the role of a stable hand after Maria had assigned one of the other hands to work in the mess hall. You’d needed the extra help and Ellie had been willing. She had to contribute and she liked being around you, so it worked out in everyone’s favor.

In reality, Joel trusted you with Ellie and he didn’t need to check up on her knowing she was in safe, capable hands—but the opportunity to use the kid as leverage presented itself and he’d be a fool not to take it.

He walks into the stables and starts making his way down along the open stalls, peeking into each one until he finds you—alone—in the second to last stall with his brother’s horse, Ranger. You’re leaning forward slightly, a look of complete concentration on your face as you firmly press the diaphragm of the stethoscope you’re using to the animal’s side and listen. After a minute, you hum and gently tug the earpieces, draping the instrument around your neck as you stand upright and pull out the wooden clipboard you’re holding underneath your arm. 

Joel’s breath audibly catches in the back of his throat, an intense, fiery blaze burning deep in his belly as he drinks the sight of you in. The heat isn’t being any kinder to you than it is to him—you’re sweating profusely and your pale pink camisole is drenched and clings to your body, accentuating each and every curve. Every inch of exposed skin is beaded with drops of perspiration that you’d all but given up on trying to wipe away. You let it drip freely, allow it to run down the sides of your face, neck—it trickles down your chest and between your soft, supple breasts. 

He swallows dryly, trying painfully to ignore the way his cock twitches against the zipper of his jeans as devilish thoughts begin creeping into his mind. Shoving them away, Joel enters the stall and says your name.

You look up at him, eyebrows raising.

Though you seem oddly surprised to see him, you still offer him a kind smile. “Well, hey there stranger. Long time no see.” You pause briefly, shifting your attention back down to your clipboard. Taking a pencil from the back pocket of your faded blue jeans, you start to scribble down your findings on the piece of paper attached to it. “You know, I was starting to think that maybe you were avoiding me or something, Miller.” Although you’d said it in a joking manner, he detects the hint of seriousness in your tone.

Joel shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a sheepish expression on his face. “M’real sorry ‘bout that, darlin’. I just had a lot goin’ on over the last couple weeks. Got real busy,” he fibs, feeling like nothing short of a complete jackass for lying to you. “I, uh—I had to do a whole lotta fixin’ up around the house, for starters. Between that, workin’ patrol, and takin’ care of Ellie, I had both my hands full for a minute there.”

“Well, if you’re here to check up on her, she’s outside in the paddock with Dina right now. They’re hand walking Luna for me,” you say, jabbing your pencil over towards the open stall window. Squinting, he sees the two teenagers out in the paddock, walking along on either side of a white horse, both girls observing the animal’s movements carefully with every step that she takes. You smile once again, though you keep your eyes fixed on your clipboard as you continue jotting down your notes. “Funny enough, if I weren’t so thrilled those two ended up being such good friends, I would actually feel kind of offended that Ellie’s spending a lot more of her time with Dina than she is with me. I guess I have officially been replaced.” You feign a look of hurt, causing him to chuckle. “She’s doing fine, but you’re more than welcome to go out there and check on her. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re here.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Actually, I came down here ‘cause I wanted to see you,” Joel blurts without thinking. Heat suddenly prickles at his ears.

You stop writing and your head snaps up in slight shock as you repeat in disbelief, “You wanted to see me?”

He nods in admission. “Yeah. I did. Besides, the stables are on the way to the house from the market. Figured it would be the perfect time to stop in and say hello,” he explains, unable to hide the slight nervous edge to his tone as he steps closer towards you. Joel’s closeness prompts a curious little sniff from Ranger, whom he would borrow for patrol from time to time when Tommy was on a different rotation. His brother wasn’t all too fond of anyone taking his beloved horse, but he’d made an exception for Joel. He pats the stallion on his thick, muscular neck. “Hope that’s alright with you.”

Nibbling on your lower lip, a strange feeling blossoms inside your stomach, a fluttering feeling—as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies had just taken flight inside of you. “Of course that’s alright,” you finally reply. Peering at the canvas tote bag slung over his forearm, you ask, “Did you get anything good at the market today?”

He shrugs. “Just some carrots and potatoes for dinner. Oh, and some fruit for the kid. Apples, berries—even got some peaches for her to try.”

Your mouth falls open slightly and there’s an excited glimmer in your eyes. “They have peaches?”

Wyoming hadn’t really been known for its peaches due to the extreme frigid temperatures during the winter months that would often lead to what you’d learned from Martha was called a spring freeze. It didn’t affect all of the plants and trees in Jackson, but there were a few species that simply could not survive the damage caused by the cold, bitter frost—peach trees happened to be one of them. You had seen a couple of the trees that were planted around the community, but only once had you ever seen them come into fruition. The first and last time you had seen peaches available at the market had been three summers ago.

Joel nods. “Yeah. Martha mentioned a couple of the trees survived the freeze durin’ the bloom period. Pointed me towards the bin and said they were picked fresh earlier this afternoon.” Digging his hand into the bag, he pulls one out to show you. He then offers it to you, holding it out in the palm of his hand. “Here, darlin’.”

Shaking your head, you politely decline. “No, I couldn’t. I know they’re meant for Ellie—”

“Relax, peach.” A small grin tugs at Joel’s lips as he continues holding it out to you. “I got plenty for her. Go on, take it.”

You flash him an appreciative smile. Setting down the clipboard on the two step mounting block behind you, you turn back to him and accept it, your fingers brushing his open palm as you take it from him. You eagerly bite into the fruit, groaning loudly as the sweetness of it coats your tongue and sends your taste buds flying into the clouds. The peach is perfect, right in between being too firm and too ripe. “This is amazing,” you say incredulously through a mouthful, prompting Joel to laugh. “It’s so good.”

You take a second bite and gasp when it pops in your mouth, its sticky juice trickling out of the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin. Before you even have the chance to lift a finger, Joel reaches out and he gingerly wipes the juice away with his thumb.

Freezing momentarily, your eyes widen as he continues to sweep his finger across your bottom lip. 

“Had a little somethin’ there,” Joel murmurs.

Nervously, you finish chewing your mouthful of peach and swallow harshly, as if the fruit had turned into glass. You thought he would withdraw his hand by now, but instead, he moves it and cradles the side of your face in his palm. You can’t help but wince—his touch is gentle, but you haven’t been touched there like this in a long, long time. In fact, any time that a hand met your cheek lately, it was in a rough and painful strike.

“Joel,” you shakily breathe out his name. Your eyes momentarily flutter closed and you tilt your head to the side, sinking right into his large hand.

Push him away, you silently urge yourself. Don’t be stupid. Push him away.

But you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You stand there and continue melting into his touch.

He echoes your thoughts. “Tell me to back off,” Joel whispers, grazing the soft, delicate skin of your cheekbone with his thumb.

Your eyes fly open, lips parting slightly when you meet his gaze. When you speak, you hardly recognize the timid little voice that comes out of you. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, darlin’. Tell me to back off.”

He’s standing closer, much too close. So close that you can count every single gray that’s speckled in his beard—so close that you finally notice the small scar on his right temple.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to take an even breath.

He waits, but you say nothing.

Joel leans down, bringing his face closer towards yours. Still cradling your cheek in his hand, he lightly starts skimming the other side of your face with the tip of his nose. He trails it down your jawline, drawing closer and closer to the corner of your mouth—that’s where he pauses. It’s only for a second, but to you, that one second feels like an eternity. He pulls back slightly, giving you one last chance to push him away, to tell him that you’re not okay with this—to tell him to stop. When he’s met with nothing but a small, needy whimper, he moves in to close the remaining gap of space between your bodies. Heart pounding, he takes the final leap and captures your mouth with his in a tentative kiss. 

He tastes the sweetness of the peach on your lips mixed together with the saltiness of sweat and you taste something else too—something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s heavenly. He yearns for more, nearly aches for a chance to explore every inch of that pretty little mouth of yours. He wants something deeper, something more, but when he remembers that you’re in a public space in broad fucking daylight, he has no other choice but to pull himself away from you.

“Joel,” you whisper his name, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you again. You almost find the guts to ask him when the sound of Ellie and Dina calling out your name startles you both, causing you to jump apart and tear away from each other.

The girls enter the stall just a second later.

They’re both sweating, their faces flushed from the heat. 

“Joel? What are you doing here?” Ellie asks him, confused. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him around the stables.

Joel shrugs, nervously touching a hand to the back of his burning neck.

“Just came in to check on you, kiddo. S’all.”

Ellie glances between the two of you, arching an eyebrow. There’s a strange glint in her brown eyes that tells Joel she knows something had just happened and he’s certain the only reason she isn’t confronting you both about it is because Dina’s standing right beside her, seemingly oblivious to the air of tension in the stall.

“Did you girls need something?” you offer in the steadiest voice you can possibly muster.

“We just came to tell you that Luna is back in her stall. She did really well on her walk. Her back leg doesn’t seem to be bothering her anymore,” Dina informs you. “We also finished with all the grooming for today. All the horses on the list you gave us are all squeaky clean, at least for now.” She smiles. “Is it okay if we call it a day? Ellie wants to come over to my house and hang out for a while.”

“You know Talia likes for you to give her some kind of a heads up when you bring company over,” you remind Dina of her older sister’s house rule.

“Yeah, I know auntie. I asked her permission this morning and she said it was okay.”

You glance at Joel. “As long as it's alright with you.”

“‘Course it is.” He nods and points an index finger at Ellie. “Make sure you’re home in time for dinner, kiddo. That’s my only rule. Understood?”

Before Ellie can respond, Dina beams and takes her arm. “Great! Come on, let’s go!” she exclaims as she all but drags Ellie out of the stall.

Joel waits until he’s sure the girls are gone and turns to you, clearing his throat. “I should—I should probably get on home now.” Pausing, he asks, “I’ll see you around?”

All you can do is give him a tiny nod of your head.

“Okay,” he says, sounding relieved

He turns on the heel of his boot and leaves the stall. 

Joel was playing with fucking fire.

And so were you.

“So tell me, does this town have some kinda weird ass rule that says every teenaged girl’s bedroom has to be fucking pink?” Ellie questions as she takes a glimpse around Dina’s bedroom. Her small nose wrinkles in disgust. The walls are painted a light pink color and it looks similar to her own room—but at the very least the previous owner of her space had thrown some green accents in here and there that made it a little less horrendous.

“What? Is pink not your most favorite color?” Dina teases her with a giggle, shutting her door behind her. She kicks off her boots, setting them next to her closet door.

“Totally,” Ellie deadpans, rolling her eyes at her. She gestures to herself with her hand. “Isn’t it just so obvious?”

Throwing her head back, Dina laughs again.

Ellie’s stomach somersaults. Dina might have been nauseatingly girly, but hell, if she wasn’t one of the prettiest girls Ellie had ever met—smooth golden skin, wide brown eyes, and long black hair that falls all the way down to the small of her back. Ellie had noticed the way several boys around the town would stare at Dina and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had her eye on any of them. Of all the fucking things that Ellie didn’t have the fucking balls for, it was asking her friend if she had a boyfriend or not.

Not that it matters if she does or doesn’t.

Right?

“Make yourself comfortable,” Dina offers, waving a hand around. She grins. “Feel free to snoop.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” She turns towards her writing desk, noticing a yellow flower beside a pile of notebooks. “Well, well, well,” she says, picking it up. She gingerly pinches the stem between her fingers. “A flower, huh? Who’s it from?” Ellie inquires, her back still to her.

Sheepishly, Dina replies, “Oh. That. Um—my friend gave it to me the other day. His name is Jesse.”

Ellie feels a twinge of jealousy stir in her belly. “And who’s that? Your boyfriend or something?”

“No. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She briefly pauses before adding, “Or a girlfriend.”

Freezing on the spot, Ellie holds the flower in a deathgrip. “Oh,” is all she can get herself to say. Throat bobbing, Ellie sets the flower back down on the desk and then turns to look at Dina. The girl flashes her a small, shy smile, causing her stomach to flip again. Awkwardly, Ellie tears her gaze away from her and her eyes flit to the bookshelf in the far corner of her bedroom. “Can I check out your stash?”

“Go for it,” Dina encourages her.

Ellie nods in thanks and pads over to the bookshelf, their shoulders lightly brushing up against each other as she does so. She starts looking at all of her books and one title immediately stands out and catches her attention. “No fucking way!” she exclaims loudly as she plucks it from the shelf. “No Pun Intended: Volume Tree. I can’t believe there’s a third one! Are you fucking serious?”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with Will Livingston and his hilariously terrible puns?”

Ellie grins as she walks over and takes a seat at the foot of Dina’s bed. She flips to the first page and runs her index finger down the list of jokes until she finds one she likes best. “What did the grape say when it got crushed?”

“Nothing,” Dina replies with a casual shrug, taking a seat beside her. “It just let out a little wine.”

She cackles and turns to the next page. “I don’t trust stairs.” She pauses for a dramatic effect and then continues with the punchline. “Because they are always up to something.”

The girls lose themselves in a fit of giggles.

As Ellie continues thumbing through the pages of the joke book, her smile fades slightly—memories of everything that had happened to her in the last year, everything she had been through, the people that she’d lost, it all comes flooding back to her in a huge wave that would have drowned her had Dina and her sweet, gentle voice not come to the rescue.

“El? You alright?”

Ellie turns to her. “El?”

“Yeah.” Dina’s face flushes red. “Is it okay if I call you that?”

Riley used to call her that.

When she’d still been alive.

Realizing that she was still waiting for a reply, Ellie carefully nods her head. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

“By the way,” Dina starts to say, scooting to sit a little closer to her. “About what happened back in the mess hall all those months ago when you first got here—I feel bad about it and I just wanted to apologize for staring at you the way I did. I honestly didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m sorry too. You know, for snapping at you. I got an earful from my old man about it afterwards. He gave me a lecture on manners.” Ellie chuckles and shrugs, her shoulder brushing Dina’s again. She had to resist the sudden urge to lean into her, just like the way she would always lean into Riley. “It’s just that I was so fucking sick of everyone looking at me like I came from another planet. Maria told me it was because I wasn’t like the other kids. She said I was different.” She pauses, nervously chewing her lower lip before asking, “Is that why you were staring at me? Because I’m different?”

“Yeah,” Dina admits. She notices the expression on Ellie’s face and quickly adds, “But that’s not a bad thing, El. Sometimes different is good, you know?

“Nice save, but that still doesn’t make me feel any better,” she mutters sourly.

Dina nudges her in her ribs with her elbow. “Well, would it at least make you feel better to know that I was also staring because I thought that you were cute?”

Ellie’s eyes widen as they meet Dina’s. “You did?”

“I did,” she confirms. She then corrects herself, saying, “I do.”

Dina smiles and leans in, softly brushing a kiss against her lips. It’s gentle and it’s quick but still enough to make Ellie’s heart race inside of her chest.

“Sorry,” she murmurs shyly as soon as she pulls away. She clasps her hands together nervously in her lap as she fixes her gaze on the floor.

Ellie reaches out, placing her hand on both of hers, causing the girl to look back up at her. “Don’t be. I’m sure as fuck not sorry about it at all.”

Relieved, Dina smiles again. 

Ellie squeezes her hands and goes in for a second kiss. “I should probably get home before my old man gets too worried and sends out a fucking search and rescue team for me,” she mutters against her lips, causing her to giggle. She pulls back and stands up, handing the book back to Dina who shakes her head.

“Take it. It’s all yours.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “There’s just one catch to it. I expect you to tell me a joke every single day.”

Nodding, Ellie grins and says, “Fuck yeah, I can do that.”

Several hours later into the evening, you can still feel Joel’s lips on yours—his touch lingers on your skin. It had been burned right into you and it didn’t really matter how hard you tried not to think about it because you had crossed a line that there was no coming back from. His touch, his kiss. You would never find the ability to forget how Joel had made you feel. Not that you’d wanted to forget it.

You didn’t have any regrets about what happened back in the stables. There wasn’t a single ounce of guilt or shame in your bones over it. That terrified you. You had so easily and so willingly let a man who wasn’t your husband kiss you, and you found yourself wanting and needing so much more.

You stand in the shower, allowing the ice cold water to beat down against your back and shoulders. You’d normally prefer a scalding hot shower to help ease the soreness that came after a long day of tending to the horses, but after today, what you had found yourself needing was a frigid shower to cool off.

And it had nothing to do with the staggering summer temperatures.

You shut off the water and grab a towel from a steel towel rack mounted on the wall right next to the shower. Wrapping it around yourself, you carefully step out of the shower and then reach for a second towel from the rack. You dry yourself off before padding into the bedroom where you’d laid out your clothes at the foot of the bed. You tug on a cotton gray tank top, dark denim blue jeans that you’d cut off into shorts yourself, and a pair of old, faded black low top sneakers that were extremely worn out, but much too comfortable to throw away. After haphazardly towel drying your hair, you pull it back into a ponytail.

In a futile attempt to take your mind off Joel Miller and the feeling of his lips on yours, you decided to preoccupy yourself with menial tasks around the house until it was time to start cooking dinner. The fact that you always kept the place clean—damn near spotless—made finding chores to distract you from your thoughts a much bigger challenge than you’d anticipated. God forbid that Luke ever found an unwashed dish in the sink or a speck of dust on the counter—his perfect little wife just had to keep the perfect little home. He wouldn’t allow it to be any other way.

After gathering the load of laundry that you’d had drying out on the clothesline in the backyard, you dumped it all into the large, woven hamper basket and carried it inside and upstairs to the bedroom. Within ten minutes, it had all been folded and put away. Looking for the next thing you could do to keep yourself busy, you noticed a big cardboard box sitting over in a corner of the bedroom. It’s packed with the rest of your winter clothes—it had been several weeks since you’d asked Luke to take it down to the basement and he still hadn’t done it for you.

Rolling your eyes, you pick it up, a labored grunt escaping you when you find the box to be much heavier than you’d remembered it being before. It nearly slips out of your grasp a couple of times, but somehow you manage to make it downstairs without dropping it—or falling. You carefully make your way down into the basement, the old wooden staircase creaking underneath your sneakers with each and every step. Once you’d made it down to the bottom, you haul the box over to the corner of the basement where you set it down with about half a dozen others, most of which were filled with your late father’s belongings.

Luke had been nagging you to get rid of everything to clear up space in the basement, but the thought of getting rid of your father’s things made you sick to your stomach. They were all you had left of him, after all.

As you glance around the dimly lit basement, an object nestled against the pile of cardboard boxes catches your attention. It’s a black leather guitar case. Letting out a curious hum, you drop to one knee and lay it flat on the ground, opening it only to find your father’s brown, classical Gibson he’d been gifted the year before he’d died by members of the town. He’d always been fond of music, and before the outbreak happened, he would play his guitar for you and your younger brother almost every single night, right after supper. When word spread that his illness was terminal, the kind folks of Jackson surprised him with the instrument, hoping it would bring him at least a little bit of joy in the time he had left. And it truly had. Even as a woman nearing your thirties, you’d found yourself sitting cross legged on the floor of your dad’s living room staring up at him in wonder as he would play his old favorite songs for you on the acoustic guitar—in those moments, you had felt like a child again.

You’d felt happy. Safe.

You brush the guitar strings lightly with your fingertips.

Suddenly, you remember the night of the party and how Joel had told you he enjoyed singing and playing the guitar in his life before the outbreak.

You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over in your mind. The decision comes quickly, and you close the case and pick it up, ascending the basement stairs with it in hand. It’s half past five—you still had some spare time before you needed to get started on dinner. You figure you won’t be too long. Besides, Luke had mentioned to you earlier that morning before heading out that he’d be staying late at the clinic anyway—one of the women in the community had just given birth to a premature baby boy that he’d need to keep a close eye on for the next few days.

Leaving the house, you start down the road towards Joel and Ellie’s place, remembering it was the brown and green unit just a couple doors over from your own place. You make your way up the porch steps and knock lightly on the front door. You try holding the guitar case behind you, but it’s fairly obvious what you have in your hands.

As you wait, you shift nervously from foot to foot. A few more seconds pass by and Joel answers the door. His salt and pepper curls are damp, and the scent of clean soap wafts in the air around him, slowly making its way over to you. He’d traded in his dirty denim shirt from earlier for a navy blue t-shirt that fits snug over his broad chest and wide shoulders.

He says your name in surprise. “What are you doin’ here?” His dark eyes flicker to the guitar case behind your back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Oh, just a little surprise for you and Ellie.” You toss him a cheeky, mischiveous smile. “Do you mind if I come in for a minute?”

“‘Course not.” Joel steps aside. He shuts the door behind you and beckons for you with his hand to follow him down the hallway and into the living room. For essentially being a single father, he knows how to keep a nice, clean home. Knowing Ellie, she sure as hell isn’t the one who tidied up after eight hours of mucking out horse stalls.

“Where’s Ellie?” you ask him.

“Upstairs. She just got in the shower a minute ago, but she shouldn’t be too long,” he tells you. Placing his hands on his hips, he peers curiously at you. “I’d ask what the surprise is, but just by lookin’ at the shape of that case, I think I might already have a hunch.”

“Jeez Joel, you could have at least acted surprised, you know,” you remark with a giggle. You set the case down on the antique coffee table in the middle of his living room and open it, revealing the guitar to him. “Surprise!”

Walking over to the case, Joel delicately picks up the instrument by the neck and pulls it out, giving it a once over. He lets out a long, low whistle as his other hand runs down the smooth, cherrywood body. “This is fuckin’ gorgeous,” he states. A playful look flashes in his eyes as he asks you, “Now, who did you go and steal this from, darlin’?”

“It belonged to my dad,” you reply softly with a smile. “I thought you might like to have it.”

Joel’s jaw drops in shock as he hisses, “What?”

“Hey, I wasn’t lying when I said we’d have to find you a guitar,” you laugh. “I’m a woman of my word, Miller.”

“Darlin’ I can’t accept this, there’s no fuckin’ way—” He tries handing the instrument back to you, but you take a step back and hold your hands behind your back, shaking your head. He tries again. “Listen, I appreciate the thought, but I can’t take this. It was your dad’s and I really don’t think he’d want some stranger to have it.”

“Please take it,” you request, sweetly. “It would mean a lot to me if you would. He really loved this thing and I just know he would be devastated if he knew that it’s been sitting in my basement collecting dust for the last two years.”

Joel’s momentarily rendered speechless.

“Please,” you repeat, adding an innocent bat of your eyelashes to finish winning him over. “Do it as a favor to me, Joel.”

He sighs in defeat. “Jesus, darlin’. Why’s it so fuckin’ hard to say no to you?”

You shrug, trying to mask the look of sheer triumph on your face.

He takes a closer look at the guitar. “Gibson. Y’know, I always wanted one of these back in the day, but I just could never bring myself to drop that kinda cash. I wanted real bad and now here I am with one in my hand.” His gaze meets yours and he smiles softly. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Joel. But don’t you forget that we made a deal,” you remind him as a teasing grin spreads across your lips. “You owe me and Ellie a song.”

“Speakin’ of Ellie, she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees this thing,” Joel realizes, giving it a single test strum. “I’ve really been wantin’ to teach her to play for some time now. Guess now I can.” He shoots you a look of sincere gratitude. “Thanks, peach.”

Peach. 

As you recall what had happened in Ranger’s stall earlier that day, you let out a nervous, breathless laugh. “That my new nickname or what?”

“Only when I feel like it,” Joel replies jokingly as he carefully places the guitar back in its case. “Which might be all the time.” Closing the case, he turns to you. He hesitates for a second, but then takes a careful step closer towards you. He cups your face in his hand, just like before, his eyes flitting to your parted lips. 

Lifting your hand, your fingers curl around his wrist. 

You’d do just about anything for him to kiss you again—but the both of you had almost been caught by Ellie once already and you weren’t trying to make it two for two. It takes all the strength you have inside you to drop your hand away from him and step back.

You lightly clear your throat. “Um, I should probably get home and get dinner started before it gets too late. Will you say hello to Ellie for me?”

Nodding, Joel assures you, “‘Course I will.”

He walks you to the front door. He places a hand on the small of your back, his fingers brushing against the patch of smooth skin peeking from between the waist of your shorts and the lace hem of your tank top. Once he opens the door, Joel withdraws his hand from you to be safe. He doesn’t want anyone who might have been passing by the house to see any kind of physical contact between you and him and get any ideas. “Have a good night, peach.”

You smile at him. “Have a good night, Joel.”

You return home within seconds and head straight to the kitchen. When you walk in and unexpectedly find Luke standing there leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, you stop in your tracks and let out startled little gasp. “Luke,” you say his name, hoping he can’t detect the nervousness in your voice. “You’re home early.”

He stares you down from where he’s standing. 

“Where were you?”

You can tell by the expression on his face that now isn’t the time to even think about lying to him—not unless you wanted things to go a whole lot worse for you. “I, um—I was over at Joel and Ellie’s place,” you admit to him. “I was only there for a couple of minutes, though. That’s why I left the door unlocked.”

“What were you doing over there?”

Luke sounds calm, but you know him better than that.

The clouds are coming in—the storm is brewing.

You swallow, your throat dry. “Just talking.”

“To Ellie?” Pushing away from the counter, he slowly saunters over to you with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Or to Joel?”

“Luke, please. Let’s just talk about this calmly—”

“When I ask you a question, you fucking answer it,” Luke hisses as he grabs your arm, his fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh right above your elbow.

“Luke, stop. You’re hurting me,” you manage to tell him through gritted teeth. As you squirm, his grip only tightens. “Seriously, you’re hurting me. Please, let me go.”

The panic is beginning to creep in, your body ready to go into flight mode, but you will yourself to remain grounded, to stay as calm as possible—dealing with him and his temper is frightening, but becoming emotional and showing him that you’re afraid of him always makes things so much worse in the long run.

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

“What? Nothing! I hardly know him,” you try to tell him. You let out a small, painful yelp as he continues to dig his fingers deeper into your arm. “Luke, I need you to let me go. You’re really hurting me—”

Finally, you lose your nerve and look away from him, trying to avert his furious gaze. 

Letting go of your arm, Luke reaches out and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Do you honestly think I’m fucking stupid? Or are you just that fucking stupid?” He spits out in a venomous tone that sends an unpleasant chill down the length of your spine. He squeezes your face, hard. “Do you really think that I didn’t notice how the two of you had come from behind the barn that night during the party? How you were out there alone together, with no one else around?” He lets out a loud, bitter laugh. “Do you really think that I didn’t notice how that man fucking looked at you even when you were at my side?”

Luke releases your face, shoving it away harshly.

Taking a moment to catch some wind, you look up at him and sputter out the most coherent explanation you can come up with “We don’t even know each other, Luke! I don’t know Joel—the only reason we talk to each other is because Ellie’s his daughter and she’s gotten really close to me since she started working down at the stables. He only talks to me when it has something to do with Ellie. His kid. That’s it.” You’re now lying straight through your teeth and all you can do is pray he won’t pick up on it. “Today was the first time I’ve talked to or even seen Joel in weeks. The night of the party, he’d told me that he wanted to teach Ellie how to play the guitar so I went over to give him dad’s old Gibson. You’ve been telling me to start getting rid of his stuff, so I started with his guitar. That’s all.”

It’s difficult to be certain whether or not he believes you. 

“Ellie,” he repeats her name with a scoff. “What, you couldn’t bear any of your own so you just go around adopting feral little strays now? Is that it?”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “Screw you, Luke.”

He smirks. “Hit a nerve, sweetheart?”

You know better than to shoot back at him.

Still, you foolishly do it anyway. 

“First of all, don’t talk about Ellie like that. In fact, I don’t ever want to hear you say her name again so keep it out of your mouth,” you warn him, your voice low, seething. “And second, don’t you pin our lack of a family all on me just to make yourself feel like a real fucking man.”

You see it coming before it even happens and brace yourself for the impact. 

The sound of his hand connecting with the side of your face bounces loudly off the kitchen walls.

“Listen and listen good because I won’t repeat myself,” Luke snarls. He backs you against the kitchen table and grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, yanking your head back roughly as his face inches closer to yours. “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again. You are my wife—you honor and you obey me, especially in our own home. The next time you run your fucking mouth like that, you’re going to be picking pieces of your jaw up off the floor. Do you understand me?”

Chest heaving, you nod meekly.

He pulls your head back further—harder. “Say it.”

“I understand,” you squeak, momentarily feeling like he might actually snap your neck. 

“Good.” Luke releases you and stalks out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I expect dinner to be on the table in an hour.”

[mrsackermannx]

Honey, I’m home…

GOJO SATORU X FEM READER MDNI

tags: ceo/dad/husband gojo, smut, light degradation (use of slut twice), not pet play but he calls her a kitty, exhibitionism (gojo is on a zoom call), teasing, one shot.

wc: 3.7k

a/n: after the manga and the anime last week, this was needed for me to revive (an oldie from the drafts) 😭 not to mention spanish uni is kicking my ass so satoru is keeping me sane rn hahaha 🫣

Eating breakfast alone was seldom done in the Gojo household, because Satoru liked the kind of breakfasts that looked like they do in the movies. 

An assortment of brightly coloured fruits and pancake stacks, his wife by his side, a smug grin on his face as he sipped his coffee and asked everyone what they’d be doing with their day. The odd dad joke or two, or more. 

You snorted quietly at the thought, pausing at the fridge door. The kids were at Megumi and Yuuji’s, so they couldn’t tease you for being sentimental, or groan at the photos their embarrassing father insisted be plastered to the fridge.

Heart shapes, letters, bunnies, an assortment of magnets stuck decades worth of fond memories to the appliance. Your daughter’s first birthday, with Satoru at her side helping her blow out the candles, your second son’s first time at a water park on Satoru’s shoulders, last Christmas vacation in the Philippines.  

Your eyes crinkled as you took notice of your favourite one, stroking the scrawl of Satoru’s handwriting on the Polaroid’s border. “Mr and Mrs Gojo.” 

The polaroid was the lovesick image of you and Satoru in Italy for your honeymoon.

You can remember the warmth of the evening, and how pink the sunburn was on the tip of his nose. Oh how the sun had bronzed the nape of his neck, making his white hair all the more a stark contrast. His cologne was sweet and intoxicating as his large hands dwarfed your cheeks, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You could feel his smile as he did so, laughing at the cheers that engulfed you both. The faces visible behind you both were flushed and merry as your hands clasped. 

One of your favourite photos.

Your husband’s position as CEO of his clan’s company afforded all the luxuries a woman and a family could desire. But sometimes everybody needed Satoru. There were nights you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, only to be left with cold sheets and him muttering into his phone down the hall at the crack of dawn, Ijichi beeping just outside already. 

Satoru always told you to be selfish, to put yourself first, to be bold with your desires. But you found it hard to voice when you were feeling —greedy about him. When you were feeling so possessive you wanted to drive over to headquarters when he was doing overtime, and fuck him right in his office so everybody would know that work wasn’t his only priority. 

He’d been gone a mere twelve days, and he went on these trips three times a year, max—granted. And Satoru normally had his best men on them but sometimes he had to go too.

You almost scalded your lap with tea when you heard steps clicking through the foyer. You held your breath waiting for a sunny and inevitable rendition of a ‘Honey, I’m home!’ 

Instead you heard the surely jet-lagged mumble of your husband instead. “I forgot about it because I was overseas Nanami! You know you ought to let loose if you really think I should’ve come straight to headquarters as soon as I landed!”

He was positively barking on the line when his suitcases reached a sudden halt and he saw a peek of you in the kitchen. You grinned, jumping to your feet to greet him though he only gestured to his phone with a tired smile. 

You blew him a kiss and his shoulders slackened, finally dropping his bags. “Yes, bu-I’m already home! I’m not heading through traffic just to-“

You reclined back on your stool, grinning at him when he pointed an imaginary gun to his head at Nanami’s audible ranting on the other line.

“Fine, I’ll be on the call in five!” He ripped off his jacket and headed down the foyer, “Morning babe!” he boomed, “Didn’t wake you, did I?” 

His voice echoed down the hall. When you reached him you stood at the foot of the stairs, your hands on your hips. You arched one brow before you spoke through gritted teeth, “No, you didn’t.” 

The deep split of your robe was exposing the planes of your smooth skin, teasing slithers of your breasts and your belly button. He wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and worship you as if it were a holy day. He wanted your thighs swung over his shoulders, and his mouth right between them. 

He mentally cursed at the thought, releasing a deep sigh into his palm. “You okay, sweetheart?”

He didn’t even have the time. 

“Fine, and you?”

He could hear in your voice you were on the edge of asking something, asking for more. After so many years of marriage he could smell when a bad mood was brewing from you, better yet taste it. 

He tried to fool you as if it were easy, that signature grin, a smooth click of those fingers. “Nothing! Just gotta sit in on this meeting, goddess.” He winked, “Let’s catch up in a bit.”

The entire interaction had left you dumbfounded, standing in the foyer and suddenly feeling lonelier than you did eating breakfast alone. Somehow.

“Gojo fucking Satoru,” you hissed to yourself. “Do not goddess me.” 

Had someone replaced your husband with a clone? Satoru could have flown halfway across the world and back, after not seeing you for more than a day was enough to make him needier than ever. He always came back, desperate and ready to devour you.

You were unsettled, but quickly renewed with courage when you approached his study half an hour later and heard him speaking. His voice was back to its usual, chirpy and light.

You wavered for several seconds, loosening your robe before you slipped inside.

He was gesturing wildly with his hands, relaying the success of his trip no doubt. But when he saw you his eyes narrowed and then darkened. 

You resisted a smirk when you heard Choso’s voice seconds later. “Why’d you turn your camera off?” 

Then Toji’s, husky and bored. “We don’t have to see his smug face, do we?” he spat. “Anyway, I’m fucking falling asleep here. It’s early. You gonna continue or what?”

Satoru hummed, his voice now entirely reserved for you as his eyes were all over those bare thighs of yours. You were sprawled out on his chaise lounge and scrolling through your phone.

He cleared his throat, “Bad signal, sorry about that.” 

His eyes didn’t leave you, not even once. You could feel his gaze all over your skin, as scorching as the sun as you stretched and yawned where you lay. Languid and feigning innocence as you arched your back slightly and felt your robe slip enough to expose your bare breasts.

You heard a sharp intake of breath and continued stretching this way and that. But after minutes of this torment and his various sighs to grab your attention you relented and turned a fraction.

Lust was pooling in those crystalline eyes, turning them dark. If they were usually like waves sparkling in the morning sun, they were now akin to a bottomless ocean with a crescent moon’s light. 

A breath passed and you rose to your feet, mischief tipping the corners of your lips up into something erotic and enchanting to your husband. He tilted his head, asking a silent question as he hummed in agreement to whatever the hell Nanami had just said.

You shifted onto your knees and crawled between his legs and he smirked as if the sight amused him. You rested your cheek on his thigh, like a needy cat waiting to be played with. How dare you act as if you were waiting in apprehension when those eyes of yours said anything but.

His eyes finally flickered with warning, but not the red-light kind of warning, the kind that oozed with a dominance so overpowering that you bowed your head and took to quietly unzipping his pants. 

His teeth clenched in anticipation before he jabbed at his keyboard to mute himself, and gave you his attention. “Bored, huh? I can give you something worthwhile to do, honey. Just wanted something to suck on? Yeah?” he cooed, his voice dripping so sweetly in condescension that it made your teeth hurt.

He chuckled when you nodded eagerly, running this thumb over your lower lip as he unbuckled his belt one-handed. “I know, baby. I know. Ready for me?”

You grinned, opening your mouth for him to push his thumb into it first. “Be good to me, yeah? I don’t wanna have to cut my meeting short because you think it’s funny to tease.”

He spoke to you as if he was saying something as mundane as remember to take an umbrella today. Rather than a man who was now loudly slapping the tip of his cock on the tongue of his needy wife during a conference call. 

His low groans reverberated through your core, every inch of your skin waiting to be touched by your lover. The sweet and salty taste of him kissed your tastebuds and came with a rueful delayed reaction. At first it helped soothe the aching arousal between your legs but then it made you even needier. 

“How’s that for my spoiled little sweetheart? Heh heh, like a needy little cat, aren’t ya? Licking up every last drop.”

“Not as needy as you,” you purred, pulling away just in time for his arousal to drip onto your lower lip. “Meow.”

His brows knitted together at the sight, his arousal was glistening and smeared all over your lips.

“No, no. Don’t,” he hissed, before his voice sweetened. “Swallow it for me, baby. I’ve gotta get back to work.”

He winked and put a finger to his lips before asking Geto to repeat whatever convoluted question that had been background noise just moments ago. 

You smiled in glee around his dick when his voice wobbled the further you took him down your throat, doing your best to remain quiet just under his desk. But as usual, it was Satoru who threatened to blow your cover—as usual. 

You swelled with pride when he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing frantically and his chest heaving back and forth. 

It was Nanami who noticed first, interrupting Geto’s presentation when he hears a shaky breath stuttering through the laptop at the end of the conference table. “Gojo? Are we boring you?”

“Ah, no!” He scrambled forward so quickly he swiped a pot of stationery clean off his desk. Not without bumbles of laughter from the meeting room of men.

 “Just…working out!” he managed through gritted teeth, one hand still cradling the back of your head and guiding your sweet and unforgiving mouth back and forth. 

Toji sighed, the oldest of the men and the least naive. “You choose to do that shit now?”

Choso yawned, glancing toward an agitated Nanami. “What shit are we discussing?”

Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’d know if you weren’t asleep, and Gojo save the workout for after the meeting, please. Let’s proceed.”

“Not my fault, I had to stay up and help Yuuji cram for an exam,” Choso mumbled. 

“Aww! Choso-nii!” Suguru laughed, “Satoru, are you hearing this?”

You were both momentarily so grateful for his team’s ability to bicker about anything down to the probability of rain that day, that you were bringing Satoru to heights of pleasure he’d not even dared anticipate. One he was laughably jet lagged and two he was in an incredibly important meeting but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh fuck, baby. Oh—juust like that!” he spluttered, unable to think about anything else other than the way you were flicking your tongue along his shaft. You sucked and rubbed your wet lips along that sensitive spot of his that made him whimper upon contact.

You fucking devil.

Suguru burst into laughter first, without Satoru’s arm the sounds of him slapping the table in his hysterics filled the room, then followed Sukuna’s laughter. “Is that pretty little wife of yours home by any chance?” he cackled, then Satoru was sure he heard Toji’s laughter but he was already too far gone. 

He hissed as he pulled you off his cock, coughing to smother the audible popping sound. His teeth sinking into his lower lip at the lewd sight of saliva drooling down onto your chest. “I hate you,” he hissed in a whisper. Before muting the call to allow you both to compose yourself, whilst Nanami scolded the team.

Then he was ready.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, “Sorry about that! My wife was giving me a quick massage before she headed out for work. You know how much sleeping on aeroplanes messes with my neck, right Nanami? Please, proceed.”

The sooner this ended the better. 

Sukuna snorted first, “Are you sure you weren’t fucking her?” 

“Would you refrain from referring to my wife like that, Sukuna? You are already on two strikes, aren’t you?” Satoru’s voice was so short and stern that even Nanami held his breath. 

“As I said, let’s continue.”

A chorus of “yes sir” had Satoru smirking down at you on the floor. His eyes locked on you as he made quick work of the mouse and pushed his keyboard aside, tapping the edge of your desk. 

You sprang to your feet to sit, the air thick with tension as he untied your robe to reveal the bare skin beneath it. “Oh baby, just look at you,” he purred, bringing his chair closer just to marvel at the sight before him.

His large hands gripped your breasts, sucking and licking until you relaxed and sank your hands into his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most. He was eager to please, his eyes not breaking from yours for even a second as he leaned forward and kissed your pussy, grinning when he found you slick and dripping for him.

He suckled on your clit until you mewled, his lips fitted to the bud as his tongue swirled and licked until you were gasping out his name. “Gojo? So, how did you find their sales department?” Nanami exhaled, “Gojo?”

He broke from you with an apologetic grin, assuming that sharp CEO voice as he flicked his mic back on. “Yeah, as I told Yaga when I was there the energy was not quite what I expected. It was interesting to see how their team implemented the techniques in which…”

But his words were lost on you, your teeth sunk into your lip as he flicked the tips of his fingers against your swollen clit. The movements were so deft and precise that they were turning your brain into mush, but they were also so tortuously light that you couldn’t handle it anymore. Heat rushed to your cheeks. Your eyes clamped shut.

Satoru removed his hand, tapping your thigh to grab your attention. He pointed to his cock with a smirk. “Ride me,” he mouthed. “Now.”

“Choso, how was your trip to Kyoto? Did you manage any meetings with the execs?” he continued, squeezing the backs of your thighs whilst you grabbed the base of him and hovered above his cock. 

“Well, I took my brother so I didn’t have a lot of time to….”

You shook your head, gulping when he flicked his finger across that mouse pad once more. 

“Ah? You gonna leave me hanging? That’s cruel, darling. More my style than yours. But as long as you keep quiet, we shouldn’t have a problem.” His voice was silky, and just ever so slightly mean, but it aroused you and he knew it. “Can’t have them hearing you like this, baby. Like you’re some kind of slut.” 

“Satoru, I won’t be able to be quiet, I can wait till after I-“

He tutted, sweeping his hands under your thighs as his gaze hardened. “You clearly can’t, so come on darling, sit on it for me, yeah? You know I hate these fucking meetings so help me get through it and fuck me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, until you were letting him take full control of your mouth.

“I’m just so tired baby, need you to take care of me,” he moaned into your lips. “I know you can, baby. I know your pussy needs me inside, huh?” he cooed, rutting his cock against your slicked cunt.

“Yes,” you whimpered, pulling away to find his his cheeks dusted with pink and his eyes barely open,

“Yeah?” 

You nodded, slotting one arm around his neck whilst you guided him to your cunt and began to sink down on him. “Oh fuuck,” he cursed, his voice leaving him in short hot bursts of air against your neck. 

“That’s it baby, go on. You’re gonna have to move for me baby. Go slow for me. Fuck me, touch me.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he guided your hands under his shirt, feeling your touch like this was enough to make him come sometimes. “Baby, fuck me. Come on.”

“Can’t. I’ll be noisy,” you whined, only a few inches full but yet struggling to focus on whatever Choso was rambling about and then promptly being interrupted by Geto and then Sukuna. 

“You’ve gotta make this up to me baby, didn’t touch myself the entire time I was away. You’re gonna make me lose it. This is your fault.”

“M’ sorry! I thought you wanted it. You were hard already!” 

“I always want you, baby. I always want it. Let me show you.” 

He lifted his hips and filled you in one fluid moment, both of your voices embracing in one sweet and lengthy moan. Before he was moaning with every thrust, “Cause you were prancing around my office looking too pretty like that baby, I’m about to show you just how much.” 

Your pussy clutched him so tight at the praise he groaned and found his lips landing on your own with a magnetic, desperate pull from within his heart. How lucky he was to come back home to you.

“Good girl, you knew exactly what I wanted, knew I wanted to come home and fuck you just like this.”

He watched your pussy drool down his cock as you moved up and down on it, tentative and hungry for him. Your pupils were blown wide, like you were drunk on him, like you had been waiting for the moment you could be like this with him.

It made his cock twitch, the sensation making you quiver and smother your noises into your palm. You stopped, his full length sheathed inside of you, the relief and pleasure that contorted your features was truly beautiful, the sight he’d been waiting for. You tried desperately to catch your breath, “Need a second.”

He brought you closer, wrapping an arm around your back as he whispered. “Huh? You needy little thing, I thought you couldn’t—fuckin’—wait.” Each word was separated by a breath as your cunt fluttered from his low, and reprimanding tone. “No way. No.”

He felt so good. He was filling you so well.

He flicked himself of mute to hum along to Toji’s thoughts of Choso’s pitch. But his breaths were growing more and more laboured. You turned to see Nanami’s face growing pink. “You falling asleep there or pumping one out before you crash man?” Sukuna asked.

“Sorry! I just—” His chest heaved, and he closed his eyes to take a breath just as your pussy was teasing his tip, so close but not close enough. You grinned as you took revenge and slammed down on him all at once, “Oh fuck!” he groaned.

“Sleeping on that plane really got my neck, just had to crack it.”

Toji leaned to look into the camera a huge smirk on his face, “Is your fucking wife with you?”

“What, of course not,” he answered, his pants surely audible the other end. “In the gym actually.”

“Are you serious?”

“Carry on with the meeting I don’t have all day.” That was his no bullshit tone. The sound of it making you throb so wildly he was all smug, a little ‘hmph’ leaving his lips as he muted the call once more.

Nanami stiffened, “Yes sir, Ijichi proceed.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, darling,” he breathed, locking your hips in place so he could pound up into you with ruthless precision. You were a whimpering mess, arms around his neck squeezing impossibly tight as you had no other choice but to take all he was offering.

“Toru, Toru! Toru!” Your voice climbed higher with every thrust, the lewd sounds of your moans only amplified by the high walls of his slick, black study. 

“Please, m’ sorry. Gonna come, gonna make a mess,” you cried.

“Oh yeah? I know you will.” His thumb started on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your lower half jolting and squirming, as his cock hit that spot like a hammer to a nail. All too perfect, all too precise, like everything your husband did.

Closer and closer, until you were pulling on his hair, body coated so much in sweat your hands resigned to clawing down his nape instead. 

“Please!”

“No baby, make a fucking mess. How could I ever say no to my wife? They all know it, you know it.”

“Important meeting…Nanami’ll get mad at me! He’ll know!”

“Fuck Nanami, fuck work, fuck everyone. Focus on me. Go on, oh? Too much?” He laughed, kissing down your throat. “You can cry baby, fuck yourself on my cock like there’s no fucking tomorrow,” he growled.

“Use me, use me, use me.”

You finally bursted but Satoru was still moving his hips like the sadist he truly was. “Feels too good doesn’t it baby, doesn’t it?” 

He laughed at the fluids covering your thighs and soiling his pants. “Fuuck, baby you’re so hot.”

Kissing your temple fondly, you both startled as you came back to reality. “Gojo!”

His fingers made quick work of his mouse. “Sorry! Sorry! I had to take an important call.”

“But um, listen I’m gonna have to go.” 

Luckily for him you’d slowed down so he could finally get his breaths even, chuckling and trying to sound as blasé as he could muster. “I’ve really gotta go! Nanami, update me, yeah!”

He ended the call before they could even complain.

You stood, legs shaking as you leant over to grab your robe. But Satoru was already gripping your ass from behind, “Where do you think you’re going? Shall I put another baby in ya this morning? You’re in heat after all. Clearly three aren’t enough, huh?”

He mounted you over his desk, his chest flat against your back as he filled you up all at once. “Why you so wet for, huh?” he groaned, already hitting that spot inside you that had you whining. “Because you’re a needy little slut who sucked me off—whilst I was busy working—or from squirting all over me and the desk? Come on baby! Tell me?”

©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.

[gigabyte-flare]

There's No Escape (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You find out that dedication pays off as you struggle with conflicting feelings for your clearly traumatized captor.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.4k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: I appreciate everyone's patience while I worked to get this one out. Hopefully it's worth the wait, enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You were in heaven.

Or… at least as close to heaven as you could get in your current predicament.

You soak yourself in the master bathroom tub, something Leon let you do if you were good, it felt so good on your sore muscles first thing in the morning. You sit there, your eyes closed; it was one of those part bathtub, part jacuzzi things that probably cost Leon a fortune. It was huge, you figured it could fit at least four people. 

The bathroom itself had a modern aesthetic. There was the tub, across from that was a stand up shower, completely enclosed in glass with a rainfall shower head. The sink and vanity were behind you in front of the door heading into the master bedroom. The best part though? The floor to ceiling window that overlooked the vast forest. The sun shone through the morning mist and trees, scattering god rays everywhere. You had to give credit for that; Leon had great taste in architecture. 

Your mind wanders as you open your eyes to enjoy the view of the forest. How long have you been here? Weeks? Months? You had tried to keep track but found it next to impossible. All the days seemed to blend together, your days made up of either Leon being attached to your hip or him ‘going into town’ (whatever that means) for work while you stayed there; you liked these days to yourself the most. In the evenings Leon would fuck you, his desire to get you pregnant was seemingly insatiable; hence why you were almost always sore in the morning.

It was impossible to fight him when he felt so fucking good, fucking asshole.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when you hear the bathroom door open.

“Alright, babygirl, tub time is over, time to have breakfast.”

You inwardly groan, opening your eyes and glaring at Leon.

“Don’t be like that, you don’t want Daddy to put you in timeout again, do you?”

You let out a sigh as you start to climb out, however, Leon scoops you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom so you could get dressed.

“Don’t want you slipping and falling on that wet tile. I can’t have my princess hurting herself, can I?”

In any other situation, you think this gesture would be adorable as hell, but this is not any other situation due to the fact that Leon is fucking nuts. He sets you down onto the bed before opening up the closet to pick out your outfit. One of his favorite things to do was to dress you up like you were his personal doll; this started within the past week. 

It’s like the more and more time you are trapped in this house with him, the weirder he gets.

“Here we are!” He suddenly exclaims, pulling out a flowy, short summer dress from the closet.

He walks over to you, you have seated yourself at the end of the bed with your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“Move your arms, babygirl,” Leon commands, his voice having a hint of annoyance.

Letting out a sigh, you lift your arms up over your head and Leon slips the dress onto you. When he gets the dress fitted onto you, he takes a step back as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork.

“Such a pretty doll you are. What do you say to Daddy for dressing you up so nice?”

You look away from him, once again wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Leon snarls.

You immediately look back at him, “thank you, Daddy…”

His expression immediately softens, “you’re welcome baby,” he pries one of your arms away from you, grasping your hand, “let’s go get you some breakfast, hm?”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The sound of a saw can be heard coming from a small shed on Leon’s property. Inside, Leon was diligently working, taking the piece of wood he had just cut and bringing it over to his project he was working on, a crib.

Leon knew something you didn’t, you had been asleep when he was able to draw some blood from you with a small needle and bring that sample with him to work one day. He gave it to the lab techs to test, you asked them to see if they could tell if you were pregnant, telling them that he wanted to surprise you with the good news. It took a couple days, but they let him know in an email that you were, in fact, pregnant with his child.

It took everything in him not to immediately tell you, so he took that energy and spent it on building the crib. In the shed, he had several monitors that showed the cameras inside the house so that he could keep an eye on you while he worked. You were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap, that was until he watched you turn onto your back, dipping one of your hands in between your legs.

He watched in awe as you pleasured yourself. He had read that sometimes a woman’s sex drive will skyrocket when they’re pregnant, thankfully that seems to be true for you. He continues to work on the crib, stopping to look at the camera feed in the bedroom occasionally. The picture was grainy, but he could tell your fingers were buried inside you and you appeared to be saying his name. This only served to motivate him to get this crib done.

What a good girl.

At some point, he unconsciously stops, staring into the camera feed as you’re still fingering yourself, a solid 45 minutes has passed by at least. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, eventually finding himself digging his hardening cock out of his pants to get himself off from watching you. After a few minutes of this, he tucks his throbbing cock back into his pants and makes his way into the house

As soon as he opens the front door, he’s immediately greeted by the sound of your animalistic moans coming from the bedroom. As he stalks through the house, he begins undoing his belt and practically ripping off his own pants and underwear. As he steps through the threshold into the bedroom now naked from the waist down, he sees you still laying on the bed, fingers buried into you with one hand while the other is rubbing circles into your swollen clit. You sit up slightly to look at Leon, tears streaming down your face.

He wastes no time pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you, his lips sealing over yours as he buried his cock deep inside your crying cunt. His thrusts are hungry and determined, causing you to practically scream his name. He feels your nails claw into his back. He buries his face into neck to mark you with loving bruises as his cock continues its relentless assault on your pussy. 

You let out an ear piercing scream as you cum all over his cock, drenching him in your juices as you continue to claw into his back, your nails drawing blood. Letting out a low growl, Leon pushes himself as deep as he could possibly go, shooting his load into you, coating your pussy walls pure white. Propping himself up by his arms, he looks down at you, still buried inside you. He’s breathing heavily, his skin coated in sweat.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

On one hand, you were so pissed at yourself for enjoying every second of that, on the other, you were so thankful Leon had come in to finally give you your release. You had no clue what had come over you, all of a sudden you were blindsided by an insatiable hunger that no amount of fingering yourself and clit rubbing was going to satisfy, you needed something that hit deeper. 

You and Leon look at each other, his arms caging you beneath him. Eventually he leans down, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before he finally pulls out of you. A rush of his cum leaks out of you. Pulling your dress down, you sit up and sit on the end of the bed as you watch Leon retrieve his discarded shirt, putting it back on before walking out of the bedroom; you assume his pants and boxers are out there somewhere. You stand up, immediately feeling his release drip down your legs, a painful reminder of your lack of willpower against Leon. 

You follow Leon out of the bedroom, watching as he gets his boxers and pants back on. He looks over at you, smiling.

“Sorry for bursting in like that, you looked like you needed some help on the cameras and I just couldn’t resist.”

You swallow hard, “it’s ok, Daddy, I’m thankful you came in when you did…”

Admitting that made you sick to your stomach, you wrap your arms around yourself again, hugging yourself gently.

“Put some shoes on and come with me to the work shed, I have something to show you that I’ve been working on for you.”

There’s a shoe rack over by the front door, you see a pair of your sandals along with pairs of boots and sneakers, probably all Leon’s. You walk over, grabbing the sandals and putting them on.

He gives you a dark look, “now, don’t get any ideas when we’re outside. I’m trusting you. You need to stay next to me at all times outside, understood?”

You stand next to him at the front door, giving him a slight nod before he opens the door. As both of you step outside, you inhale deeply, taking in the calming smell of the forest. When was the last time you were outside? You truly couldn’t recall. The shed was a ways away from the main house, you follow Leon on a well beaten path away from the house. Before long, you see the shed, which honestly was the size of a small house. The door to the shed was wide open, you assume Leon had left it open while he was rushing to get back to the house, to get to you.

You step inside and you quickly realize the shed actually was a small house. The room you were in probably used to be a living room however now it had various things scattered about, mostly tools and other stuff used for building things. You follow him into what used to be the kitchen, the tile floor covered in sawdust. There was a workbench in the middle with a table saw and Leon had removed the doors off the cabinets for easy access to his tools.

“When I bought this property, this little house used to be the original building until I built the new house. I figured I’d put this building to good use, but that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

He smiles at you before gesturing to something in the back next to the workbench, you gasp as your eyes settle on the half built piece of furniture.

“Is… is that a crib?!” you ask, a slight hint of panic in your voice.

“It is, and I have another surprise for you,” he continues as he grabs a piece of paper off the work bench, bringing it over to you.

You take the sheet from him, confused at first, it appeared to be results of a blood test, with elevated levels of hGC, whatever that means.

“Leon, I don’t really know what I’m looking at…”

“Come again?”

You mentally roll your eyes, “Daddy, I don’t know what this paper means.”

You watch as a smile slowly appears across Leon’s lips, his eyes locked onto you, “it means you’re pregnant, babygirl.”

“What?” you reply in utter disbelief.

“I took a sample of your blood with me to work and had the lab boys test it. I wanted to be able to give you the good news!”

Good news? GOOD NEWS? This was the furthest thing from good news. You start hyperventilating, the realization that you are tied to Leon forever now sinking in. You collapse to your knees, sobbing violently.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Why are you crying?

Leon stood there, watching you as you collapsed to the floor, utterly confused. You should be happy, why aren’t you happy? Leon’s lifelong dream of starting a family, especially with the love of his life, was finally coming true. When he had seen the results, he was completely overwhelmed with joy, so why aren’t you?

“Sweetheart, are you afraid…?” he began, kneeling down to you so that he was at your eye level, “there’s no need to be afraid, you’re going to be the most beautiful and perfect mommy to our baby.”

You continue to cry, big, heavy tears falling from your face as you struggle to breathe. Leon reaches out to you, caressing your cheek and wiping tears from your eyes, “I’m going to take such good care of you during this pregnancy, I promise.”

He was trying so hard to comfort you, but the more he spoke, the more your sobs got more intense. He suddenly grabs you by your arm, forcing you back onto your feet, but that didn’t stop you from crying. 

“Baby, please tell Daddy what’s wrong. Don’t you want my baby?”

“NO!” you scream at him without even the slightest hesitation, your body violently trembling.

In that moment, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. What do you mean you don’t want his baby? What began as sadness then evolved into full on rage as his anger coursed through his veins. He looks down at you, sees you still crying. However, he knew he couldn’t act on his anger, he didn’t want to risk losing the baby. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

He gently wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him, pressing you to his chest. You bury your face into his chest, tears staining his shirt. He simply held you there in his arms, letting you cry it all out. Eventually, you did finally stop crying, much to Leon’s relief. He runs his hand through your hair as he looks down at you, your face still buried in his pecs. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’ll be ok. We’re finally going to be a happy family.”

Part 6

[megamindsecretlair]

I just want to start off by saying that you’re keeping all of us Tyrone girlies well fed!! You’re hands down one of my favorite writers on Tumblr ❣️

Not sure if you’re taking requests , but I would kill to see Tyrone be the jealous/pining one. He just always seems so cool and collected. Maybe it’s like a friends to lovers thing (or maybe they’re FWB and he hasn’t made it official) and someone asks the reader out before he does. Might be slightly toxic, but I feel like it’s on brand for him

Break Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Mean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Toxic Tyrone, all consensual. Multiple uses of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. While you get ready for your date, Tyrone invites himself over to make you address where you stand with each other.

Word Count: 5,102k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. None. Head empty. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I feel so bad. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for calling me one of your fave writers! ILY! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt! Not everyone got tagged, simply because the list is so long and some of them have been inactive, no hard feelings!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @browngirldominion @melaninpov @sevikasblackgf @tranquilfandomer @empressdede @mybonafidefeelings @westside-rot @blackerthings @slippinninque @nicolexnight @honeytoffee @l-auteuse @jarfulloftears @thadelightfulone @kindofaintrovert @softscorpio17 @lovedlover @montysstuffs @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soapjay @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @sunkissedebony97

You sang along to Megan the Stallion’s song, “Girls in the Hood”, at full blast while you readied yourself for a date. Your shoulders bumped to the familiar beat, sliding on lip gloss. You felt good. Lighter than air. Dare you say…excited for the date? 

You snickered and shook your head. No, you were not excited for no funky ass date. It was just nice to get dressed for once and leave your apartment for a Saturday night. You had been working hard the past few weeks, trying to get a little recognition at work. 

You were approaching that time. The time where they either started showing some love or you were going to use their computers to find a new one. You hated starting over at a new place. You hated trying to suss out if the new people were going to be cool or full of microaggressions. 

You sighed as you looked over your makeup in the mirror. You liked the soft complementary tones to your skin tone. Tonight was about you and that was all there was to it. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

You looked down, swiping to open it, and read the text from Tyrone.

Tyrone With That Monster: Need this dick?

Heat pulsed through you from the text alone. You stared at the screen as you willed your body to recover from the brief flashback to the last time Tyrone texted you. The way he had your legs in the air and was knocking your headboard into your wall so hard, there were still grooves there.

Nope, nope, nope. You were not going back there. It had been about a month since you last spoke to him. Both of you were too involved in your worlds to manage more than a scheduled back breaking. You did not need that toxic ass nigga in your life. No matter how good the dick was. 

You texted back: naw, busy tonight.

Tyrone With That Monster: busy doin what? Watchin them corny ass shows?

You giggled and shook your head. You enjoyed cooking shows, there was nothing wrong with that. You knew it was fake as hell, but the food looked so good after. And dammit, you cared about some of the contestants whose lifelong dream it was to cook for their favorite chefs.

You: naw, a date 

Tyrone With That Monster: what you mean a date?

You: I said what I said

You flipped your phone over. You did not have time to go back and forth with Tyrone. He wasn’t usually a fast texter and you still needed to slip on your dress. Your playlist flipped to “Body” by Megan the Stallion and you shimmied your way to your closet. You pulled out dress after dress, wondering which one screamed that you were classy but liked to be fucked into oblivion. 

Your phone buzzed and buzzed but you ignored it. It was a text tone and you sincerely hoped that Vaughn was not the type of nigga to text that he was here. His ass better come to the door like a gentleman. He was too early anyway.

Going through your options, you decided to go with a burnished orange mini dress. You’d have to spend the night making sure you weren’t flashing your ass for the wrong crowd but it was short enough for Vaughn to get the message. You opened your closet door to reveal the mirror hanging from it.

You slipped the dress on, carefully yanking it down to fit over your wide hips and ass. You turned in the mirror to look at how the dress hung. Damn, you could see the bottom of your ass. There was no way to keep it down. Shit. Not appropriate for dinner. It was appropriate for the club, so you grabbed your phone from the vanity, ready to text your friend about a potential club date.

You had several missed messages from Tyrone asking where you were going, who you were going with, what you were wearing, why you stopped answering, etc. You giggled running through the messages. You didn’t know what was going on with him, acting like ya’ll went together real bad. 

You were in the middle of typing a reply when you heard a thumping noise. You turned down Megan, a cardinal sin you know, and listened. Someone was banging on your door like they were the police. You tossed your phone onto your bed and headed towards the front door.

If it was your date, it was off. You had no time for a disrespectful ass mu’fucka. You looked through your peephole and gasped. Tyrone stood with his back towards you, scanning your neighborhood. 

You opened the wooden door, staring at him through the metal door. “Tyrone?” You asked.

“Open up,” he said.

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here bangin’ on my door like that? You know my neighbor–”

“Is deaf as hell. Open this damn door,” he said and sucked his teeth. 

Your pussy fluttered and you squeezed your thighs to make the ol’ girl calm down. So it had been a month since you seen him. So you still woke up in the morning sometimes from dreams where he folded you in half. Tyrone was a fuck boy, through and through, and you had no time for that. 

“Who the hell do you think you talkin’ to like that? Take that bass out ya voice,” you said. 

“Open this damn door,” Tyrone said, lowering his voice and injecting more bass. Asshole. That only turned you on more.

 You sighed and twisted the lock, opening the door for him. You didn’t want to cause a scene. The sweet old lady you lived next door to was kind and treated you like a granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand why you’d put up with someone like Tyrone.

You didn’t really understand it either. You just knew that you hated a weak ass man. There was nothing wrong with men who listened to their ladies and were sweet in everything that they did. But it turned you off when you told someone to shut up and they just went, “yes, ma’am”. 

Where was the fight? Where was the passion? Words never swayed you. You were always about the action. 

Tyrone swept into your apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He closed the wooden door and then finally faced you. Letting him in was a mistake you genuinely regretted at that moment.

He looked so cozy standing there in a hooded jacket, jacket over it, thick black jeans, and some Jordans. You wanted to bundle up with him. In your room. Under the covers. 

“The hell you going dressed like that?” He asked.

“Hello to you too, nigga,” you rolled your eyes and traipsed back to your room. Tyrone’s thunderous steps followed. 

“Shoes off!” You snapped. 

Tyrone sighed dramatically, never understanding the thing about taking off his shoes. You didn’t know which ho’s house he was coming from or which backwoods ass alley he was selling out of, but you did not want it tracked all over your soft brown carpet. 

Tyrone followed you to your room where you slipped the dress back over your head. You were braless and Tyrone openly stared at your tits but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He was barely a friend and he would be nothing more so there was no harm. 

Even though you felt his gaze like a physical thing. As if he were already pulling you close and running his hands across your breasts, squishing, kneading…okay, stop it. 

You looked through your other dresses, trying to find something before your date showed up. You roughly had an hour, so you hoped you could find something quickly. If finding your dress was hard, finding a matching pair of heels was harder.

“So you just gon’ flash them shits and ignore me?” 

“What do you want, Tyrone? I said I was busy,” you told him. Your back was to him. You didn’t want to look at him too long or give him any hint that he could approach you. You weren’t sure you had the willpower to resist him.

Did you love him? No. You barely tolerated him. You weren’t even sure how you fell into “fuck buddy” territory. It had been a wild couple of months, where you had more fun having sex than you could remember.

But, the more you hopped in with him, the less you wanted to hop in with anyone else. And that simply wouldn’t do. 

You were growing uncomfortably wet. Your brain and heart didn’t want him, but your pussy did. Every swish of your thighs and dip of your hip reminded you of how wet you grew around him. If he were to enter you right now, he wouldn’t need to work himself in. You were your very own slip n’ slide.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, you didn’t want to have to explain yourself. 

“You said you didn’t do dates,” he said. 

“I don’t.” You couldn’t concentrate on finding a dress while he stood there, across the way from you. It felt like he was crowding your space. Or maybe that was just his presence. 

“What the fuck? Why you actin’ like this?” He asked.

“I’m not acting like anything. You the one that showed up unannounced,” you said. You risked a glance at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted a bit to the side, and eyes furrowed.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. With his big, sexy ass lips. Wide nose. Fierce eyebrows. Your pussy would never let you forget what his tongue could do. Could you clean yourself up real quick? You didn’t want to go out on a date with soaked panties. 

You pulled the next dress you could find out of the closet and held it up to yourself. It was a black, sleeveless midi dress that would more than cover your ass but still short enough to not hinder you from getting some tonight.

You had been depriving yourself of dick, mostly because you were bored with the current rotation. They weren’t doing anything new, weren't trying to do anything new, and you didn’t have time to break it down for them. 

You were ready to hop on and get yours. So you quietly ghosted the current roster and set to work building up some potentials. Vaughn was the only one with some sense so far. He used proper grammar, he had hobbies outside of playing ball on the weekends or surfing the internet trolling, and he was on his grown man grind. 

“If you wanted a date, why didn’t you ask me?” Tyrone asked.

You laughed. The sound erupted from you, loudly and rudely, and you held your hand to your mouth to rein it back in. 

“You? Taking me on a date? Be fuckin’ forreal.” You couldn’t hide the laughter in your tone. 

“You actin’ like a nigga can’t take you somewhere nice. After we fuck, you kickin’ me out the bed.” 

Laughter still shook your shoulders as you glanced at him. But he wasn’t laughing. His lips were pressed together and you had to really look at him. Was he serious? 

“I thought that was what we agreed to?” Did you miss something? 

“Yeah, I thought we agreed to fuck with each other.”

“And do?” 

“So why you switching shit up, going on dates? When we got started, I asked you out a few times.” 

You bit the corner of your mouth. You hated messy shit like this. “Not that I have to explain myself, but I felt like a date today. Felt like doing something new. Fuck buddies starting to get played if I can’t hang out after,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders. 

You weren’t in the market for a relationship. Didn’t have the time. But you supposed that you wanted a friend with benefits. Hang out to do dumb shit like go to the movies, go see a gallery opening, go out to dinner and then come home to get off. You weren’t down for the cuddling shit but maybe? You didn’t know what you were after, but this wasn’t it anymore.

You couldn’t picture Tyrone doing any of those things. He was too busy, too rough around the edges, to fit the ideal friend you were looking for. 

“Then why can’t we hang after?” Tyrone asked. 

You fought a smile. “And do what, Tyrone? Watch my corny ass shows that you complain about? Talk about work? Go out to the same five fast food restaurants and eat in the car, parked somewhere?” 

“Damn, you think that about me?” His voice got soft. Shit. No, no. This was going all wrong. Tyrone was good for being a stone wall. You could say whatever and do whatever. He didn’t care. You liked that he didn’t care. 

“I’m saying that this isn’t an exclusive thing. We both knew that. How many women you don’ fucked on your way over to me? How many girls you got waiting for a call back from you?” 

“Ion know, I ain’t messed with none of them bitches for a good while. You’d know that if you texted me for something other than dick,” he said. 

“Need I remind you who texted who tonight?” 

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating!” Tyrone exploded. 

“I don’t know what you want!” You screamed back.

“You! Dumb ass!” 

Your mouth was already open, ready to rip apart anything he said in response. But when his words sunk in, when the pounding of your heart in your ears lessened, it dawned on you that he said he wanted you. 

“Oh,” you said. You stood there awkwardly. You had the dress in your hands, hanging limply from the hangar. You lifted it, covering yourself, not sure what to say to that. 

“You don’t even think about me, do you?” 

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said. You faced away from him. 

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head, ‘cause I never do. I don’t fuckin’ get you half the time. But I know I want you,” he said.

“You just want what’s between my legs. This my fuckin’ pussy,” you snapped. Anger bubbled in your gut. Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling this shit? Forcing you to confront these…these…fuck ass feelings? You were about your money. You were about your grind. This was precisely why you didn’t want relationships and cut niggas off before it got this far. 

This was ultimately your fault, for letting him linger for so long. But how could you deny your insane chemistry with him? You never got the grooves fixed in your wall because you liked remembering how he handled your body. You liked remembering that he worshiped every inch of you and never made a snide comment about your looks or weight.

You pretty for a big girl…it’s nice to be out with someone who eat like me, not like a damn bird…

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Ain’t that what you said?” Tyrone fired back. 

You sighed and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom. “I need to get ready for my date,” you mumbled. 

Tyrone blocked your exit from your bedroom, using his size to crowd in even more. “How could you still think about that nigga when I’m right in front of you? Telling you I want you? We can stop the sex right now, if you’ll give me a chance,” he said, his tone soft. His eyes were pleading with you, silently begging you to make that leap. 

“There’s only sex between us, Tyrone. Move,” you said. You looked away from him, digging your hands into your flesh, clutching the dress to yourself. 

“Fine. Tell me your pussy ain’t wet and I’ll leave,” he said. 

“That’s not fair, Tyrone,” you said.

“I don’t care. Tell me it isn’t. Tell me them little ass panties ain’t fuckin’ soaked.” 

“Sex was never our problem,” you told him. 

“You ain’t trynna be with me and I know you ain’t trynna be with whatever fuck nigga you got comin’ to swoop you up. You don’t even know if his dick as good as mine. Let me send you out proper then,” he said. 

He closed the minimal distance between you, pressing his lips to your temple. “Show me you truly don’t fuck with me no more and I’ll leave,” he said.

“You just confessed that you want me. How fair is it to let you hit after that? Or let you hit and then go out with someone else?” He could not fuck you into being with him. There was no way that he was going to fuck some feelings into you. 

Stupidly, a small part of you still didn’t want to give him up. You wanted him to take back what he said. To unring that bell. You wanted him to take those words from your brain so that he could stay on the roster. Stay unbothered. You didn’t want to change your arrangement. 

“I’m just some fuck boy right? I got other women waiting on this dick, so what does it matter?” 

“Because you already ruined it!” 

Tyrone only smirked. He tugged on the dress. You held on but you didn’t want to tear the dress either. You let it go and he tossed the dress onto your ottoman. He spread your arms out and he looked down at your titties. It was just cold. That was the only reason your nipples were beaded up like that.

“I can’t ruin what never was. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle rejection,” he said. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and you fought off a shiver.

“Tyrone…” You knew this was a bad idea. “We shouldn’t.” 

Dammit, you were dick whipped. And you knew that you had to hold out. Had to remain strong. You couldn’t fuck someone who had feelings for you. You were an asshole but you had to be an asshole with some rules. There was a line somewhere. 

Tyrone took off his jacket and then took off his hoodie, revealing a white t-shirt. His lips returned to your forehead, then your cheek, bypassing your mouth and headed towards your neck. You melted into his kisses, leaning your head back for more. Wait, no.

You pushed him away and put your hands up. “We can’t.” 

“We shouldn’t. We can’t. Tell me no. Tell me no since you ain’t want me,” he said.

“I told you that sex was never our problem,” you said. You’d definitely have to change your panties now. You couldn’t go on a date like this. All hot and bothered. “I hate you.”

Tyrone smirked, removing his shirt. Your mouth dropped open. It had been far too long since you seen him naked. Since you seen that one eyed-monster he got hiding in his pants. 

His hands deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper moving slowly down. You followed the action. You were throbbing right now, needing a really good dick down. Wasn’t that what the whole Vaughn thing was for anyway? You had been texting him for a few weeks and you appreciated that he wasn’t begging for pussy. But Tyrone was right. You didn’t know if Vaughn was good in bed yet.

“What was it that you said? It’s your pussy right? Don’t you want to take care of her before your date? Just so you’re in it thinking with your head,” he said. 

Tyrone waited. He waited for you to tell him no. To tell him to get dressed, walk out, and leave you free for your date. You just stared at his hands on his jeans, ready to pull them down. 

“I hate you,” you sighed. You weren’t strong. You were not every woman. It was not all in you. He was right. He was a grown man and he could handle rejection. One last roll around the sheets wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he needed that final nut to get you out of his system.

Tyrone’s smug smile split his face as he dropped the jeans. His dick was already pressing against his black boxer briefs. He rubbed himself over the top. “Get that pretty ass on the bed,” he said.

He had you, so he was back to familiar territory. You followed his directions, walking backwards until your legs hit the bed. You sat down. He approached, still rubbing that wonderful, beautiful dick of his. 

You licked your lips. You reached out to grab the band of the boxers, but he slapped your hand away. You gave him a funny look but he only knelt down slowly. He hauled your legs to his shoulders and scooted in, until you were angled perfectly. 

He took a deep breath. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He moved your panties to the side and started eating you out. No teasing, no games, just big lips attached to your pussy and eating like it was his God given right.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You tried to scoot back a bit. You weren’t used to such intensity from him. 

Tyrone pulled you forward, pressing his shoulders under your thighs and forcing your legs wider. Music still played in the background, a sensual R&B tune called “Flames” that only highlighted this naughty moment. 

His tongue flicked against your clit. He attacked it with precision, flicking it back and forth since he knew it was the quickest way to get you off. As he did that, his left hand held your pussy lips open. His right hand trailed down in your slickness and pushing inside you. 

“Ohhhhh,” you moaned to the ceiling. He fucked you with his thick digits, going in and out at a fast pace. Your thighs shook on his shoulders. 

“Mhm, this yo pussy right?” He whispered against your clit. 

“Yess,” you moaned. And it was. You were the proud owner of something that drove men insane. Thinkin’ they owned you or some shit. You were the mu’fucka that had to deal with it day in and day out. So why should it belong to a mu’fucka who couldn’t find your clit even if you drew them a map? 

Tyrone suckled on your clit, driving his fingers deeper inside of you. Tyrone didn’t need a map. He knew exactly what to do. He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You clutched his braids as you came on his face. Shaking. Quaking. Was there an earthquake or were you just shaking that damn badly from this momentous orgasm? 

“Fuuhh,” you cried out. It had been entirely too long. Damn, my bad sis, you mentally thought about your vagina. You would never deprive her for so long again. 

You twitched as Tyrone continued to lap up your orgasm, groaning at your taste. He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear. He leaned back, lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and suckled up your juices. 

He stood up and peeled off your panties. “Knew you were wet as fuck,” he said, self satisfaction written all over his face.

“Whatever, nigga,” you groaned. He chuckled and picked you up. He tossed you further on the bed. You were ready to admonish him for it, but he finally freed that big ass monster. His dick bobbed when he was finally free. 

He stood there a moment, letting you look your fill. “Hurry up and come fuck me,” you said. You didn’t have time to play. You weren’t sure what the time was. Oh yeah, you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Tyrone chuckled. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. The bed dipped as he climbed on.. Where did he get the fuckin’ audacity to toss you around like this? Was this the same Tyrone? Did he have a twin or clone somewhere who was a little sex freak? 

He slapped your ass. “Goddamn,” he said. “That fuckin’ recoil is dangerous.”

“Who do-”

He entered you and you gasped from his size. Did he get bigger? Was that possible? This couldn’t be the same dick you were hopping on a few weeks ago. “Oh fuck,” you gasped.

Your hands clutched the red sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him. You weren’t prepared for this! 

Tyrone slammed your hips back down on his girth and you cried out. A mix of pain and pleasure had your hand frantically reaching back. Tyrone grabbed it and pushed it into the bed next to your head. His large hand covering yours was sexy all by itself. Your pussy fluttered and Tyrone groaned.

“This yo pussy right?” He asked.

“Yeesssuh,” you moaned. 

You started throwing it back on him, slapping your ass against his thighs. The wet smacking got louder than the music playing in the background. “Fuck me,” he moaned and went harder. 

A dance of dominance began. Your hips rolled as you tried to gain some type of control. You liked getting fucked as much as the next person, but he was an entirely different animal tonight. A dangerous one. He was pulling out all kinds of moves you didn’t know he had. And you were unprepared for it. Blindsided that this mu’fucka still had some tricks up his sleeve. 

But every inch you tried to gain, he’d switch it up. He took his hand off of yours and replaced it on your hip. He lifted up his right leg to steady himself. Then he really went to town. Each meeting of your skin on his was like a shotgun blast. Lethal. Loud. His thrusts were hard. His strokes deep. 

He moved his hand again, snaking it under your bodies until he found your clit. “Oh, shit, wait,” you mumbled. 

“Uh-uh, this yo pussy. Treat her right,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over your overheated skin. 

His fingers were too much. You reared up as another orgasm tore through you. Like a mini tornado. You shook, your eyes crossed, and pleasure whipped you into a chaotic frenzy. As you were still cumming, Tyrone pulled out long enough to flip you onto your back.

Your hands flew to his chest, but he ignored you. The nigga had a demon inside of him. He licked his lips as he rammed back inside of you. Your back bowed off of the bed. 

“What the fu–” 

“Ima need one more, pretty girl,” he said. He pressed his chest into yours. His sweat mixed with yours. You slid easily against him, both panting and grunting and rutting like two mu’fuckas in heat. 

“I can’t–”

“Sure you can. It’s your pussy, you can do what you want,” he murmured into your neck. He lifted his head and kissed you. 

You were stunned, gasping, and he took advantage licking the lip gloss from your lips. His tongue played with yours. 

On the heels of your last orgasm, he pulled another one from you. Like a little thief. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Surely, you saw stars. The universe. You knew every answer known to man in that moment. You touched another reality as your body flooded his dick. 

He slipped out and he frantically shoved back in. “That’s right. You treat that pussy well,” he said. He continued to kiss you and fuck you through it. You couldn’t comprehend anything beyond his dick ramming inside of you as if he were truly trying to steal your guts. 

Distantly, you heard your ringtone. “Ignore it,” you said against his lips. 

“Answer it,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Answer. That. Shit.” Every word was a deeper stroke. How was he not as deep as possible already?!

You turned your head, your hand frantically reaching through your red sheets for your phone. Vaughn’s name flashed on the screen. Fuuuuuck. 

Pressure built in your lower belly. You clenched around Tyrone’s thick dick. “On speaker,” Tyrone said with a smirk. 

Your hand shakily swiped to answer and then you put him on speaker. You laid the phone on your chest. Tyrone seemed to like that because he grinned and then turned his attention to your abandoned nipples.

He suckled one into his mouth. “H-Hello?” You answered, trying to sound like you weren’t getting your guts rearranged. 

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that I was five minutes out.” Vaughn had a deep voice too. Not quite as deep as Tyrone’s. But it still lovingly caressed your ears.

“I’m so sorry. I uh-” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He was so damn big. His thrusts turned shallow, giving you a little room to breathe. His tongue laved around your nipple, sending sharp tugs to your pussy. 

“I should’ve texted,” you said. Your voice sounded strained to your own ears. If Vaughn wasn’t dumb, he’d know that you were doing something nasty. With someone that wasn’t him. 

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath?” Vaughn asked.

“I feel so sick.” You bit your lip again as Tyrone nibbled. He threw you a wink and then slammed into you once. You heaved and hoped it didn’t sound like a moan. 

“Do you want me to bring something over? I just passed a store,” Vaughn said. 

Take the fuckin’ hint, damn! “That’s–sweet. No, I’ll call, okay?” You asked.

“Alright. I’ll check on you. I hope you feel better.” He was so sweet. Dumbass. 

“Okay, byee!” You hung up the phone just as Tyrone increased his strokes. His balls slapped against your wet pussy, your sheets drenched from your orgasms.

“This yo pussy?” Tyrone asked as he threw his head back and finally came, flooding you with his cum.

“Shiiii–” You came with him, both of you mutually lost to it. To the heat and pleasure chasing around and around inside your body. 

Tyrone grabbed your wrists as his dick pulsed inside of you. You felt the spurts leaking out of him. He pressed your wrists close to your head. He grunted as he felt you clenching and unclenching around him, greedily sucking it all in. 

“Sorry about your date,” Tyrone panted and grinned.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” you said and chuckled. 

“Let’s throw on one of them corny ass shows and I’ll eat you out again.” He kissed along your jaw, wiggling his hips a bit so you knew he was still thoroughly lodged there, burying his cum deep inside you. 

Well, who were you to complain? You ain’t want to go out that badly anyway.

Whew! You feelin' alright? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

[siriusleee]

Like Blood on Iron | Part 4

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: smut, female x male sex, blood, death, decapitation

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Three very important updates for you guys, please read:

My tag list has gotten way longer than I'd ever expected it to get. Honestly, I thought I'd have like 3 readers and that's it. It is taking me almost an hour to get everyone tagged, update the tag list, and go back to old posts and comment to people who Tumblr won't let me tag. Because of this I will no longer be doing a tag list. In an effort to make this easier on myself and get these posts out faster, please subscribe to my Ko-fi page OR enable notifications for when I post. Subscribing to Ko-fi costs nothing, and I do not expect you to send me any money. It's just the one page I have that I can send out quick updates.

However, I am currently super poor. For anyone that doesn't know, I am an English Literature teacher. This year I moved from middle school to high school, and buying all the supplies that I need for this new grade level is killing me. I am working at a part-time job to afford it, but if you can and want to, I'd love it if you donated. I just bought $40 worth of glue sticks; it's very expensive. You can donate through my Ko-fi. Thank you to @gazs-blue-hat and @devcica for donating to my wisdom teeth surgery - I just made the first payment; I love you guys.

I did not edit this. I literally finished and am hitting post; school starts tomorrow and the first 3 weeks are so exhausting, I will be going to bed at 4 p.m. each day. So I wanted to get this out to you. Adamantine Chains will have a new chapter posted tomorrow. If you see any egregious errors, please point them out and I will fix them. previous chapters + future preview: - one - two - three - preview

The sound of Lily's soft breath in your ear tries to lull you to sleep, tries to force your jaw to relax but you can't. For the first time since your outburst with Jonathan, Lily had crept into the bedroom the two of you used to share. She had curled into your side; her breathing wasn't even before the door cracked open again and Maggie snuck in to sandwich Lily between yourself and her.

Lily's hair tickles your shoulder as you keep your eye on the window - the warmth is fading faster each night, but when you tried to close it before you went to bed you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You needed the feeling of the cool air in the room. 

"Are you going to watch?"

Maggie's voice is so quiet it seems to get carried away by the wind. The bed shifts as she turns to look at you over the crown of Lily's head peeking above the covers. You turn, fingers brushing Lily's hair out of your way. In the darkness, Maggie's eyes gleam at you. 

"I don't know. He told me not to, but I think Father will make us."

Maggie breathes in sharply - once - just enough for you to know whatever she's about to say angers her.

"I think Father is making everyone go. Why did he tell you not to go?"

You want to tell her his name - as much as you know - is Ghost. To call him by his name, but you keep that information tucked close to your chest. 

"I don't know; he didn't say."

The conversation hangs in the air between the two of you, floating with the dust that blows in from the windowsill. Maggie's eyes burn across to you before she rolls back away from you, her hair dark against the pillow, curling down her neck. Mirroring her you roll away, eyes focused on the silver starlight you can see out the window.

You awake to soft hands shaking you awake; through your sleep you see Mother pressing one finger to her lip. Her eyes say it all to you - it's time. You slip out of bed leaving the warmth of Lily behind as the cool morning washes over the bare skin that shows from your nightgown. Mother hands you a dress, a thick black one. The same one you knew Maggie wore two years ago when Father's mother died. 

You pad out the room behind her, trying not to wake Lily up. You let the bedroom door shut softly behind you before you speak.

"I have to go?"

"Lily is staying behind with the Morris girls. Your father expects the rest of us to be there." Mother's voice is tight; she's already dressed in a black dress, simple and loose fitting. She refuses to make eye contact with you as she speaks. "I will be downstairs. You have to be dressed soon."

You dress quickly, ducking back into the room to grab your boots and underdress. Back in the hallway, Maggie crosses you, dark purple shadowing under her eyes - you expect the same exhaustion to be painted across your face. 

The temperature feels twenty degrees colder downstairs; you wrap your arms around yourself. Father is absent from his place at the table. A single slice of toast sits in front of Maggie, the neatest nibble taken from one corner. You drop down across from her and neither of you speak. 

A knock at the door jolts your heart - you shove away from the table before Maggie can. On the other side stands Mrs. Morris and her two daughters, still in their sleeping clothes and barely awake. Without her having to ask, you take one of the girls from her; Mrs. Morris follows you quietly to your bedroom where you tuck both girls in beside Lily. They fall asleep almost immediately.

On your way out of the room, you shut the window, pulling the latch down so that they can't see outside.

You wait at the dining table with Maggie; Mother and Mrs. Morris speak quietly in the kitchen. When the morning bell tolls, the two of them emerge out of the kitchen. You and Maggie follow behind them, pulling your cloaks off the hook by the front door when you pass by. You wish instead to have Ghost's cloak, the heavy and warm scent of him enveloping you instead of the cold wool you wrap around your shoulders. 

The four of you fall in line with the rest of the village, letting the wave of bodies push you toward the town center. Each step you take is heavier, harder to take than the one before. Ghost's voice, warning you not to come, not to watch, rings in your ear with a high-pitched drone that grows louder with each moment. The square is almost full whenever you arrive; you let yourself get pushed away from your Mother and Maggie until you're situated near the far side of the square, right where Ghost will first walk in.

The crowd tries to situate themselves as the council shuffles onto the platform. Your father stands at the back, face pale and empty. Even from this distance, you can see the tremor in his hands as he walks. Behind him, shackled in heavy iron chains, Uncle Henry walks up the platform escorted by two men you've never seen before. His face is gaunt and slack, his lip torn and blood dripping onto his chin.

The abject horror of it hits you all at once and you realize why Ghost had warned you not to come. All at once you think about the executions you had sat in your bedroom trying to strain to see, all the times you watched Ghost come up the street eager to get a glimpse of him and all the families that had been in the same place as yours is now. You think of all the times Father left his boots outside after execution and wonder if blood had splashed on them. You feel sick, horrified. You want to search out the families who had been ripped apart by the executions and beg for their forgiveness. 

A hush falls over the crowd like a velvet blanket pulled up too high. You strain past the ringing in your ears to try to hear the heavy sound of boots that you've gotten used to hearing in the midnight light. The sound is different now, leadened and sinister. Drawing your hood over your head you keep your eyes fixed on the point you know Ghost will emerge from. 

He seems to dwarf everyone in the crowd when he arrives, sword glinting in the early morning sunlight. You're torn between trying to press closer to him and pulling away as the thought of what he's about to do courses through you. He walks slowly, regret heavy in each of his steps as he mounts the platform. 

The head councilman speaks, but you can't hear him above the roar in your ears as you watch Ghost situate himself to the side of Uncle Henry. He turns his face towards the crowd and his eyes search through every person before they land on you. He shakes his head just a fraction of an inch, and you know he's telling you to look away - to walk away before he swings his sword.

But you're rooted to the spot - you can't move as the councilman stops speaking and Ghost raises his sword, his eyes still locked on yours.

There's a moment's pause when his sword reaches its apex - a moment where you hope he'll lower it down and walk away. But the sword falls heavy; you manage to clench your eyes shut at the right second, but you still hear the heavy sound of Uncle Henry's head hitting the wood, and your mother's scream.

When darkness falls, no one stops you from walking out the front door. Father had not come home - you knew he was burying Uncle Henry somewhere, and Mother had to be carried to bed by you and Maggie. Upstairs you'd heard Lily sobbing; Maggie was the only one to witness you slip out the front door. 

The red that dripped off of Ghost's sword as he walked back home is long gone in the dust and daytime; even so, you imagine that you can see it trailing in front of you as you walk, tripping over stones in the dirt. There's betrayal here, you know, running away to the home of the man who executed your uncle, but you don't know anywhere else to go. 

Eyes peer down at you from their windows as you pass through the village, but for once you don't care if anyone runs home to tell on you. You're not sure Mother or Father would even be able to comprehend what you were doing anyway. 

Like he knew you were coming, Ghost sits on the step, hands folded neatly in front of him. He doesn't look up at you, doesn't rise until you're within touching distance. An empty glass sits at his side; without speaking, he pushes himself to a standing position, glass snagged up in his large hand. You don't wait for him to beckon you as he walks inside.

You grimace at the warmth of the whiskey as it goes down your throat. You had never liked the taste of alcohol, but when Ghost sat it down in front of you you had reached for it without hesitation. The glass is heavy in your hand.

"I told you not to come," Ghost says, lowering himself down into the seat across from you. His voice is stern, but without any judgment for you attending the execution.

"I didn't have an option." You speak so quietly, you're not sure if he hears you over the wind and the crackle of the fire. 

"You always have a choice."

"No, you always have a choice. You are a man; you don't understand what it's like to have someone dictate your entire life to you. I had no choice because my father said I had to go. And soon it won't be my father telling me what to do, but Jonathan. And I'll be shackled to a life of listening and obeying."

You shove the glass you'd drained towards Ghost, shaking your head at him when Ghost moves to fill it again.

"I'm sorry your father forced you to watch." 

"My father," you pull your tangled hair over your shoulder, running your fingers through it to distract you from Ghost's eye burning at you over his mask, "thought that if we didn't come, it would show some level of guilt. I should be thankful that he let Lily stay home, but-"

"But what?"

"But I saw what the execution did to my mother. My mother is not a weak woman, but she didn't want to go. She can't do blood - it makes her sick for days. My father told me once it had to do with something she saw as a child, but wouldn't tell me more. She never attends the executions. But he forced her, knowing she's going to be regulated to the bed for the rest of the week. And I-"

You can't get the thought out - that you are a horrible person for how excited you used to be for the executions. Ghost waits patiently, leaning back in his chair, the wood creaking underneath him. You study the patterns of scarring on his fingers as they splay across the table. They're clean, no blood and dirt crusted beneath them.

"I am a horrible person," you finally sob out, fingers pressing into your eyes to try to press the tears that threaten to come out, "I have spent months waiting for an execution to come around; all I wanted to do was see you - I didn't think about everyone that was losing their life. Or their families, or you."

"Or me?" Ghost's voice is rough; you pull your fingers away from your eyes to look into his; they're dark and unreadable. 

"I've never thought about what you must experience - doing the bidding of the council."

"I think you'll find I know more about being forced into doing things I don't want to do than you think."

The wind increases outside, the sound of leaves and sticks hitting the sides of Ghost's cabin. You wonder if it's Uncle Henry, angry with the town and determined to tear it apart. 

"How did you end up here?" The question tumbles out of your mouth, and you feel ashamed as soon as you say it. Ghost's eyes flash, his nails dig into the wood of the table. You expect him to ignore you, but he pushes his hands into the collar of his tunic, and pulls out a necklace. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls it from around his neck and flings it to you. It lands a tangled mess in front of you.

"Read it." His voice is a solid command you follow, fingers tracing the edge of the cross as you pick it up; the metal chain snakes across the grain.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley - King's Guard 141st Division - you were in the King's army?"

"I was a part of the King's Guard; we were tasked with protecting the king when he traveled or during battle. There were four of us."

"What happened to the others?"

"I'm all that remains of the 141. We were-" his voice is whiskey thick, and when he swallows, you hear the heaviness of it, "ambushed. I was not able to save them. And so my punishment for not dying with my brothers was to live out my days as an executioner."

The metal is warm against your fingers, as you trace the engraved letters of his name. Simon Riley. Thoughts swirl in your head, and he seems to read them as you reach across the table to pass the necklace back.

"In this house you can call me Simon. Outside only Ghost."

The weight of the day - of Simon's background pushes against you. The small patterings of rain begin to hit the windows as you stand, taking your glass off of the table. You leave Simon as you refill the glass, bringing an extra for him. You drink yours in one go, refilling it again before you pass Simon his. 

The corners of his eyes are tight as you step beside him, the glass held out to him. His hand wraps around your wrist, warm and electric. A stone settles in the pit of your stomach as a fire spreads across your skin from where he grabs you. 

"You drink much more and you won't be able to make it up the path home."

"Just put me under the table then."

The corners of his eyes relax, and then turn up just slightly as he takes the glass from you with the hand not holding your wrist. He keeps you close to his side as he uses the hand with the glass to push his mask up just over his nose; the edge of a ragged scar peaking out on his cheek. He downs the drink in one go and grabs the glass you'd intended for yourself before finally letting you go.

You'd never enjoyed the way being drunk had made you feel, but as the world outside Simon's cabin swirls around you, you feel nothing but the warmth of the whiskey in your veins. The rain falls slow and heavy, warm despite the cool wind that had taken over the village. You reach one hand out to let the droplets pool into your palm, the rest of you shielded by the small awning above you.

The door opens behind you, the dim firelight spilling onto the rain soaked ground in front of you. The shape of Simon wraps its shadow around you along with the musky smell of him. You watch his shadow as he leans against the doorframe.

"We could run away together."

You had thought about it for a few weeks now. It had started out as a ridiculous fantasy - the two of you riding out on horse in the middle of the night and disappearing into the forest together. It had started out innocently enough, just the two of you escaping with each other, but now -

"Where would we even go?"

Simon's voice is soft, rolling through the rain drops as it passes by you. The timbre of it makes your mouth dry, or maybe it's the whiskey.

"Anywhere. Across the sea. Somewhere just far enough that know one would know who we are."

Simon's shadow ripples; you watch his shadow as he reaches to his chest, to where you know the cross hangs. 

"You could go," he says, "but I will always be marked."

You don't know what he means, can't remember if he's told you something or not. But you let the reckless abandon that started building at you so much earlier in the day take over you. Simon's figure backed by the firelight makes your fingers itch to reach out and tangle them in the front of his tunic.

"But would you go?" You ask, voice rising and falling. "If you could, would you go with me?"

The silence stretches thin. Simon chews on the inside of his lip; the doorway groans beneath his fingers as they dig into the wood. 

"You're drunk," he finally says, the words falling from him. "And you're not happy. I should take you home." His warm hand wraps around your elbow; you jerk it back and in your drunken state stumble. You try to catch yourself, but your feet slip. Simon tries to catch you, his hands wrapping around your elbow, but your feet tangle together and the two of you fall. Simon twists, getting his body halfway underneath yours. 

The two of you land hard in the mud, your forehead clipping his chin. The two of you lay awkwardly, one of your hands on Simon's chest and the other buried in the mud. You try to push yourself up, hand slipping, to peer down at Simon lying beneath you. Mud is splattered across the exposed skin around his eyes. He reaches the hand that had wrapped around your back - the only part of him that has escaped the mud- to your forehead, fingers gently wiping away the warmth that had started to form there.

"You're bleeding."

"Is it deathly?

"I think you'll live."

He pulls his hand away, covered in your blood, and the rain washes it away slowly - the red tinge traveling down his wrist and disappearing into the hem of his tunic. You feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as you shift so that you're straddling one of his legs. 

"Can I ask for a favor Simon?" You swallow heavily, trying to swallow down the nervousness and embarrassment that's threatening to explode out of you.

"Anything."

A red blush starts to creep up your chest as you speak, each word measured and bitten off carefully - worried that if you speak too fast, Simon will disappear.

"I won't lie and say I haven't kissed my fair share of boys. But I've never - I've always been too worried to - to do anything more."

You feel Simon's thigh tense between your legs, and the feeling tightens the knot inside of you.

"If I'm going to be forced to give myself to someone I don't want to, I want to keep something for myself. I-"

Simon's hands tighten painfully around your waist; you hadn't even realized he'd grabbed you or that your hands had snuck down so that they framed his face, your wet hair creating a curtain between the two of you and the rest of the world. 

"There are some things you can never take back - that you may regret." 

"Why would I regret you?"

Your question cracks the tension between the two of you for weeks. You collide together, the kiss frenetic, your teeth clicking against each other as Simon tangles his hands in your hair and pulling you closer to him. 

He pushes the two of you up, grabbing you beneath your thighs as he rolls and stands, pulling you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist as Simon stumbles back into the cabin. Your fingers tease the edge of his mask; Simon shakes his head and you pull them away, still worried that at any second he's going to tell you to go home. 

Your shoulder hits the doorway of his bedroom, but you barely feel it as Simon kicks the door shut behind you, darkness enveloping the two of you. This time when you reach for his mask, Simon doesn't stop you from sliding it off of him. His hair is warm and wet; your fingers catch on the tangles there. 

Simon presses your back against the doorway as he lowers yourself to your feet. You pull away from him, unable to catch your breath as your hands slide beneath his tunic. His skin is soft and scarred; you trace your fingers across a jagged one that bisects his chest. Simon's breath hitches when you trace it to his nipple, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 

Simon lets you pull his tunic off of him, his fingers tracing the lacing on the front of your dress. He hesitates there, waiting for you to say no, to push him away.

"You've seen me naked before," you whisper, trying to loosen the tension, your fingers curling around the waistband of his pants. "No reason to be nervous now."

"It's different," Simon says, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck, tongue trailing upwards to the shell of your ear, "to think about what it would be like to touch you, and actually doing it."

His admission that he's thought about you like that - the same way you had shamefully thought of him on nights alone in your bed - sends a spear of want through you. You pull him closer, straining to reach up and kiss him again, but Simon keeps himself away.

"You can go home," he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh, "I wouldn't be angry with you. I would find no fault with you at all."

And you know he's telling the truth - if you said so at any point, he'd let you leave and wouldn't hold it against you. But you can't even entertain the idea - the instinct to wrap yourself around him, to claw at him and at yourself until the two of you are open for each other, is too much.

You reach up and place your hands over his, guiding them so that they pull at the laces of your dress, the bodice falling open. You shrug out of it, letting it pool at your feet as you kick it away. Simon's hands linger chastely at your side, fingers barely skimming your skin.

"I'm not breakable Simon."

"Of course you are," Simon sighs as you trace your fingers softly up his neck and to his cheek. His breath hitches as your fingers tease the edge of the scar you'd caught a glimpse of earlier when the two of you were drinking. You trace it, trying to map the features of his face. It ends at his hairline, a second scar bisecting it.

"It's my cross to bear." Simon's voice rumbles deep; you can feel it in your chest. "It's my mark as an executioner - the righteous hand of God."

I will always be marked, he had said earlier and you realize what he'd meant. 

Simon wraps his hands around the back of your knees; he pulls you up until you're forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep from falling. He kisses you again, clumsy - you can feel him shaking beneath the soft skin of your hands. He pulls your hair so that your neck is exposed to him; Simon trails kisses down, nipping at your collarbone.

He's hot, his skin and mouth burning you up. You try to grind yourself against him, to get some sort of friction, but Simon's hands keep you just far enough away from him to drive you crazy. His knees hit the side of the bed and buckle; he drops you gently to the bed. The dark scent of him, and the whiskey that still pulls at you makes your head swim. 

Simon's hands are firm on your knees as he pushes them apart and pinning you down.

"If I start to hurt you-"

"Simon, please." 

He presses your thighs down harder to the bed, stopping your squirming. 

"It can hurt. If I start to hurt you, I need you to say something; I need you to promise that you will."

His fingers have inched upwards and you try to buck your hips and make the connection; Simon digs his nails into the sensitive skin of your thighs and the feeling makes you gasp - more electric than anything you've experienced before. 

"I," you swallow hard, Simon's nails scratching down you lightly pulling all the air from your chest, "I promise."

You're ashamed of the moan that you let out when his mouth finds your core, your back arching off of the bed. Simon's tongue is velvet on you, lapping at your wetness with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from his size. 

You'd listened to other girls in the village talk about this - about their quick trysts with the boys in the village and how it felt to be pawed at. But this - this was like nothing you'd ever imagined it could be, and nothing like the girls described it as. 

Simon's hands keep your knees apart as his tongue swirls your sensitive spot; your back arching off of the bed as you grind down onto him. His fingers trace patterns in the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. When his fingers reach your wetness, you can't help but clench your knees around him, nervousness and embarrassment filling you. You had never let any of the boys you'd kissed touch you - the thought of their fingers inside of you disgusting, but the want for Simon to stretch you out is enough to make you pull away - not sure how to react. 

Simon's tongue slows as he pushes your knees back down with one arm, his mouth pulling off of you with a pop. In the absence of him you buck your hips, but he doesn't move. He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, and when he speaks, the brush of his lips on your skin makes you shiver.

"We don't-," he swallows, heavy in the darkness, "we can stop if you want."

"No." It's a pathetic whine. You can feel his smile against your thigh, teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're going to want me to stretch you out a little."

His words pull a gasp out of you; you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. Simon's hand traces your wetness gently, before he pushes in one thick finger. It burns as he pumps in and out of you; you're so tight he can barely move in and out of you. You can't tell how long it takes before the burn starts to dissipate; like he can read your body, Simon slips another finger in.

Simon works you until you're comfortable; the sounds you make are filthy. You're so wet you feel yourself dripping onto Simon's wrist. He latches onto your apex, and the feeling sends you over the edge. You come with a choked sob; you try to reach down and stop his hand, but he pushes you away and continues until you can't take it anymore. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, as you beg incoherently - but you're not sure what you're begging for. 

Even in the darkness, Simon's a shadow when he crawls up your body, lips skimming your hip bone, your stomach, your collarbone. A muscle twitches in your thigh; you can't catch your breath in the heat that radiates off of Simon as he dips his head down to kiss you. You dig your nails into his side, and buck your hips up, but he pushes them back down gently with one hand. 

Simon pulls away just enough to speak, lips brushing against your as he does.

"If you want me to stop-"

You feel crazed - the way you claw into him, trying to pull him into yourself, the way your lips crash against his, teeth clicking together in a way that would be painful any other time. Simon snakes his hand between the two of you; you jump when it brushes past your clit. You can feel yourself dripping already - wetter than you'd thought you could get. 

Simon lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses, resting his hand on your chest. His fingers stretch across the expanse of skin, calluses raising gooseflesh.

"You're shaking."

And you are; it's overwhelming - the smell of him enveloping you, the expanse of his body, hard muscle under a layer of soft downy, and being broken down by him. The thick feeling of being stretched out. 

"I'm alright."

It comes out whispered and broken, but you are. You've never felt like this; never thought that you would. You wrap one hand around this wrist at your chest and beg.

"Simon please. I can't - I," you can't get the words out, can't explain that you can't take the feeling of being empty; of being without him. 

Simon presses into you, just barely, but it's enough to make your back arch and your nails to scratch down his arm. He hisses at the feeling, teeth nipping at your earlobe. He moves slowly; the sharp feeling of him is enough to cause you to hyperventilate. On instinct, you press your hands to his chest; you can feel his desire to move faster in the way his muscles bunches beneath your touch. 

"Do I need to stop?"

"No - it's just - you're too much."

You can feel his smile, brief and small, as he presses his face into your shoulder before he bites down. Hands finding his hair, you grip tight enough that you're sure it must hurt him, but he doesn't say anything.

You can feel every inch of him stretching you out; Simon's voice is soft in your ear as he whispers to you to relax - that you're doing so well. One of his hands trace down your side, trying to soften the gooseflesh. The other pushes your hair away from your forehead, fingers pausing at your temple. 

The world pauses when he bottoms out; you can feel him in your throat - he's burning you up from the inside, his skin fire against your own. Simon's mouth his hot against your skin as he trails kissed across your neck. You know there will be marks there tomorrow - something you'll have to hide - but you don't ask him to stop; you beg him to keep going. 

"I need you to relax, my love." His soft voice in your ear makes your fingers curl against the blanket bunched beneath you. "You're too tight."

You try to relax beneath him, but you can't - you can't.

"I can't."

"Just breathe love."

You focus on the movement of his chest against yours, and try to synch your breathing with his. Simon lays his hand against your throat, your pulse slowing beneath the pads of his fingers. His tongue snakes out to trace the shell of your ear, and he rocks himself against you.

You're ashamed of the sounds that escape you, you press your hand to your mouth to try to muffle yourself, but Simon pries your hand away and places it on his shoulder.

"Don't try to be quiet."

His words cut into you, and you grind yourself against him trying to match the rhythm he's setting. 

Sweat and slick mix between your thighs; Simon pushes your knees towards your chest and the shift in angle tugs at something inside of you; you can feel yourself unraveling faster than you did earlier. Simon's nails dig into your skin as he moves faster. Your hands press on his chest, his stomach, trying to find some space to breathe, but his grip on your waist doesn't let you move.

Simon finds a brutal pace. You dip your fingers between the two of you until you can feel him pumping in and out of you; Simon moans at the feeling, nails piercing your skin hard enough to make you gasp. 

He grabs the hand you have between the two of you and guides your fingers to your apex, forcing you to swirl your fingers around yourself. 

You try to commit the feeling of him to memory: the texture of his skin, the sound of him panting in your ear, the feeling of his thumb tracing the contours of your nipple. Your second orgasm starts to break around you, and in the haze, you realize that you will never have this kind of moment with someone else.

The thought puts a knot in your throat; you pull Simon down to kiss him; he must sense your desperation as he slows down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

His body shudders once and he pulls out; you feel the heat of him spill out across your stomach. The wild thought of reaching down, and taking some onto your finger to taste possesses you, but your fingers are still clutching at Simon. You can't figure out how to loosen your grip.

Simon pants between your thighs, one hand still wrapped around your neck as he shifts so that he's laying down beside you. You shuffle, kicking the blanket down beneath you until you're able to pull it up around you. 

You want to say something, anything to dissipate the air that stills around the two of you. But as Simon pulls you into his chest, anything you could think of is washed away. 

Tag List:

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythot, @hearts4sky, @crystallizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0t3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild, @crowsjourney, @c0pernicus, @wistfullyhypomanic, @arbesa-mind, @ray-rook, @daisyfrubies, @september-22-1996

If you are on my tag list - please read my author's note!

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday ☕

Tagged by the lovely and talented @theotherbuckley @tizniz @daffi-990 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie

@spotsandsocks @indestructibleheart @racerchix21 Please go visit their amazing snips, audio and art! 💖

It's still Wednesday somewhere right? Ok, so this post about Tommy grabbing Buck's hoodie from @whollyjoly has been haunting me (in the best possible way) for a few weeks. Earlier today it came up when I was chatting with Bee and, well, here we are. From my brain to your dash.

Tommy is... well, to say he's not a morning person is a bit of an understatement. The only reason he prefers to see the sun come up is because he hasn't gone to bed yet. So, when Coleson lands in the hospital for appendicitis and shifts get moved, Tommy is less than thrilled. But, it's his job - his career - that he happens to enjoy very much. He gives himself two minutes to grumble before telling himself to get over it. Telling Evan had been even less fun. He understands, of course. They've both been in the business long enough to understand that things change and being flexible is par for the course. It's just that they finally seemed to have gotten into a decent cadence with their schedules and figuring out how to have regular date nights where they aren't exhausted or rushing off to a shift. C'est la vie or whatever. "Five more minutes?" Evan mumbles, tightening his hold as Tommy tries to extricate himself. He chuckles and rubs his thumb over Evan's birthmark. "That was your five more, baby." Evan slowly blinks his eyes open and pouts unapologetically. "Don't even try because it won't work," Tommy says. "Unless you've got some secret in with my boss that will let me be late.” "No." Evan somehow manages to pout even more. "But it was worth a shot, right?" Warmth floods through his chest, radiating out like liquid sunshine. The temptation to call off and stay in bed all day is overwhelming. But Tommy's a big boy. As such he's going to win the war over Evan's incredibly adorable puppy eyes and go to work. "It was a valiant effort." Tommy kisses the tip of Evan's nose before capturing his lips, morning breath be damned. "Better luck next time, kid." "Go. You're gonna be late." Evan playfully shoves his shoulder. It's so easy and fun and light and- what was it Casey McQuiston wrote? Oh, right. Alex is so in love he could die. That. That's what Tommy feels. He just hopes Evan doesn't run when Tommy finally gets the courage to say it out loud. He leans in for one more kiss before shimmying out from under the covers. The extra five minutes he gave Evan turned out to be closer to fifteen and now he has to rush to throw himself together. He allows for a quick rinse in the shower before hastily throwing on jeans, a tee and hoodie. "Thanks, babe." Tommy takes the travel mug of coffee Evan hands him and settles for giving him a peck on the cheek so he doesn't undo all the work of trying to be on time. "Be safe," Evan says, no less sincere than the first time. It's said with care, as part of this ritual they're developing. Not because it's a habit or a meaningless platitude. But because it’s intentional. “Of course.”

It is crazy late so take this for today or another tag day. LMK if you'd rather not be tagged for BuckTommy stuff. I get it's not everyone's jam. np tagging:

@actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest

@fortheloveofbuddie @weewootruck @saybiwithme mi amor @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6

@ramonaflow @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @mrs-f-darcy @diazsdimples

@drowsy-quill @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @wikiangela

@underwaterninja13 LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @queenmabcreates

@inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @queerbuckleys

@bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck

@ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland

@wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘