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1920sladydectective · 3 days ago

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Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks.

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you.

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home.

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid.

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately.

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air.

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,”

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,”

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there.

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much.

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere.

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,”

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,”

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,”

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred.

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more.

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place.

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed.

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking.

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork.

It wasn’t enough.

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up.

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil.

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,”

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient.

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,”

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,”

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,”

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,”

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart.

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her.

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,”

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins.

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return.

“Yes, actually,”

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,”

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped.

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,”

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm.

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same.

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys.

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,”

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed.

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen.

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t.

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,”

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise.

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,”

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue.

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it. Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..”

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses.

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine.

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here.

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.”

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles.

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

“Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed.

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,”

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,”

“And look where that got me,”

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours.

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?”

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,”

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,”

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,”

“Stop saying that!”

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,”

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?”

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?”

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy.

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft.

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,”

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden.

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused.

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat.

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead.

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake.

“That was not the only way to do that,”

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion.

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!”

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,”

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher.

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,”

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear.

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,”

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know.

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear.

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,”

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate.

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over.

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about?

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard.

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile.

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,”

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place.

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,”

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car.

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener.

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery.

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her.

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans.

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,”

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,”

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,”

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?”

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,”

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent.

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start.

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized.

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her.

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both.

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin.

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day.

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind.

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator.

Calla Lillies - Beauty.

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly.

“You back with me, babe?”

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely.

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,”

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,”

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation.

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile.

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you.

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips.

“She’s never reliable,”

“She is literally compulsively on time,”

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,”

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother.

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again.

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,”

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?”

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,”

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now.

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours.

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder.

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin.

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table.

“So,” You started, chest tight.

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could.

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers.

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last.

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt.

“So a win-win?”

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it.

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch.

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,”

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped.

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening.

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear.

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough.

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,”

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped.

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,”

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching.

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?”

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good.

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer.

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy.

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again.

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls.

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room.

You were in a bed now. How had that happened?

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on.

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Would you like it?”

A nod.

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures.

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you.

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust.

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours.

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere.

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets.

She loved you.

You loved her.

How perfect.

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together.

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel.

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling.

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her.

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly.

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you.

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer.

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob.

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate.

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat.

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern.

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers.

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,”

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,”

Liar. Her grin gave her away.

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,”

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride.

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,”

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time.

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile.

No more secrets. No more sadness.

You were finally officially a Medarda.

#reader insert #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane #ambessa smut

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teddypines · 3 days ago

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Tea Time

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Summary: Family tea time, with chaos and fluff. The Wayne kids being themselves and weird. Fem!reader, around 6 years old.

Note: This took me a few writer blocks but it is done. I also wish you all very happy holidays and a good new years! Words: 1212 (not on purpose).

Art/picture is from Pinterest, is from the webtoon Wayne family adventures.

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Y/N loved tea time, especially when Alfred made the tea for her and she got to dress up and gather all her plushies around her tiny table set for a tea party. But she loved it more when it was tea time with her family. When her brothers and sisters would dress up with her, it always took some convincing with Jason and Damian, and set round the living room with her. Even if Bruce had the time he would join and Alfred always played butler when that happens, Y/N didn’t quite understand that Alfred was the actual butler just yet.

Y/N wore her pink princess dress and a tiara as she set Fleep and Bee up on the couch. She made sure they were secure on the blanket before dashing off to the kitchen. Running past Tim and Cas, they both knew what time it was. So the two of them decided to gather the others so Y/N had more time preparing for tea and helping Alfred.

“Alfred, Alfred!” Y/N called out as she ran into the kitchen. Big smile on her face when she saw the butler already working on a big pot of tea and a smaller one with coffee, Alfred knew that not everyone in the family liked the taste of tea. Making sure that there would be enough for everyone’s taste. Y/N giggled and made her way to Alfred. “Can I help?" She asked as she held onto the man’s leg, giving the man big puppy eyes as she looked up. “Please!” Alfred could only laugh and nodded his head. “You know where the cake forks and plates are, right?” Y/N nodded her head to Alfred’s question. “Go get them and put them on one of the trays on the island counter.”

Y/N let Alfred go and went to look for the cake plates and forks. The forks were easy to find since they were with the rest of the cutlery in the big drawer. She grabbed the forks and carried them to the kitchen island, struggling a bit when she climbed the stepping stool. “Alfred? Where are the plates?” She asked just to make sure she was going to look for them in the right place. “Lower left cabinet, Y/N/N.” Alfred answered while making the coffee, pouring hot water over a filter, yes Alfred still makes the coffee by hand.

With the directions Alfred gave her, Y/N made her way to collect the cake plates. She walked a few times between the kitchen island and the cabinet where the plates were, making sure to not carry too many at the same time. Too scared to drop any of the plates she carried. After a little while Y/N had made sure that all the plates were safely on the tray next to the forks. Not one plate was dropped. This made Alfred really proud of her, making sure Y/N knew that. “You did a very good job, Y/N.” He praised, actually happy that one of Bruce’s children could be gentle with something as little as a few plates and forks. Remembering the times where the boys tried to help him, only to have a messy kitchen by the end of it.

The smile on Y/N’s face made Alfred’s heart melt a bit. “Wanna help me with decorating the cake?” He asked, Knowing the answer before he even asked the question. “Yes!!!” Y/N answered as she jumped up and down out of excitement. And so the two of them made sure the cake was taken out of the oven and was decorated for tea.

<------------------------------------------------>

Y/N carried the small tray as Alfred carried the big tray with the cake out of the kitchen. Tim and Cas were already in the living room helping with setting up. Damian sat on the couch, mopping with a paper crown on his head. Of course he had to be grumpy about the whole situation. Dick on the other hand just walked over to Y/N to help her, only to be told off. “I can do this myself!” Y/N told Dick as she continued to take careful steps to the coffee table.

Cas laughed when Dick got denied by Y/N. “Aaaw, poor Dickie, even our little sister doesn’t need you anymore.” She teasted, watching as a pout formed on Dick’s face. He didn’t want to be unwanted, especially by his baby sister. Dick quickly focused on something else and started to help Alfred. Cas continued with decorating with Tim and Duke and Barbara got the place settings right.

“Do I really have to be here right now?” Damian asked, only to get yes from everyone in the room. “Fine, but I'm not doing anything.”

“Like hell you are!” Steph hit Damian on the shoulder before punching him off the couch. “You better come and help me with getting dad from the cave.” She ordered. Taking Damian by the arm and taking him away to help with getting Bruce to join them.

<------------------------------------------>

When Bruce Was up from the batcave, Damian was finally being nice and everyone was settled around the coffee table all dressed up and ready for the party.

Y/N smiled and fixed Her crown. “Ehhem, I thank you awll for coming today. We are here to celebwe… celle…” Y/N stuttered a little around the word before Bruce helped her “Celebrate sweetie,”

“celebrate the cake that Alfred made for tea time. It's a red velvet With white chocolate and lemon stuff and cream.” Y/N continued as Alfred Poured the tea into the cups. A smile on his face because of the praise Y/N gave his cake. Everyone else happily moved around the cups Alfred handed out. Adding Sugar and or milk where necessary.

“And daddy has The honor of cutting the cake!” Y/N finished before carefully handing over the cake knife to Bruce. Cake cutting was something special in the Wayne household. No one really knew how to do it properly except Alfred, but they didn't want the butler to do everything. So they did roulette or Bruce had to do it. Since Y/N didn’t want roulette or a fight, daddy had to do it.

The cake was cut and put onto plates. Alfred getting the first piece. It was his creation, his work and his love that went into it, so it was only fair.

Jason fixed The crown on his head and licked His lips, ready to devour the cake on his plate. Only he waited too long and Steph took a little bite from Jason's cake. Jason gasped in response. “You cake thief! And You even took the best bite! You bi…”

“Jason!” Bruce warned his son before grabbing Steph's plate and switched it with Jason's. “You know we don't swear in this household. And you, Steph, we also don't steal from each other's plates.”

“Sorry dad.” Steph answered as she looked down at her knees. “Sorry Jay.” Jason just nodded his head in acceptance and finally got to have a bite of the cake.

Y/N leaned against Dick and looked up at him. “What was Jay gonna say?” She asked, she was just a bit too curious sometimes. Luckily she hadn't found the bat cave just yet. Dick looked down at Y/N and sighed. “I'll tell you when you're older.”

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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*runs to refill tea (and rum)* I'm back, baby! 😎

(Also, before I come across as some drunk, I'd like to clarify I haven't had a drop of alcohol before pregnancy, so Christmas 2022, whoa... 👀🙈😂)

Clearly having a blast and couldn't imagine a better Christmas than reading one of your amazing stories, friend ❤️

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown. When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile.

Loved that little moment of jealousy there. How do you like tasting your own medicine, Russ? 😂

I absolutely loved their pizza and movie date at home. And they already shared so much with each other 🥹 The fact he felt secure enough to open up to her after this short amount of time says a lot, considering Dory hasn't even told her the story yet. I love them 😭🤍

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Honestly, in this day and age, it's always best to wait for renewed consent (even though I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have minded in the least lol). Loved that he recognized that and hesitated!

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

Poor girl 😂💕 The morning after is always a tad awkward – especially if everything is still in the balance of will they/won't they and nothing *sexual* has happened yet 😅

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?” Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. “Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

Absolutely adored this exchange! ❤️

Oooof, and that smut may have been my undoing for tonight! Holy hell!!! 😮‍💨🔥🌶️

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Again, she's so cute 😆🤍

I do hope they work something out. I don't think Russell would've necessarily taken the "big" step, knowing her feelings on this, if he hadn't planned to try and make it work somehow ❤️

He’d found where he wanted to be.

Perfect ending, friend 🥹💚 (You know I love a bit of drama and angst in an ending lol)

I loved this series so goddamn much! It fit so well with every character and gave so much that the show didn't (like that awesome family reunion of the three Shaws). Can't wait to get into the one-shots over the holidays 😍

Again, the merriest of Christmases to you and your family, Alex! Thank you for always being a wonderful friend 🤍🎄

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs.

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said.

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice.

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee.

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that.

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity.

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm.

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley.

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased.

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked.

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below.

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him.

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too.

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today.

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt.

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile.

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you.

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.”

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked.

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up.

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response.

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you.

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move.

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away.

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours.

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully.

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile.

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped.

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed.

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes.

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor.

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said.

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily.

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed.

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw.

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too.

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access.

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers.

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation.

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection.

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.”

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up.

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses.

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering.

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face.

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display.

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both.

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass.

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin.

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him.

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit.

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock.

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast.

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed.

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout.

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying.

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look.

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh.

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance.

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded.

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said.

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly.

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm.

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose.

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips.

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch.

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.

Russell snorted. Right.

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be.

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Want more ESC? Read the next one-shot, Lost Time (18+):

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lost Time

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umathurwin · 3 days ago

Text

get what i want ’cause i ask for it (not because i’m really that deserving of it)

rafe cameron x f!reader; nsfw 18+

Summary: Rafe is so close to receiving the CEO title of his father’s company, he can taste it. But before he can have his dream job, he has to complete the most grueling task he’s ever been given: watch over the bratty heiress of their partner company, who’s decided to make his life hell.

He’s persistent. But so is she.

A/N: tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

“So,” Rafe started, striding into his father’s office and getting way too comfortable in the chair. Ward’s clients would expect nothing less than Memory Foam under their pompous asses, of course– how could you not sink down and kick your feet on the desk? “What’s next for me? Corner office with big windows? Company Lexus? A solid-gold bathroom?”

“I’ll be frank. What the hell are you talking about?”

“When I’m CEO of Cameron Development. Duh. I’ve been hearing the rumors about Maurice retiring, and you’re gonna need someone to fill his role…”

“Easy . You haven’t even been working here a whole year,” Ward reminded him, smacking the peppermint gum Rafe hated. “And your office has big windows!”

“I’m just being cliche. It’s the title that I really want, Dad.”

“Why should I give it to you, though? You’re barely even old enough to be out of college, if you’d gone.”

It stung, when his father reminded him that he hadn’t gone to school. He swallowed anyway. “Don’t need to, not with my work ethic. I take the job you gave me really seriously. All the departments love me, we’ve had great numbers the last three quarters, I’ve secured five deals that we’ve missed out on in the past,” he ticked off. “Tell me why you shouldn’t give it to me.”

Ward leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk rapidly. “Okay, you’re right. I agree. And I actually think I have something in mind that’ll really prove to me you’re worthy of totally running this company with the CEO title.”

Rafe all but purred. “Name it.”

“I should warn you, this is… probably gonna be the ultimate test of how loyal you are to Cameron Development.”

“Jesus, am I gonna have to fight a Jedi, or something?”

“Remember when I ran errands when you were younger, and you acted like it was inhumane torture to watch Sarah for 45 minutes?”

He sulked, already rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. “Oh God. You hired her, too, didn’t you? And here I thought my job was a special offer. Are you giving one to my cousin Tristan, too? Y’know he sits down when he pees?”

“I’m not hiring your sister. Or… your cousin,” Ward sighed. “We have a huge offer coming up soon. We’re teaming up with Kerrington Design to build on the northern side of the island, meaning we’d have properties in every zone. I cannot stress enough how important this bid is, Rafe. Josephine Kerrington will be working with us for the next month or so while we iron out details.”

“This all sounds great so far,” Rafe said. “Where do I come in?”

“Josephine mentioned that she was bringing her young daughter, and that she doesn’t feel comfortable with her being alone. I offered for you to watch over her while she’s here.”

“What?!”

“Look, I know you—”

“Hate dealing with kids? Yeah, I do,” he groaned. “Dad, you realize I have actual work to do around here? I have that O’Brien meeting coming up! How am I supposed to get stuff done with someone playing Webkinz in my office?”

“You love Webkinz.”

“Good Lord. Sure, when I was six!”

“Like I said before,” Ward started, tone carrying a warning out to his son that matched his tilted head, “this is an ultimate test. I’m counting on you to be a good babysitter.” Ward’s phone trilled, forcing a wince onto Rafe’s face, and the older man leaned forward to glance at the screen. “Ah. That’s her now. They’ll be arriving today, so be on the lookout for them, eh?”

Rafe stood up, smoothing out his pants. “Yeah, well, if there’s gonna be a child on the premises, I’m getting a cup of coffee right now.”

“Probably a good idea,” Ward conceded lowly, waving his son out of his office. “Mrs. Kerrington, good morning, it’s so great to hear from you…”

Rafe stepped out and went to the floor’s coffee station, noting an unfamiliar young woman getting herself a cup from the stack of thick cardboard. The company rarely hired people under the age of 25, so he was pleasantly surprised to see someone his own age.

“Morning,” he greeted to get her to turn around, and fuck, she was cute. “I don’t recognize you. New here?”

“You could say that,” the girl cocked her head a little. “Do you know every person who works here?”

He smiled. “Oh, I do a lot of paperwork on all levels. Surely I would’ve remembered you.”

She returned his grin. “You’re sweet. I’m Y/N.”

“My name’s Rafe. Your morning been good so far?”

“So far,” she repeated him in response, returning to her empty cup. “How about yourself?”

“Fine. Just dreading later,” he sighed, reaching behind the supplies in the cabinet to find the mug he’d hidden back there.

She made a little humming noise. “Why? What’s later?”

“Ah, nothing, I just have to babysit some CEO’s daughter for a few weeks. I hope to God I’ll be able to get any work done with a kid running around here, but I’ve got a little sister. I think I’ll be fine.”

The girl nodded, a little slowly to be seen as normal, but she was cute enough that he brushed it off. His eyes trailed down to where she was about to pour the coffee into her cup and he reached out to hold her wrist and stop her actions. “Wait, whoa!”

She gasped, jumping back. “Hey, watch it!” she shook her head, pouring her cup while still a few feet away from him. “It’s hot coffee, dude. What’s your deal?”

“If you pour the powder creamer first, it dissolves when you pour the coffee in,” he explained, shaking his head. “Too late now. You shoulda listened to me.”

“Well, it really doesn’t matter when y’all have thousands of these,” she reached for a coffee stirrer. “You micromanage a lot of shit around here, or am I special?”

He scoffed. “I practically run this place, sweetheart. You should be thanking me for bestowing my wisdom on you. Now, don’t you have something, I dunno, administrative to do?”

“Administrative?” the girl parroted, setting down the stirrer. Her tone was amused, but her eyebrows were still in her hairline. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to women like that?”

“My step-mother,” he corrected, “is a useless witch. So, no.”

Her mouth fell open. “I guess this company is run by an absolute pig.”

He clenched his jaw. Who is this girl, and how dare she speak to him like that? “You better watch how you talk to me before I–”

“Rafe!” Ward called, interrupting his son’s threat and joining the two young adults at the coffee bar. “I see you’ve already met your partner for the next few weeks. How are you, Miss Kerrington?” he turned to warmly address her, reaching out to take her hand politely and shake it. He either didn’t notice the horrific tension between them or was desperately trying to cut it.

The girl smiled. “I’m doing just fine, Mr. Cameron.”

“Please, call me Ward,” he insisted, stepping aside to grab a cardboard cup.

Rafe finally found his voice. “So, Josephine Kerrington…” he started, anxiously looking between her and his father.

“Is my mother,” Y/N finished, tilting her head smugly. “Rafe, was it? Why don’t you show me to your office?”

***

He tried to keep his back straight as he showed her where he worked, and she looked around nosily the second she was inside. While she snooped around his belongings and photos, he took another look at her.

She was wearing a lavender floral dress that was just too short to be considered professional, though those rules clearly didn’t apply to her. When she spun back around to look at him, he had to snap his gaze back up quickly to not reveal he’d been staring at her ass.

“So, Y/N,” he started sheepishly. She set her coffee on the table and he ran over to put a coaster under it. “I think we got off on the wrong foot—“

“Water under the bridge,” she interrupted. “Could you Airdrop the Wifi?”

Rafe stared at her face, expecting her to burst out laughing at him. “I understand all of those words, separately.”

She sighed. “You have wireless internet here, no?”

“We do.”

“And I assume it’s password protected?”

“That’d be a correct assumption.”

“And I also bet it’s harder to type than ‘cameronwifi’?”

He scrunched his face. “It’s some combination of letters and numbers, so yeah.”

She pressed her lips together. “Figured. Open up contacts on your phone.”

Rafe obeyed, though he didn’t know why. Curiosity, maybe? She put in her number then guided him to the Wifi tab and held her phone up. The password to the internet auto-filled on her device and she was already skipping away to use it.

“What? I don’t get a ‘thank you’?” he snorted, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Why? You didn’t even do anything!” She flopped on the couch. “Feel free to text me, now that you’ve got my number.”

He scoffed. “Are you hitting on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, nerd. If I did hit on you, I’d probably comment on your Marlon Brando slicked hair. Heavy gel, in this decade, it’s a sexy and modern choice.”

There was no holding back now. “You’re a brat.”

“Get used to it.”

“Why should I? It’s not like you do anything.”

“You say that like I’m not important.”

“Of course you’re not important here. You—You don’t even have a title!”

“Ah, that’s just not true,” she corrected. “I’m a CTA. Chief Tactics Associate.”

Rafe rubbed at his forehead. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means what I say, goes.”

He snickered. “Is that so?”

“Glad you find it funny. Why do you think I’m even here? My opinion means a lot to my mother, and if I run to her and tell her I don’t like how things are run at your company, she’ll pick up her business and run to the next development firm that’s eagerly waiting to spring properties up on the island.”

Rafe’s stomach turned. With how important this deal was to Ward, she really had the upper hand on him. “Fine. Just stay out of my way while I work, and we should get along alright.”

A smile curled up on her face. “I’ll try my best, sir.”

***

She did not.

When confronted by his son, Ward was not sympathetic. He eventually gave a half-hearted apology but not before bursting out laughing in Rafe’s face. His only defense was something like, “Josephine’s exact words were ‘young daughter’. How was I supposed to know she’s able to vote?”

“I sure love finding you in my office all the time,” Rafe announced sardonically to the girl lying on his comfy leather couch watching loud Tik Toks.

He knew why she hovered, of course. Even if his father hadn’t twisted his arm into watching her, he was one of the few people in the building within ten years of her age. It made sense that she’d linger around him, even if she was a nuisance most of the time.

She didn’t look up from her phone. “It has the best view. Big windows.” She reached into her shirt, dipped into her bra and pulled out what looked like a USB until she brought it to her mouth and sucked.

Rafe reached down to snatch it from her hand and stuck it in his lapel pocket. “Not in my office.”

She waved her hand around annoyedly, letting the tiny wisps of smoke escape from her lips. “Vibe killer. I’ve got another one at home.”

“I’m sure you do,” he muttered, sniffing the air. “Wait. Is this mint? They don’t make JUUL pods in that flavor anymore.”

“I get ‘em from Europe,” she explained impatiently.

He huffed. “How stupid of me,” he noted before stalking over to his computer. He looked around his desk and noticed things were not as he left them. “Goddamnit, quit messing around with my stuff! I’ve told you before, I care ab–” he stopped himself, and the pause actually garnered her attention.

Rafe picked up a stack of documents and inspected them carefully. “Wait. These are the quarterly verification logs?”

“I know what they are. Title at the top and everything.”

“Y/N, I’ve been trying to get these back from credentialing for months. I email them twice a day, they don’t even blink at me. Is this what you did during my meeting?”

“Yeah. I saw you typing one up earlier, so I paid their department a little visit when I was bored. Can I have my JUUL back as a prize?”

Rafe laughed. “I thought you had another one at home.”

“You called my bluff.”

He rolled his eyes, but still reached into his jacket and tossed her the stick. She caught it and took another rip, looking behind him and shaking her head wistfully. “Just imagine what else you could get done if you had a pair of tits to weaponize with every half-witted employee you have crawling around here.”

Hmm. Maybe he didn’t have to imagine.

***

His least favorite part of what he did was dealing with the shareholders, by far.

He gets it. A critical part of the job was kissing rich ass despite them knowing the least about what’s best for the company, because money makes the world go round. But the meetings he was forced to sit in on were like pulling teeth, and every minute he sat in those rooms was a performance. He nodded along, looked over papers and presentations, pretended not to notice the older men had no idea where they were, and shook hands until they slapped their thighs and announced it was time to head out.

Today, the meeting ran over, because none of those antiquated bastards have any concept of time. His skin itched, watching the clock tick minute after minute when he should already be getting back to work. When they finally noticed, Rafe pretended to receive a critical phone call to escape without dealing with their falsely pleasant goodbyes.

Rafe rested his forehead on his office door before going inside. For a moment, he forgot everything that was going on in his life, and prepared himself to enjoy the rest of the day in peace and quiet.

Except, he couldn’t, because Y/N was sitting in his chair, feet kicked up on his desk, with one of his lollipops in her mouth. He deflated, walking over to see what she was doing. Rafe groaned when his eyes landed on a coloring book and some crayons in her lap, and was especially peeved that she was too focused on Aurora’s hair to look up at him.

“What are you, five?” he sneered, picking up a completed Ursula and Ariel sheet off his desktop. “That’s you,” he said, pointing to the villainous witch.

Y/N’s eyes flicked up annoyedly and she took the sucker out, letting it clack on her teeth. “Yeah, and you’re so mature.” Without breaking eye contact, she placed the glistening lollipop right on his desk.

“Damnit, you–,” he sputtered, picking up the candy and remorsefully throwing it away. He swiped at the wet spot that remained and brought his fingers to his lips without thinking. It looked like the wood was too dark to show a stain anyways. “You win. Just, please get up.”

She waved around to the many empty chairs in his office. “Sit somewhere else.”

“It’s my office,” he scoffed. “Get up. Or you can sit in my lap, if you want,” Rafe added with a smirk.

Y/N grimaced. “Do I need to go to HR?”

“Best of luck with that, doll. The Lead HR lady is my godmother.”

She paused her coloring to look up at him. “Tell me, is there anyone in this building you don’t have a familial relation to?”

“Our CTA.”

“You’re funny.”

“I know. That’s why I thought you’d jump on the offer to sit on my lap.” She ignored him again, returning to coloring the pink dress. Rafe glanced at the stack of manila envelopes on his desk and an idea popped into his head. “Say, has my father shown you the mail room here?”

She lifted an eyebrow–he almost laughed at how easy she was to entertain. “Mail room?”

He nodded. “Yeah, real shiny place. There’s tubes all over the building that we shoot letters into that all lead to the mail room downstairs. It’s a really cool set-up, and I think you’d like it.” He looked at his desk again, feigning surprise. “Oh, hey! And these need to be sent out anyways. They don’t fit in the chutes, so you have an excuse to snoop around there.” He picked up the stack and held them out to her, fully expecting her to snort and tell him to shove them up his ass. It’s what his sister would do.

But to his complete surprise, she nodded wordlessly and set her colors down. She took the envelopes and skipped out of the office on a mission.

Shit. Maybe he could make this work.

***

Two hours later, Rafe burst out of his own office, crashing right into his father.

“Hey, I was just coming to check on you,” he greeted before noticing Rafe’s sour expression. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Ward asked, holding out a hand to his son’s chest to slow him down.

“Oh, nothing. Just that Y/N painted her nails in my room earlier,” he huffed. Likely because she wanted to cover up the scent of her dab pen, he really wanted to add on. “I made her count reams of paper to make her leave, but the room still smells like chemicals. Getting a migraine.”

“Did you open a window?”

“No, Dad, and I also didn’t try spraying Febreze, so don’t ask,” he snapped.

Ward pressed his lips together, eyebrows lifting softly. “Come sit in my office for a little?” he offered.

Rafe nodded, pressing the up button himself. His phone in his pocket chirped to indicate a text message, but he didn’t move. The phone buzzed over and over, beeping so many times that they were cutting themselves off.

Ward blinked. “Gonna check that?”

“Nope. I know it’s just Y/N.”

“Why is she sending you so many texts?”

“I made the mistake of giving her my number in case she needed anything. Now, she sends me fifty iMessage games if I’m not paying attention to her.” The elevator doors opened again to the top floor. “Dad, you don’t realize. She’s the most annoying pest I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Worse than your sister?”

Rafe hesitated. “She gives her a run for her money.”

***

Y/N bounded up to Rafe the following day, looking from the phone nestled in the crook of his neck to where the cord led back to the desk. She brought a freshly pink-tipped finger to the hook switch and pressed it, ending his call.

“I got the signatures from the guys in accounting,” she announced, pulling the papers out to show him. “Have you actually seen them? They are literally the palest people I’ve ever met.”

Rafe sputtered with anger, slamming the phone back in the cradle. “You didn’t have to do that! I was on hold with a stupid robot.”

“I wanted your undivided attention,” she shrugged.

He massaged at his temples. “Whatever. Thank you for the signatures, I suppose. Say, are you having any trouble with the Wifi?”

To his dismay, her face brightened. “Oh, right! I wanted to ask IT if you can change the password for only the router in your office, and the answer is yes,” she giddily explained, pointing to the white box pinned to the ceiling above her.

“Um, okay. What’s the new password?”

“It’s ‘misskerringtonlovesanal420’, no caps, no spaces.”

He sighed. “Are you serious?”

“Well, I’ve never actually tried doing it. But I wanted to see if I could make the IT guy squirm and he totally–”

“I meant, is it seriously the password?” he stopped her, tired of being reminded that every touch-starved man on the premises was at the sheer whim of this girl.

“See for yourself.”

Click click click. “Ugh, really?”

“Tell me you wouldn’t do this shit if you had the freedom to.”

He didn’t respond to that. It seemed he’d have to try a little harder to keep the girl busy and out of trouble. Rafe slipped a hand into his lapel pocket and pulled out a folded $20, extending it out for her. “If I give you this, will you go to the cafeteria downstairs and get us both turkey sandwiches?”

She took the money and slipped it in her bra, already on her way out. “Yes, but we’re getting rotisserie chicken. They’re so much better.”

“Wait, I want turkey!” he called after her.

“Too bad!”

***

Rafe woke up late.

He’d spent the last week working double time to make sure Y/N stayed out of trouble and his normal tasks were fulfilled. It was no wonder that at some point he’d break and the back-up Pinball alarm would fail him. Why the fuck this had to happen the morning of his O’Brien meeting, he’ll never know.

He ran into his building in such a hurry he felt the soles of his shoes wearing down. He didn’t stop for the doorman, the HR intern, and sure as shit not for his father, who all tried to strike up a conversation.

“Dad, please, I can’t talk right now,” Rafe huffed out to the last one, clicking the elevator button over and over. “I’m super late to a meeting with–”

“This is slightly more important,” Ward insisted. “There was a cyber attack. IT is taking care of it, but something got in through our Wifi, and our emails have been a mess all d–”

“Wait,” Rafe interrupted, ignoring the car arriving at the ground floor. “You said the Wifi?”

“Well, yeah. They said there was a leak at our security company, and any routers with passwords that haven’t been reset in the last month were affected. They’re routinely reset four times a year, so we just got unlucky.”

Rafe was so stunned he had to be pulled onto the elevator by his father. “Is everything alright?”

He tossed around what to do here. If he admitted Y/N dicking around had accidentally protected his router, he’d run the risk of exposing not only how he’d been getting her to do his work but also how he really hadn’t been monitoring her too strictly. Hell, she could’ve done the opposite and totally fucked over their security if she wasn’t careful.

“Yes, actually, I was having trouble and changed my own router last week,” he lied, words fumbling out in a jittery string. “Guess I just got lucky. God, how is this elevator so slow?”

Ward raised his eyebrow at his bouncy son. “Is everything alright?”

“O’Brien meeting in negative two minutes,” he shouted, looking at his watch and slipping through the crack between the barely-open doors. “Damn Irish.”

“It’s funny because we’re actually Scottish!” his father called after him, but Rafe really didn’t care.

He threw open the doors to his own office and waved off a dazed Y/N to run behind his desk. “Hey, Bossman,” she greeted him, clearly oblivious to the rush he was in. “I had a great idea for us to do.”

Rafe dug through his desk drawers, sorting through Sharpies and Post-Its looking for the USB drive holding the O’Brien floor plans. “Lemme get back to you on that.”

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a minute.”

“Y/N, I can’t right now. I’ve got a meeting that I’m already late for, and it’s really important that I–”

“Oh, that? I moved it.”

He halted in his tracks, blood colder than ice. “You moved my meeting with the O’Briens?!” he asked, wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Yeah,” she answered bubbly. “I wanted to get a chocolate croissant at that bakery down the street but they close early in the day, so I called and asked those guys if they’d be okay with the same time tomorrow. All I had to do was say it conflicted with Kerrington business, and they were cool with it. Ready to go?”

Rafe was… fucking flabbergasted. Not only did she take it upon herself to move a career-altering meeting without his permission over a fucking baked good, but she’d used her name to persuade the O’Briens into compliance. He thought back to the wifi– she’d just unintentionally saved his ass, twice, in the same fucking day.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I looked at your calendar first. You’re not busy.”

He couldn’t help himself. Rafe lunged forward, taking her face into his hands and planting a big kiss on her lips. She made a surprised squeak before relaxing into his touch and returning the favor.

When he pulled away, her eyes were still shut for two seconds too long. “Yeah, I could go for a Kouign-amann. After you,” he said, waving his hand out to the door.

***

Rafe had just finished the yellow cross on his Rubik’s cube when his father knocked on the door of his office. He waved him in with two fingers but went right back to diligently solving his puzzle.

“Where is Y/N?” Ward asked, taking a seat in front of his son’s desk.

“Out to lunch with her mother.”

“And you didn’t go with her?” he teased.

This got Rafe to look up from the cube, but he still shot his father an exasperated glare. Not only did that sound like a nightmare and a half, he was a little uneasy about being around her.

He’d acted a little rash yesterday when he was pumped full of adrenaline and stress, he’ll admit it– though, if he had made her uncomfortable with the kiss, she didn’t act like it. She went right back to the hellion force of nature she was before (like forcing him to play 20 Questions with her, and when the person was revealed to be Ghandi, going on a long rant about his problematic behavior as if she hadn’t chosen the man herself). Kinda why he was enjoying the rare peace and quiet he just lost.

“Why’d you stop by?” A much more pleasant way of saying why oh why are you in my office and what’s the quickest way I can get you out.

“At some point I want you to complete the follow-up for the Carroll’s. I know they’re a-holes, so feel free to not put this high on your priority list. I could care less if it gets done by the end of the week, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh, so you haven’t been honest before?” Rafe snapped, getting too frustrated and slamming the Rubik’s cube back down on the desk. “And you mean you couldn’t care less,” he tacked on.

Ward pursed his lips together and tried to hold back a snort. “Okay, let’s make a deal. I won’t use either of those phrases anymore, and you quit taking out your annoyance with Y/N on me.”

“Not really fair, since her antagonism in my life is very much your fault.”

“C’mon, you’ve been doing a great job so far! Is she that hard to get along with?” Ward sighed. “She’s a cute girl who could charm birds out of trees and y’know, she reminds me a lot of you.”

Rafe winced. “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, hush. You’re both hardworking, loyal, and heirs, obviously.”

“How is she hardworking? All she does is traipse around the office and make messes for me to clean up.”

“Really? Because, from what I’ve heard around the office, you’ve turned her into your little administrative assistant. Are you sure that’s what Mrs. Kerrington wants?”

“I don’t know what Mrs. Kerrington wants!” he groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “If you didn’t notice, she kind of dropped a teenager off at my doorstep and made me figure out how to balance watching her and work.”

“She’s an adult,” Ward muttered, sinking down in the chair.

“Those are not mutually exclusive,” Rafe snapped back, then shook his head. He leaned forward and started working on the Rubik’s cube again. “Whatever. I’m over it. Not really, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” His eyes darted up to the clock on his wall. “You’ve got a Zoom call with the West Coast in ten minutes, anyways.”

Ward checked his watch and jumped up when he realized his son was correct.

***

“How did you even manage to get into my computer?!” Rafe shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up.

“Your password was literally your last name and birth year, doll,” she explained, far too casual for someone who hadn’t just turned his entire desktop set-up to various shades of pink and purple. He didn’t fail to notice how she was picking up on his mannerisms these last few weeks. “And the password hint was ‘name and year’. Have you ever taken a computer safety class in your life?”

“Stop talking to me like I deserve to have you snooping around my stuff! Change it back!”

“Absolutely not. How could you work with it before? It was so dull and… default settings.”

Rafe scrubbed his face with his hands, realizing it didn't relax him at all. “I am genuinely so tired of your presence,” he admitted, waving a hand and trying not to clench it in a fist when she giggled at him. “I’m serious! You constantly get in the way. I don’t even know why I put up with you.”

“Because my say is the last stop in this agreement, and you’re in charge of keeping me happy.”

He grimaced at the reminder. “Right. You’re the gleaming epitome of nepotism. I get it.”

She all but gasped. “Are you joking? And just what does that make you?”

“Hey, I actually work here. I’ve put in effort to get where I am.”

She barked out a laugh. “Yeah. And I’m sure daddy had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m on the Board of Directors here!”

“Which your father also assembled!” she shouted, then shook her head with a smile. “Actually, y’know what? I get it now. You hate me because I’m you.”

He spat at the assumption. “We are completely different.”

“No, we’re not. We’re both spoiled nepotism babies who overvalue our importance. I just don’t give enough of a fuck to lie about it. Tell me, do you hate seeing yourself when you look at me? Is that it?”

Rafe exhaled heavily through his nose, trying to refrain from storming out and knocking over a vase on his way out. “Is there any particular reason you’re always such a pain to me and an angel around everyone else?”

Y/N raised herself up on her tiptoes to (unsuccessfully) get closer to his height. “Because I like making mean guys suffer. And because you’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“And you’re just cute enough to get my shit done for me.”

Yeah, that was fucking dumb to say. Her jaw dropped the moment the words regretfully tumbled off his tongue and not even slapping his hand over his mouth could save him.

“Wait, that’s what you’ve been doing? You were using me to get your fucking work done?”

“Y/N, no, I–”

“And just when I thought we were kind of getting along for a minute. Do you think I’m just a tool for you to use?”

Kind of. His mouth hung open dumbly for too many moments, because she scoffed in disgust and pushed past him.

He called at her and tried to grab her arm, but she yanked away again. “If you follow me, I’m telling my mom what a chauvinistic louse you are.”

Rafe waited for the mischievous grin to creep on her face, but it didn’t. She was cold. He’d fucked up.

In immaculate timing, a new secretary hire knocked on the barely open door of his office. “Mr. Cameron? Miss Kerrington? The board meeting starts in four minutes,” the intern informed the two, just poking his head in enough to get the words out before disappearing.

She huffed one more time, spinning around and marching out of the room. He was conflicted, since he was mandated to be at the meeting but was terrified of pissing her off. He chased her down the halls, wanting to at least be present for his own damnation.

He only caught up to her just as she joined the groups of execs, far too late for him to attempt to stop her again. He held his breath as he watched her take her seat next to her mother. His face was hot, waiting for her to spill the beans and get his ass in immense trouble.

She… didn’t, though. She just sat down, looked at her phone under the desk, and shifted in the chair to get comfortable.

“Rafe? You alright?” he heard, and he looked down to see his dad waving him towards the table. “Let’s get this started.”

***

“And to recap, these are the outsourcing companies we plan to use. Contracts are already underway…” Mr. Henthorn droned. Or… Hawthorn. Who gives a crap.

“Why isn’t Upwards Lumber on this list anymore?” Josephine asked. “I thought we agreed on them in our earlier phases.”

Ward hesitated, looking around to his team before answering. “Well, last week we were informed Upwards wasn’t able to handle projects of this size anymore.”

Josephine’s eyes narrowed. “I thought they worked with the Ambetter building downtown?”

“They did. But apparently a year and a half ago, they were heavily audited and half their workers were laid off due to failed drug screenings. Upwards is really only able to handle small commercial projects until they rebuild their crew.”

Drug screens are just elitist, targeting bullshit, Rafe thought, and Ward looked over with a stern blink as though he could read his son’s mind. Probably not the time to be making any kind of statement anyways.

Josephine stiffened. “Well. Bullet dodged, I suppose. Kerrington doesn’t tolerate drug use of any kind, at any level.”

Ward agreed with her imperative demand, but Rafe had to hide a smirk behind his fist. It was one thing for Y/N to obnoxiously hit her JUUL in his office, but if mommy saw the dab cart that sometimes stuck out of her bag, it’d be a little harder to explain.

He looked up to Y/N. Sure, she was fuming and likely going to snitch on him any minute now, but she still had a sense of humor, so he expected to share at least a moment of amused, knowing eye contact. To his surprise, though, she was completely slumped down in the chair. Her gaze was down on the table and she picked at her fingernails, hiding from everyone else in the room. Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked over to Josephine, who was shooting her daughter a fiery glare.

The daughter who was a bratty, uncontrollable mess. The one who had pretty condemnatory dirt on Rafe and, knowing her character, was being oddly silent about it. The one who’d been dropped off for him to essentially babysit for the last few excruciating weeks.

Babysit.

The pieces assembled themselves in his brain so quickly he nearly got vertigo in the swivel chair. That’s why he’s had to fucking watch her this whole time– because she needed watching. No wonder she didn’t snitch on Rafe for whoring her out for paperwork. She was never there for him to entertain and keep happy; he just had to make sure she wasn’t sneaking off to do drugs. And really, he hadn’t done a great job at it.

He didn’t bother beating himself up, since his directions were incredibly unclear and he’d been expecting to watch a fourth grader to begin with. Regardless, the tension in the room was palpable and the respective girl’s face had already turned a burning pink.

The moment the meeting was over, Y/N did the least annoying thing she’d done since the first day she stepped into the building. She stood up, stormed out of the meeting room, and disappeared for the rest of the day.

***

Showing up to the office in the dark had a much different energy than during the daytime. The area was quite nice, so it wasn’t like she felt particularly unsafe going in, but without the doorman greeting her and pulling open the massive front door, something felt off.

Although, it was nice that no one was there to watch her vomit in the receptionist’s trash can. Helena would be pissed come Monday morning, but Y/N was currently more concerned with how much better she felt after getting that out of her system.

Muscle memory is the only thing that got her in the elevator and pushing the right button. When she reached the desired floor, a wave of his aftershave and cigarette smoke hit her nose. She floated on the scent, lost in the way it wrapped around her, until it carried her right into the office of the man she was looking for.

Of course, she didn’t barge in. Rafe didn’t notice her arrival right away so she remained in the shadows to watch him work. It was outlandish, how attractive he was—he was focused hard on some stack of papers with one hand scrubbing at his temple and the other occasionally taking the cigarette that rested between his lips and ashing it. The smoke escaped his mouth in aggravated sighs, curling around his head before disappearing into the room. He’d cracked open a window in some attempt to hide the smell, but it only breezed its way into the hall. This close, it wasn’t even nauseating, but more like a cologne.

From her spot, she could see that he’d unbuttoned some of his shirt to reveal his lean chest. It was strange, seeing some indicator that he was capable of relaxing. He’d had a stick up his ass since the day she met him, so imagining him exhausted and popping the top few buttons on his shirt was almost… endearing.

Her balance was, as expected, not up to par. She leaned a little too far one way, and before she knew it, she stumbled right into the light as well as Rafe’s eyeline. He called her name confusedly, and when her head snapped up, she caught him stubbing out the cig as he stood.

“It’s cute,” she noted, nodding at the ashtray and trying not to trip over her own feet as she got back up. “You, putting out the cigarette. Like I don’t smoke in your office when you’re not here.”

Rafe waved his hands around and tossed the window open even further. “Lighting a cigarette is more serious than hitting your stupid Brass Knuckles pen. What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I work here,” he bit back. His gaze trailed down her body, taking in her immodest party dress and heels. “I see when you go out, you wear even less than you do at work. Astonishing.”

“I can wear even less, if you’d like.”

His eyes narrowed, and he ignored her flirting. She was speaking far too quickly and clearly to be just drunk. Rafe took a step forward and inspected her eyes. Sure enough, her pupils were blown wide to accompany her pink cheeks. “You didn’t only drink, did you?”

Y/N’s lips curled up gently. “Would you be mad if I didn’t?”

“Of course not, sweetheart, but…” he straightened her clothes and made sure she was okay otherwise, “were you planning on going home like this?”

She shook her head. “I was out with my friend Mona and figured I’d crash at her place. Which I was going to do, until I noticed I was near your office and decided to pay a visit.”

He sighed. “Well, I’ve got to get you home safely.”

Her eyes flew to the back of her head. “What’re you, my dad?”

Rafe bristled. “No, but mine is in the building, and so is your ball-gripping mother. We kinda need to get you the fuck out of here.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, they’re not on this floor, though. That’s why you felt comfortable doing this.” Y/N reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out a solid red Bic lighter. She brought her thumb up and spun the dial, sparking it just a little too close to their faces.

He annoyedly snatched the lighter out of her hands. “Why did you come here?”

She bounced up on the tips of her toes and pulled at the back of his neck for a kiss. It felt good, charged, but his rational brain pushed her away immediately. She pouted.

“Y/N, stop. We absolutely cannot do that.” He wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence, but a Rolodex of options cycled through his mind. Because you’re barely 18 and I’m about to be 22. Because I’m basically your babysitter. Because our parents would kill us. Because you look like you’ve taken both cocaine and molly and it seems you’ve forgotten you were quite mad at me eight hours ago. Because the charge I would catch would be astronomical. Take your pick.

“Why not? We’ve kissed before. I thought it was a good kiss. I think about it a lot. Don’t you?” She still had a firm grip on the nape of his neck, so she toyed with the hair that brushed against her fingers.

Rafe weighed his options, quickly doing the math of when she’d probably started partying to when it should wear off and she’d crash. “Of course I do,” he admitted, honestly, because there’s a chance she’d forget half of this night anyways. “But not here. Is it alright if we go to my place?”

She smiled, letting her hand fall around his shoulder and down his chest. “You don’t still live with daddy, huh?”

He let out a soft laugh, reaching behind himself to grab his wallet and keys. “Nope. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

***

By Rafe’s estimation, she only had about five more minutes of hyperactivity before she crashes and the alcohol takes over her system. She’ll lose interest in trying to get in his pants, and want nothing more than a warm bed, which Rafe conveniently had to spare. His apartment was seven minutes away, so the timing should work out perfectly.

But that didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.

She was relentless. Playing with his tie in the office elevator, winking at him when he opened the car door for her, reaching to rub his thigh while he pulled out of the garage onto the streets. He couldn’t very well stop her without revealing his plans to dump her off and go right back to work, but holy fuck she was making it really hard to focus on driving.

Getting her inside his apartment was easy enough, like she was trying to remain casual in public. As soon as they were inside, all bets were off and she was back to being the horny brat she was in the car.

He got her in one of the guest rooms, and she seemed oblivious to his attempts to get her asleep. Y/N tried pawing at his clothes, but he stopped her, taking her wrists with a tight grip. “Ah-ah. Listen to me,” he ordered, and she obeyed with an impatient sulk. “I have some questions. Can you answer me, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded impatiently, and he smiled when she held a long blink. A good sign.

Rafe guided her backwards, switching her wrists into only one of his hands. “Which of your friends does your mom like the best?”

She froze. “I– what?”

His now-free hand came up to stroke her cheek, gently moving back to card through her hair. “Just answer me, pretty girl.”

“Her name is Samantha.”

Rafe nodded, pushing once more until the back of her knees hit the bed. “Good girl. Does she live in town?”

Y/N nodded, eyes big and innocent. “Yeah, uh, she does.”

He finally led her down until she sat on the mattress, and she took the initiative to climb in herself. He carefully joined her, not lying down with her but remaining close to keep her on the line. “Have you seen her in the last month?”

“Yes… why are you aski–?”

He shushed her, having her get comfortable and continuing to pet her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to help you.”

Fortunately, she was already shutting her eyes and wiggling down further into the bed. He placed a kiss on her forehead and brought the throw blanket from the foot of the bed to her body. It probably wasn’t comfortable to sleep in that dress, but it did not feel right to undress her in this state.

And now, it was back to the office.

***

The elevator stopped at the third floor, which confused Rafe, since most everyone on that level should be home. His back stiffened when the doors opened to reveal Josephine Kerrington. She looked exactly the same as she did during the day, not a pin out of place. It almost amazed Rafe, how kempt she looked even this late at night.

“Oh, hello, Rafe,” she greeted, a warm yet hollow smile on her lips. “You’re here quite late.”

He hummed, watching the doors shut and ignoring the air between them warming up. “As are you.”

“Well, your father is a busy man. He loses track of time so often you’d think he doesn’t know what it is. I had to use a bathroom on another floor or he’d try to pitch ideas while I pissed.”

His eyes widened, and he didn’t try hiding the chuckle. Damn, Y/N’s mom was pretty funny. “Yeah, working with Y/N has been the least intense job I’ve gotten from him since I was fifteen.”

She looked at him. “How is she doing, by the way?”

Rafe inhaled, thinking back to the last couple of weeks, and to the last hour and a half he’s had. “Y/N… is a delight. She’s fun to be around, but sometimes distracting because of her charm.” Okay, okay, dial it back. “Fortunately, she’s out of my hair for the night so I can get some work done. Said she was at a friend’s house, a… Sarah? Savannah? Samanth–?”

“Samantha?” Josephine asked, turning back with a pleasant nod. “Good to hear. She’s got some terrible influences, like that friend Mina.” Damn, can’t even get the name right, Rafe thought. “You’re a lovely young man, and I hope you’re rubbing off on her.”

He winced at the innuendo, but smiled politely. “Thank you Mrs. Kerrington.”

When the doors shut, he all but clicked his heels together in glee. “Rafe Cameron, CEO. Good ring to it.” The elevator beeped in agreement.

***

Y/N wasn’t in much after that. Josephine made semi-regular appearances, but the deal seemed to be coming to a close and there was little reason for them to be around anymore. He would rather rake hot coals over his body than admit this, but he really missed the chaotic energy she brought. Things almost felt dull without needing to chase her around the building making sure she behaved.

And, y’know, without his unpaid intern.

It was Ward’s idea to have a celebratory closing banquet in the office building, but Rafe was almost certain that it was Y/N’s idea to make it casino night-themed.

Some poor team of interns had been tasked with turning the office into a Vegas-adjacent venue and knocked their job out of the park. Employees were given chips and sent out among the poker, craps, and roulette tables stationed with stiff-standing dealers clad in maroon bow ties. Cocktail waitresses went around taking drink orders and accepting chips as a tip (playing along pointlessly, as the chips were clearly from a children’s game).

He heard her before he saw her– a fake laugh laced with discomfort only he could detect in her voice. His head whipped over to see Y/N, clad in a ridiculously fitted red dress, clutching her clear plastic cup tight enough to force the color out of her knuckles while she spoke with her mother and others.

He grabbed his drink and abandoned the Texas Hold ‘Em table to pull her into the shadows. Josephine was so wrapped in her conversation he didn’t even need to request he borrow her daughter– no wonder she was so out of control.

If she didn’t want to be alone with him, she didn’t make a point of it. She was quiet in the elevator as he observed her and sipped his drink, leaning against the railing in the car, nervously bouncing her toe in her heel. When they arrived at the floor, she skipped out in front of him and beat him to the unlocked door.

Rafe drained the rest of his vodka soda and tossed the cup into his trash, pushing his hands into his coat pockets. “You lied to me,” he started, and she lifted her shoulders. “About why you were here.”

She didn’t waste a moment denying this. “And? You would, too.”

“No, I would not!”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow. “If you were in my shoes, you’d run right to your caregiver and tell him how your mother won’t allow you to be alone for literally five minutes? That she’d requested a watchful eye on you? Or would you find a way to get them to tolerate your every whim without pushback? Frankly, the idea kinda handed itself to me when you were a misogynistic dick to me the first time we met. That was just dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck, huh?” he asked, stepping towards her. “What would you call having a coked-out teenager stumble into your office and beg you to fuck her? Is that just luck?”

She didn’t respond. He could see in her eyes she was trying not to look away, to show any apprehension, but he’d spent just too much time around her to not notice.

“Had anything to drink tonight?” he asked, taking one more step towards her until they were less than a foot apart.

Her attitude was back in a flash. “With my mom around? Yeah, a Coke Zero.”

He smiled even though he’d just been snapped at. “Good. You don’t need to be using that kind of stuff anyways.”

“Okay, Father Holy,” she rolled her eyes, and he had just about had enough of her shit.

Rafe grabbed her shoulders and pinned her between his body and the wall forcing a gasp from her. “I try to help you, over and over,” he sighed, almost disheartened. “And you’re still a little brat.”

His hands were all over her and she whined, arching into his touch and trying to get a feel of her own. He held her wrists tight and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Try behaving for once in your life and maybe you can touch me.”

Her hands fell down to her sides without fighting, and he ran his hands along her nearly-bare chest. His fingertips slipped under the straps and hem of the fabric as he savored the feeling of her skin under his palms, and he watched as goosebumps erupted over her collarbones. “You want this?” he checked, another chance for her to back out before he began to ruin her.

She nodded fervently, but when he just raised an eyebrow, pleading affirmations spilled out of her lips like a stream.

With the green light, Rafe tugged down the top part of her dress until her breasts were exposed in the cool office air. He played with her tits, switching between sucking on one nipple and using his fingers to toy with the other.

This wasn’t enough for either of them, so his attention and desperate hands went downwards. He got sick of trying to pull down the panties without undressing her fully, and ripped them right off her legs. He stuffed the torn fabric into his coat pocket and she gaped. “You owe me a new pair,” she breathed, moving her legs apart for him anyways.

“If only I could afford it,” he muttered, bringing his fingers to her now-exposed clit. “Do you know why I put up with your shit?”

“‘Cause I’m cute?” she smiled, but it quickly dissolved when his movements sped up.

“Oh, yeah. But also, I got a little promotion this morning,” Rafe said, leaving a fat wet kiss anywhere his lips could reach on the exposed skin of her collarbone. “You inadvertently made me CEO. Everything in this building is mine.”

Rafe used his legs to push hers even further apart, open her up for him even more.

“And in this moment,” he smacked her clit, and she cried out. “That includes you.”

He expected a snarky comment at this point, but he seemed to subdue her enough to continue rambling.

“I’ve dreamed of how I’d handle your ass for weeks,” Rafe admitted. “I think the only solution is to keep you under my desk with my cock down your throat. Put that smart mouth to some good for once, mm?”

She whined, pushing back against him for more friction.

“Fuck, you like that?” he asked incredulously. “It’s one thing for you to let me tame you, but you’re taking enjoyment in this? Kinda makin’ it hard for me. Never would’ve guessed you like being used like a doll so badly.”

“You’re mean,” she pouted, actually pouted at him and he grinned wolfishly.

Rafe shook his head. “No, baby, being mean would be binding your hands together with my tie and forcing you to cum until you cry.” She had no counter to that.

The fingers on his other hand pushed into her mouth, past her teeth, and she involuntarily sucked. “Good girl,” he cooed, not letting up on the strokes to her clit. “That mouth has done nothing but cause me trouble the last few weeks. Show me what good it can do, hmm?”

She nodded softly, obediently, and flicked her tongue over the digits, allowing him to pet at the inside of her cheek. She whimpered when he dipped his other fingers into her cunt, bringing them right back to her clit to keep her on the edge.

He thrusted against her thigh and gave her another little slap right where she was most sensitive. Rafe toyed with her swollen, glistening clit until she was breathing heavily and her legs were losing their stability. Had he not pinned her body tight against the wall, she’d collapse into a shaky pile of pleasure. He noticed her eyes rolling back into her head and pulled his fingers away, watching her gasp and whine at the loss of contact.

“What?”

“Need more,” she sniffled.

Rafe shook his head, almost chastising. “I know what you need.”

He was going to return to what he was doing, he wasn’t that mean. But he must’ve had her closer to orgasm than he’d anticipated because she got shameless.

“Please, please, Rafe, oh my God,” she whined, squirming under him. Her hips bucked up to try and get traction against his hands but he pulled away just in time. “Touch me again, please, I’ll do anything. I need it, please.”

His eyebrows had never been higher. He pushed his tongue along his bottom teeth amusedly. “Sweetheart, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg,” he pointed out, voice light and adoring. “But since you did anyways, I’ll help my girl out.”

She preened again, this time allowed to make contact with him. He placed a hand on her hip and pulled his cock out, already flushed and leaking and really fucking hard. Rafe dragged the precum on the tip along the entire head before bringing it to her cunt, dragging them together slowly. She cried out again at the new contact.

“Doesn’t this feel good, pretty girl?” he asked, angling just right to apply pressure on her clit. Judging by the full-body shudder he got out of her, the answer was yes.

“I want– oh fuck– more, please,” she said. He laughed a little. She knows what she likes.

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do, baby.”

“I want your cock inside me,” she begged, blinking up at him with long, fluttering lashes. “Wanna feel you stretch me open. Don’t you wanna use my cunt however you like? That’s all I want.”

Good fuck, who could resist that? He buried himself to the hilt, sending his brain to a skittering halt and hers into a frenzy. She grabbed at his back, whimpering with every inch, every drag that he stretched her open. He didn’t even register that he was getting scratched by the same nails she’d obnoxiously painted in his office just a couple weeks ago.

“Oh, wow,” he finally groaned, withdrawing and thrusting back in, letting his brain adjust to the feeling of holyfuckI’minsideherwereallyshouldn’tdothis. “I could fuck you forever. You sure you don’t want an administrative job around here?”

Her fingers made their way back up to his shoulder, head thumping against the wall. “Bite me.”

“If you insist.” He leaned in and gently sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, kissing the skin right after. He led all the way up to her ear until she was shivering and his strokes didn’t miss a beat.

Y/N’s cunt clenched around him, and he saw white. “Goddamn, sweetheart, if we’d been doing this sooner, I would’ve let you do whatever the hell you want,” Rafe groaned, moving her hair out of her face.

She can’t let anything nice stay nice, though. “Slut,” she teased, smirk disappearing with a deep stroke.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m the slut?” he asked, pulling out and forcing a whine from her.

He moved her over to his desk, shoving her over the edge and pinning her there. Rafe pushed her head against the solid wood by the nape of her neck. “I’ve wanted to bend you over like this since I laid eyes on you,” he muttered, removing his hand and sliding it down her back.

She turned back, batting her lashes at him as he lined up his ruddy tip at her core. “Mm, you should’ve. So forbidden, would’ve been so hot.”

Rafe didn’t answer, just pushed his cock into her and a soft cry escaped from her lips. She tried to bite down on them but he laughed and sank all the way in until his hips were flush with hers. “We’re over three floors away from the rest of the office. Be as loud as you want, princess.”

And she did. Honestly, it wasn’t the best advice, because hearing her cries and whimpers for his cock further in her was only making him lose his rhythm and chance of lasting more than five minutes. He felt her reach down and play with her clit, and normally he’d reprimand her for doing this without permission, but it seemed like torture with how close she already was.

Feeling her cum around his cock was un-fucking-real. He finished shortly after, pulling out to paint her inner thigh with his own spend. He amusedly watched it drip down her skin, down the legs she could barely even stand on.

“Job’s still on the table, baby,” he reminded her, tucking himself back into his trousers. “Anything to keep you here and doing that more. Blackjack next?”

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #outer banks #obx #obx4 #obx netflix #outer banks fic #outer banks smut #outer banks netflix #posts at 9 am like a totally normal person lmfao

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tsuutarr · 11 hours ago

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Tavern Owner Orc x New Hire Reader

I got to participate in the lovely Ozzgin's Secret Santa Event!! This one is for @tranquilo-antique-apothecary!!

Content is about 1K words of him being down bad for you <3

Sekkrad has always liked the bustling atmosphere of taverns, rich with rambunctious laughter and delicious food. After every win or loss, Sekkrad and his comrades would settle down at their favorite tavern, almost as if it were their second home. Maybe that was why he decided to open a quaint tavern after retiring from his warrior duties.

Despite his retirement, Sekkrad has always kept himself in shape. Working out has been engraved into his body, but beyond that, it’s also because his patrons can get quite rowdy at times. Plus, it’s helpful to be athletic when you’re working as much as he is. That said…

He really could use some help.

So, he puts up a flyer seeking an employee. As expected, there are some pretty good candidates. What’s unexpected, however, is you. You’re just so cute that Sekkrad literally stopped thinking when he first saw you walk through the tavern’s doors. He’s not even sure how he got through interviewing you, but somehow he did. And, just his luck, you’re a great candidate – exactly what he’s looking for! A good personality, a solid resume, and a cute face… so of course he hires you.

But on second thought – maybe it wasn’t his best idea. You look too adorable in the tavern’s uniform (that uniform does not usually look that good). And he practically blanks out every time you’re around him. You just look so soft and huggable. Plus that smile? It’s a killer. Thankfully, he somehow manages to guide you through your tasks and answer questions with a blank face (that he is desperately trying to control).

As he’s mulling about how he’s supposed to act around you, he notices you struggling to reach up to get a bottle of bourbon on one of the shelves. Without a second thought, he reaches over you, pressing his muscular body against your softer one.

“Here,” he grunts, voice low, as sirens whir in his head over how good your body feels against his. It’s like you fit perfectly against him.

“Thank you!” you respond, smile bright. Oh, Gods. You’re going to kill him.

He nods. “If y’need anything else, let me know.”

With that said, he moves to the storage in the back. He almost slams his head into the bag of flour, but reigns himself in after remembering how expensive flour is nowadays. Instead, he picks up some more syrup for his cocktails, willing himself to behave.

Despite the turmoil your presence brings to him, he manages to get through the day with relative ease. Hiring you really was the right choice – you’re an excellent worker. Smart, quick on the uptake, easy on the eyes – you’re just the perfect hire.

As he closes shop, wiping a wine glass clean, he watches as you wipe down the last table, a feeling of fondness spreading through his chest at how much of a hard worker you are. As you finish up, he prepares a sweet cocktail for you, before motioning you over.

“Good job,” he says, passing the cocktail to you.

“Thank you!”

He nods, motioning for you to sit. “Wait there.”

“Yessir,” you respond, saluting before you sit down. You watch as he disappears into the kitchen in the back, the sweet taste of your cocktail spreading over your tongue pleasantly.

It only takes him a few moments to come back with a plate of warm food. He places it in front of you.

“Eat up,” he murmurs, crossing his arms. “You were a great help today.”

Your cheeks heat up, making Sekkrad want to scream – you’re just so stinking adorable.

“I’m glad!” you beam, making his lips twitch up into a smile involuntarily.

The way you eat his food also makes him feel warm and happy – it’s always a treat when someone enjoys his food.

“It was delicious!” you tell him once you’re done eating.

“Let me know what y’like to eat,” he says, looking pleased as you polish off his food. “I’ll make it for you next time.”

Eagerly, you tell him your favorite food, which he files away for later. He takes your empty dishes, which you try to protest, saying that you’ll clean up after yourself. He’s having none of it, though, and cleans up promptly as you finish off your cocktail.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers while wiping his hands off on his apron. “It’s late.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Sekkrad doesn’t want to seem pushy, not when he really doesn’t want you to hate him, but he’s more concerned for your safety than anything. “You wouldn’t be imposing,” he replies, trying to make his voice softer. “I just want t’make sure my new hire’s safe.”

“Well…” you look up at him and Sekkrad has to look behind you so that he won’t combust. “...I’d appreciate it, thank you! I’ll go get my things.”

“Yeah,” he responds, watching as you go to the back to get your things. When you reappear, he straightens his back, motioning to the door. “Ready?”

“Yessir!” you say, starting your journey back to your home.

Your walk back with him is quiet and peaceful as everyone else is asleep. That, and Sekkrad has never been much of a talker, but he’s especially nervous around you. He’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to talk to you, so he opts not to. Besides, you seem content to walk beside him quietly (and it’s just… nice to see how comfortable you look beside him). Despite his nervousness, he’s actually pretty content himself.

In fact, when you two arrive at your home, Sekkrad is almost disappointed. Still, he got you home safe and nothing was really amiss, so he can’t complain.

“Rest up,” he says, nodding at you. “I’ll see you at night.”

“I’ll be there dark and early,” you grin.

He can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Good.”

With a small laugh and a final wave, you enter your home. Sekkrad lingers until he’s fully sure you’re safe inside, before turning his heels to walk back to the tavern with light steps.

He really, really can’t wait to see you again.

#tsuuper ocs #monster boyfriend #orc oc #orc x reader #orc tavern owner #monster boy oc #Sekkrad Barai Tsuu OC #monster x reader #orc boyfriend #idk what else to tag this lol???

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alswosofavs · 2 days ago

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walking in a winter wonderland

AR23

Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: You and less go to winter wonderland

You smiled up at the taller blonde stood beside you.

"What's the grin for baby?" she smiled back at you.

"I love you Less, you know that right?" in captured by the blue orbs staring down at you. You had decided to take Less to winter wonderland this year and for the first time in what felt like forever England had an actual decent snowfall. So here you two stood staring into each other eyes outside waiting in the line to enter.

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much" She giggled and then leant down to kiss you. Even though you and the striker had been together for over a year now you still got the same butterflies in your stomach whenever her lips touched yours. You weaved your hand into hers and pulled away smiling.

"What do you want to do first?" You crossed your fingers and hoped she would steer clear from the rides. For god knows what reason the blonde seemed to love the terrifying horrific rides they had at fun fairs and popups. The god awful slingshot was her favorite and you swore on your life she would never get you on it. However, you struggle to say no to her. Your girlfriend knowing exactly which tone to use and what way to look at you to make you melt and agree to anything she said. You knew you would find your way onto that monstrosity at some point this evening but hoped to prolong the torture as long as possible.

"I was thinking we could get some marshmallows?" You finally let out a deep breath you hadn't even noticed you were holding and smiled.

"Of course, anything for my star girl" star girl was a nickname you starting using for Alessia back after the 2022 euros. You remember so clearly watching her in the final match and tearing up seeing her with her medal. From that day on the name had stuck.

"Anything?" Less smirked. Normally if the blonde smirked you'd get excited but on this occasion you knew this wasn't just an average smirk this was the look of someone who was going to get you to agree to the hellish ride before even entering Hyde park.

"Babe no." You said firmly.

"I thought you said you loved me?" she pouted. Her first tactic of the night. You knew more would come and honestly wanted to see how far you could push the striker before you doubled down.

"I do but you won't go ice skating with me!" Your one and only attempt to get what you wanted from the night ended up in an eye roll from the blonde.

"So you want me to break my leg for Christmas? Baby you know how clumsy I am!"

"I'll catch you, I'm awesome at ice skating!" you exclaimed proudly hoping the idea of her in your arms would help sway the blondes decision.

"Well I will admit I like the idea of that" she smiled, your tactics working and distracting her from the idea of the ride.

You made it to the front of the line and scanned your tickets and enter. She took your hand and pulled you over to the familiar place where you could toast marshmallows.

"I'll get them" Less smiled and quickly went to get the sticks and the marshmallows. When she returned she handed you a stick and a marshmallow. "Don't get too excited" She laughed remembering your black marshmallow from the last time you two decided to toast them. Ignoring her you stuck the marshmallow into the flamed leaving it there for a second too long until it caught fire. You pulled it out and blew on it until the fire went out and you were left with yet again another burnt marshmallow.

"Whoops" You laughed looking at the inedible thing in your hand.

"Here have mine" She smiled and pushed her stick into your face. You opened your mouth and grabbed the marshmallow off of it.

"God that tastes good thank you" You smiled and leant to kiss her, she could taste the sugar on your tongue.

You both finished up your marshmallows and thankfully you managed to make it through the rest without incinerating them.

"Where to next angel?" Less smiled at you. The blonde wrapped her hand in yours.

"Please please please can we go ice skating? Please Less I know your scared but I promise that I'm here it'll be okay I promise" You looked up to her and widened your eyes stealing her tactics hoping she would break.

"Alright fine. But you're speaking to Renee when I'm in a boot and can't play" She joked. You leant down and kissed her.

"YES THANK YOU" You shouted pulling her over to the ice skating rink.

After you two paid and you got your skates you were on the ice. Alessia clung to the railing barely moving whilst you glided next to her laughing at her.

"Come on Lessi take my hand" you laughed as you reached out your hand to try and urge her off "I promise it's better on this ice!" technically not a lie.

"I really suck at this" she sighed but took your hand nonetheless. You eased her away from the edge and for a good few seconds she stood pretty sturdy without much help needed from you. Suddenly she started wobbling so you took your arm and threaded it around her waist to keep her upright.

"You were right it is easier up here" she started to get more confident and let you let go of her waist so you could skate more freely, choosing to skate around her in little circles. You finished facing her and took her hands and started to skate backwards guiding her and speeding her pace up.

"Trust me" You smiled at her, looking over your shoulder every so often to make sure the route was clear.

"Its not that I don't but we're going very fast," she smiled.

After gaining more confidence she finally let go. As soon as she did though she went toppling to the ground.

"I knew that would happen" she said making no attempt to pull herself up instead she sat on the ice with her arms up. Reluctantly you grabbed her arm and pulled her up and helped her get steady.

“Come on stargirl lets get you onto solid ground” You laughed and led her to the end.

“Where to now stargirl?” You smiled. You knew it was time.

“Well after that horrific fail,” she winked, “can we PLEASE go on the slingshot?” She had that look on her face. The one that made you crumble in a second.

“Lesssss” you whined.

“Pretty please? I'll wash the dishes for a week” and that was it. The striker knew the one thing you hated more than that ride was doing the dishes.

“Make it two and you have a deal.” You felt quite smug

“Really babe? Fine” she kissed you gently and then you two walked over to the dreaded ride.

Finally you reach the front of the line. The feeling of regret pooled in your gut. As you sat in the chair you grabbed less’ hand hard.

“Baby I know you're scared but you're hurting me” She tried to shake away from your grasp and failed.

“ If you can force me on here you can deal with some squeezing” You said bitterly but did release just a little bit, not actually wanting to hurt the blonde.

“Take off in 3,” you felt your grip tighten again “two” lessi squeezed your hand, a small subtle movement to show she was there, “one” you inhaled sharply as the ball you two were sat in got catapulted into the air. You swore you just about passed out but you could feel the blonde next to you keeping you centred.

“ALESSIA MIA THERESA RUSSO I FUCKING HATE YOU” you screamed. The striker just giggled and squeezed your hand.

“I love you baby” You sighed knowing how much this meant to her.

Once the spins and bouncing had subsided you were finally lowered and released onto flat ground. It took a little while to gain your footing again still shaking from the ride as you clung onto the taller girls hand.

“You're so cute when you're scared angel” she laughed

“Can we head back now?” you said with a yawn tired from the long day.

“Of course” She took your hand and you two walked off to the busy tube together.

“I had the best day with you stargirl”

“I had an even better day with you love”

================================================

Hey guys!! this is my first fic I'm a bit nervous releasing it as I've not really written anything before! Enjoy

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal #alessia russo #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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aemondapologistfrfr · 11 hours ago

Text

Lip Gloss

aegon x f!betrothed!reader

Summary: Your handmaidens offer you a new product and Aegon can’t contain himself around you.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, dry humping, oral(m+f), cum play, aegon corrupting his betrothed, reader is like super innocent

Authors Note: idrc that they didn’t have lip gloss during this time so they do for this 🥰 z e r o plot like none 💞 not on my w.i.p. bc once again this was a one sitting spontaneous thing - also me posting twice in one day, let alone two days in a row, is ridiculous for me but its the holidays so why not 🤭

Word Count: 2.3k

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ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The second you stepped out of your chambers Aegon's eyes were glued to your lips. At first he had just assumed that you had just run your tongue over them but when they continued to shine as you stepped out of the Keep he was entranced. You led him to the gardens and he was thankful for your guiding hand as his full attention was on your mouth. As you talked he would nod watching the sun hit your lips at different angles.

“Are you even paying attention, Aegon?” you pout as you stop at a table under a canopied gazebo. He nods absentmindedly and pulls out your chair for you before he takes his seat.

“What is on your lips?” he leans across the table.

“What do you mean?” you scrunch your brows.

“They’re so shiny and wet.” Gods he just wants to pull you into the bushes and devour your lips.

“Oh,” you giggle. “It’s lip gloss. It’s new.” you rub your lips together spreading the gloss around.

“I know. I would remember if you’ve had that on before.” he watches you pull out a small tube.

“I don’t really know what it’s made out of but it tastes good and I like the way it looks.” you look at the tube in your hand and hand it out for Aegon.

“So you eat it?” he tilts his head, twisting the cap.

“No.” you shake your head with a smile. “It’s just something to put on your lips. They say it helps keep them soft.” he hums, opening the tube and sniffing it.

“It smells very sweet.” his eyes glance up to you in time to see your tongue slide along your bottom lip.

“It is. That’s why I keep it on me.” you told out your hand for the tube. He places it back in your palm and watches you pull out the small brush and spread more across your lips. “Do you want to try some?” you tilt your head as he continues to stare at your mouth.

“Sure.” he watches you stand up and come to stand above him. “You can come closer.” he pulls you onto his lap.

“Aegon.” you gasp looking around. “What if someone sees?” he smirks watching you flush.

“We’re alone.” he reassures as his thumbs rub circles into your waist. “Let me just have some of the gloss you’re wearing.” he smirks, pulling your lips to his.

He licks along your lips and groans at the taste. His teeth sink into your bottom lip pulling a moan from you that goes straight to his cock. He shoves his tongue into your mouth as his fingers dig into your waist. You slowly start to rock on his lap causing him to chuckle into your mouth. He loves how you get so worked up in a matter of seconds.

You continue to press yourself against him as you mold your lips to his. His hands travel down and squeeze your ass smirking at the soft whine it elicits. Your tongue follows his as he explores you, holding you closer. Your hips continuously roll against his and he starts to rock you faster.

“Someone’s eager.” he pulls back looking at your lips. “I just wanted to try some of your gloss.” he smiles when you press your lips against his again.

“I want to kiss you more.” you mumble, burying your fingers in his hair. “I like kissing you.” you start to pepper kisses across his face and delight when his cheeks flush. “Your lips are so soft and you’re so warm.” you scoot closer to him and scrunch your brows. “Do you have your own lip gloss?” you roll your hips and he groans.

“What do you mean?” he tries to still you but you start to wiggle your hips. “Gods, what are you doing?” he squeezes his eyes shut.

“This feels like my lip gloss tube.” you reach your hand between the two of you and grab at his inner thigh.

“Fuck,” he grabs your wrist.

“How come you get a bigger one?” you pout and he laughs as you shove your hand in his trousers pocket. “Hm?” you tilt your head when you find his pocket empty. You move your hips again and Aegon stands and lifts you with him.

“We need to go back to the Keep.” he looks down at your flushed cheeks.

“Why? We just got out here.” you purse your lips.

“Cause I want to keep kissing you too.” he says lowly. “Do you want me to keep kissing you, sweet girl?” he smiles when you nod quickly. “Will you let me take you back to your chambers?” he searches your eyes.

“Alone?” the word barely a whisper and he nods. “Okay.” you nod and intertwine your fingers with his.

He presses his lips to yours once more before he starts to lead you back to the Keep ignoring his cock pressing against his trousers. The second you grabbed him he almost tossed you over his shoulder and brought you to your chambers but he doesn’t want to scare you off. You’re so sweet and innocent and he likes teaching you new things. You trail after him humming softly and rubbing your thumb on his hand.

“So what flavor is your lip gloss?” you look up at him as he leads you down the hall.

“I’ll let you try it if you want.” he chuckles when you squeeze his hand.

“I do but I don’t get where you’re keeping it.” you tilt your head.

“I’ll tell you when we’re in your chambers.” you smile up at him and lean into his arm as you start down the next hall. He’s thankful your hall is empty and you’re both able to enter your chambers unseen. When he has the doors shut, you’re pulling his lips down to yours instantly.

“Where is it?” you mumble, grabbing at his thigh again.

“Fuck,” he grabs your wrist once more.

“Aegon.” you pout looking up at him. “I let you use mine.” you bring your other hand and grab his thigh again.

“Sweet girl, that’s my cock.” he groans and you gasp.

“Well where’s your lip gloss?” you tilt your head, sliding your hand around his thigh and squeezing his cock in the process. “Are you sure this isn’t lip gloss?” you look up at him with scrunched brows as you press your hand against his cock again.

“You're more than welcome to check.” he chuckles. “Fuck.” he groans as you shove your hand down his trousers. His stomach flexes as your fingers find his leaking tip.

“You do have lip gloss.” you huff pulling your hand out and showing him your fingers. “See?” you bring your fingers to your lips and he watches as you spread his come across your lips.

“Oh Gods,” he feels his control slipping.

“Oh,” you hum as your tongue darts across your lower lip. “Yours tastes a little salty. It’s not bad though.” you suck your bottom lip into your mouth.

“You’re fucking with me right?” he rasps. “There’s no fucking way you’re a maiden.” your face crumples at his words.

“I am.” you look up at him confused. “What does my maidenhead have to do with lip gloss?” he searches your face and sees that you’re serious. You start to unlace his trousers and he looks at you with wide eyes as you push them down.

“What are you-

“Oh,” you gasp as your eyes are greeted by his cock. “So you make my lip gloss?” you wrap your fingers around his cock.

“I- No, it’s my, fuck,” he stutters as your thumb swipes at his tip.

“I want to try it.” your soft words confuse him until he watches you sink to the floor. When your knees meet the ground you wrap your fingers around him once more and bring his tip to your lips. You slowly slide his tip over your lips and smile when your lips become more coated. “See?” you pull back and look up at him as you press your lips together.

“Look at you.” he shakes his head in disbelief as his fingers trail your jaw.

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly.

“Does what?” he watches your eyes flick to his cock.

“Your cock. It’s red.” you reach out and rub against his tip.

“It’s cause it really likes the way you touch it.” you look up at him with a smile.

“Really?” you wrap your fingers around him once more.

“Really.” he nods his head. “Can I show you what else to do?” you nod up at him. “This kind of lip gloss is edible.” he chuckles.

“So I can use my tongue more?” you lick your lips.

“Yes.” he responds quickly. “Sucking on it is nice. Anything you want I’ll like.” he doesn’t even have the composure to show you how to properly suck him off. He just needs you to touch his cock and badly.

“Okay.” you press your lips to his tip. Your tongue slips out of your mouth and licks at his slit and he whines. “Is that okay?” you pull back nervously.

“That was amazing.” he nods his head.

You bring your lips to the side of his cock and press softly down the shaft. Aegon watches as you reach his base and when your tongue licks a trail up to his tip he almost collapses to the ground. You eagerly lap at his tip as more of your gloss comes out and smile when it keeps leaking out. You offer him soft licks, enjoying the saltiness and his breathy pants. You decide to try and suck his tip into your mouth and hum as you start to suck.

“Oh Gods,” he watches your cheeks hollow as you suck and lick at his tip. You look up at him as your tongue licks at his tip faster the more it leaks. “I’m gunna- I’m,” your mouth is filled with his warmth and you pull back letting it shoot across your mouth and face. “Fuck your perfect,” he groans as you slide his tip along your lips as his pleasure continues to land against you. You look up at him with flushed cheeks and he swipes some of his come from your cheek and spreads it across your lips.

“Thank you.” you hum before sucking his thumb into your mouth.

“Stand up, sweet girl. Let me clean you up.” he offers you his hands and leads you to your bathing chambers to find a cloth. He wipes off your face and you offer him a content smile. “Did you know you make lip gloss too?” he chuckles when you tilt your head.

“I don’t have a cock.” you scrunch your brows.

“Your little cunny makes it.” he smiles watching your cheeks flush. “Can I see if you have any from helping me?” you nod and he leads you over to your bed. He helps you lay back on the bed and begins to lift your skirts. You clamp your thighs shut and he slowly rubs your stocking clad calves.

“Will it hurt?” you nibble your lip and look at him.

“No, it’ll feel really good. If it doesn’t I’ll stop.” he nods his head. “Can I see?” you slowly start to open your legs and he groans seeing the wet patch on your small clothes.

“Do I have any?” his eyes snap to yours at your soft words.

“I think you do.” he nods slowly. “I’m just gonna move these to the side.” you watch as he slowly peels your small clothes to the side and you whine when the cool air meets your center. “Your cunny is more wet than your lips were when you left your chambers.” you gasp at his words and bring your fingers between your thighs.

“This feels different than yours.” you squirm trailing your fingers through your wetness. Aegon watches you with his mouth agape as your thighs flutter around your hand. You bring your hand up to your lips and spread your juices against them. “Mine tastes sweeter than yours.” he groans watching you suck your fingers into your mouth.

“Can I try?” he settles between your thighs and stares up at you and you nod. His tongue laps at your center before trailing up to your bud and licks against it quickly.

“Aegon,” you whimper, shaking beneath him. He pushes your legs up to your chest as he starts to lick faster at you. Your hips jerk against his face as he continues to lap at you while small whimpers come from your mouth. “Yes,” your hands grab onto his. “I don’t know what’s- feels so, Aegon,” you whine as the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt washes through you.

“I like your lip gloss a lot.” he rubs his lips together as he lifts up to look at your heaving chest. “Can I have some more?” he smiles watching your face flush anew.

“Please, yes.” you nod quickly. He presses your legs open on the bed as he continues to lick at you while you fall apart beneath him.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

i’m speechless 😶

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers

#im down bad for aegon rn if u cant tell #i gotta have him #aegon ii #aegon the second #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon x reader smut #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd aegon #aegon smut #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x reader #x reader #x reader smut #x reader fic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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schlatt-love-bot · 2 days ago

Text

Shy Schlatt x Reader Headcanon

First time meeting edition!

To everyone else, Schlatt appears to be a large grumpy man, intimidating those around him

He didn’t necessarily help this narrative when he openly picked on his friends around other people, and generally had a brooding attitude when he was in public

This all seemed to melt away the moment he laid eyes on you, though

Smaller in statue, you would’ve fit perfectly in his side, tucked away under his arm, which kicked in his primal urge to become your protector

He noticed you during a Chuckle Week shoot, vaguely remembering how Ted mentioned that a college friend of his would be helping set up shots and other things during filming this week

He barely listened as Ted explained who you were, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, watching as you untangled some cords from Ted’s backpack

Apparently Ted called you over, as Schlatt barely noticed you talking as you introduced yourself, sticking out your hand to shake, looking up at him confused as to why you weren’t shaking his hand

“I..I take it you’re not a hand-shaking greeter?”

“O-Oh, uh…sorry toots, it’s not that I’m not a hand-shaker, I was just…lost in some, uh, thoughts. The name’s Schlatt, nice t’ meet ya.”

You giggled at the encounter and walked away, while Ted let out an exasperated sigh

“This is going to be a loooong filming week if you keep up that act, Schlatt.”

Schlatt grumbled and playfully smacked Ted, telling him to shut up among…other choice words

…ultimately, though, Ted was right. This was indeed the longest week of recording Schlatt had ever done, and it was all due to the pretty little dame behind the camera

Schlatt noticed when you would tune out of the conversation being had between him, Ted, and their guest, which is when Schlatt would become increasingly grumpier, even borderline aggressive at times

If you were listening, though? That man tried his hardest to act cool, but ultimately stumbled over his words and showed a bit too much of his softness

“Schlatt…buddy, my eyes are over here…” Connor, this episode’s guest, began to tease, causing heat to rise in Schlatt’s cheeks as he sent eye daggers in Connor’s direction

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe if you were actually talking about anything interesting, I’d be a better listener! Ever think of that?”

He heard your stifled giggle coming from behind the camera and in turn beamed with pride

At the end of the week, Schlatt grew grumpier and grumpier, knowing he would have to leave behind this pretty little thing to go back to New York, and Ted could sense it

“Yknow, if you want to leave with a good taste of LA on your tongue…(Y/N)’s totally into you, too. How? I’m not sure. I don’t know why anything with two legs and a pulse would want to go out with you, but she mentioned in passing the other day how ridiculously sexy she thought you were. Go for it, man!”

Annoyed by Ted’s implications, his ears still perked at the thought of you finding him attractive, so back into the studio he went

He caught you while you were packing away some of the set props, trying to balance yourself on the seats to collect as many Sriracha and A1 bottles you could manage before you began to lose your balance

“Woah...you gotta be more careful there, toots. Don’t want you to go hurting yourself, now. Can I…can I help you?”

The way he held you in his arms made your heart stop, and your lack of response made him think you thought he was being a creep by holding you for so long

He quickly placed you back down onto the ground, clearing his throat, before pulling at the hem of his shirt looking for the words he wanted to say

“So…I…uh, my flight outta here doesn’t leave until tomorrow night so…I was thinkin’...maybe you would wanna, I dunno, grab a bite to eat tonight?”

He refused to make eye contact with you, one hand snaking around his neck, making you giggle

“Sir…are you asking me on a date?”

“You said it, not me…”

“Well…”

“Okay fine, it’s a date. Will you?”

“Absolutely.”

"Cool, awesome. Here's my number, I'll...uh...pick you up at 5?"

"Sounds perfect, Schlatt."

He didn't want to show just how excited he was about it, (but he totally did) but he was absolutely geeked that he got a chance at a date

You might've caught him giving himself a little pat on the back as he exited the studio, not thinking you were paying any mind to him

ooooohhh!! i just love the idea of a softie schlatt!! i feel he's not portrayed as a softie or as shy very often, so i figured why not try my hand at it!! hopefully you all enjoyed!!

#schlatt #jschlatt x you #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic

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emphasisonthehomo · 2 days ago

Note

Can you do a Buck POV of Tommy telling him that Ryan thought he was straight please?

From this.

NSFW!

•

Buck loves Tommy like this. Post orgasm relaxed. Shirtless and flopped against the couch. Head tipped back and eyes closed. Almost his entire upper body is still flushed, a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. His nipples are hard, his breathing not quite settled.

Buck’s breathing hasn’t settled either, and his legs feel almost jelly-like as he stands. If Buck had his way they’d sit and cuddle for a little longer before doing anything, but Buck isn’t having his way about that because-

Well.

Tommy’s face and throat are covered in come.

Some of it’s smeared, a mess across Tommy’s cheeks and chin, from where Buck couldn’t help it and licked the taste of himself out of Tommy’s mouth.

“Hurry up, baby,” Tommy says, quirking an eyebrow up but keeping his eyes closed.

Tommy’s voice is rough from how he’d taken Buck’s cock into his throat earlier. Buck shivers.

“Yes, Sir,” Buck says, just because he knows it’ll make Tommy laugh.

It does, and the sound follows Buck as he hurries to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. When he makes it back to the living room, Tommy’s relaxed even further into the couch. He tips his face in Buck’s direction once he hears Buck get close.

“How was your day?” Tommy murmurs, reaching out blindly to grab Evan’s naked hip, “We got distracted before I could ask.”

Distracted is an understatement. There had been maybe 30 seconds between Tommy opening the front door, and the two of them fumbling at each other’s clothes and tumbling onto the couch to suck each other off.

“Good,” Buck says, gently wiping at the come on Tommy’s eyelids first, “Went for a run, did some vacuuming, all that boring stuff.”

Tommy hates vacuuming and Buck hates the dishes. It’s a fair trade. Buck carefully slides the washcloth lower to clean up the mess on Tommy’s jaw, and Tommy’s eyes blink open.

“Mmm, thanks,” Tommy says, groping along Buck’s skin before resting his hand on top of Buck’s ass.

“What about you?” Buck asks, remembering to be curious, “You ever figure out what was up with Ryan?”

Buck’s not expecting how hard Tommy starts laughing. His entire face crinkles up as he giggles helplessly.

“I did,” Tommy says after a huge inhale, shaking his head, “God babe, you’re not gonna believe it.”

“What happened?” Buck asks, bewildered before he grabs at Tommy’s chin, “Stop cackling, I’m trying to clean you off.”

“Sorry,” Tommy snickers, going still again, “Anyways uh. Ryan thought I was straight.”

Buck freezes.

“What?” Buck demands, washcloth still mashed wetly against Tommy’s face, “How?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy says, looking up at him, “I have no idea. I thought he knew, but apparently he didn’t.”

“I’m confused?” Buck says, wiping across Tommy’s mouth, “He was mad that you’re gay?”

“Not quite,” Tommy says, voice muffled until Evan pulls the washcloth away, “From what I’ve been able to figure out, he thought I was straight and then you decided to stick your tongue in my mouth. Then he thought it might be a weird prank or something.”

“Helluva prank,” Buck frowns, “Also I’m pretty sure I only stuck my tongue in your mouth for like. A second.”

“I’m instituting a ‘no tongue while on shift’ rule,” Tommy rolls his eyes and adjusts his hand on Buck’s ass to start tugging him down, “That’s good until we shower, I’m getting cold.”

Dropping the washcloth unceremoniously onto the floor, Evan goes where Tommy wants him. Namely pressed close, nude and a little sticky. Buck reaches out to grab one of the blankets and throws it over them, and settles in for the cuddles he didn’t get earlier.

“Anyway,” Tommy continues with a happy sigh, sliding his hand slowly up and down Buck’s spine, “Somehow he missed that you’re a guy, and then was upset I didn’t tell him.”

“Sounds like a him problem,” Buck says, because he can’t imagine being upset upon finding out a coworker isn’t straight, “I thought pilots were supposed to be observant.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Tommy says, voice a little defensive, “I just assumed he knew because everyone else knows. But I’m also. You know… I’m not exactly flagging at work.”

“You should,” Buck says, “That’d be a good prank. Show up with a grey hankie in your left back pocket, see who says something.”

“Absolutely not,” Tommy says, affronted, “I don’t want to know who knows what that means.”

#aron's fic #911 #bucktommy #tevan #misperception

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t-horn-n · 1 day ago

Text

— the nights the wind grows teeth

pairing: silco x hard of hearing!reader (female)

genre: a little of everything

summary: a simple introduction, briefly.

word count: 1 311

note: I have an unserious headcanon that Silco doesn’t drink anything from the Last Drop since Vander’s not the one pouring them.

anyway, prolly gonna be a series ???

You possess a capacity for calmness that so often escapes fissure folk. It’s a quality that Silco appreciates even if that sort of level-headedness is off-putting to most, to the extent that many believe you’re either a stone cold bitch or just stupid enough to live in a constant state of ignorant bliss.

Silco supposes that, temperamentally, you remind him of himself. Sevika has his passion, but she also has a tendency to think with her fists. Jinx has his intellect and intuition but she’s inclined to act out on her own. You actually can exhibit an amount of forethought. And, well, past the three of you, he can’t claim to be interested in anyone else.

“Go home, kid,” Sevika says into your good ear. “You’ve done enough for the day.”

It’s barely eleven at night and you know that she’s going to be running around for the next three hours, at least. That, and you’re actually Sevika’s senior by a year, give or take. She just likes to play big sister once in a while. You like to let her.

And you can’t say that you mind getting off a little early to sit in one of the Last Drop’s booths until you’re tired enough that you’ll be asleep on your feet by the time you trudge back to your bed. Well actually, if you’re more inclined to be honest, which you aren’t, you would admit that you’re hoping it’ll be one of those occasions where your generous benefactor will slide into the seat across from you and lean forward so that you can light his cigar. You’ve never quite understood why he likes the things considering that the fissures already have their fair share of smoke.

Sometimes he’ll talk about the week’s plans, monologuing into your good ear, or he’ll talk about Jinx. On other nights, when he knows that the ringing in your bad ear is particularly bad, he’ll let you sit in silence, watching his smoke writhe beneath the Last Drop’s grimy green light.

Everyone knows that Silco is clever, but he is also observant, and he knows that it’s the biting, frosty nights that your hearing is the worst. The uncomfortable whine is the loudest and even the sounds that you can hear become smothered and unfocused.

It’s also when that unrequited ache, bone-deep, is the most needy.

You’ve only had shimmer once. It’s been too long for you to remember how it actually tasted, whether it was bitter or sweet; whether it burned your throat or whether they injected it straight into your veins. But you can remember the way that it made you feel. You’ve never been in love, but you figure that shimmer makes one as manic as love does.

When it’s cold fog stalking the Lanes, rather than just the typical Gray, your severed ear calls out for the weightless sensation shimmer provided, but you’re sure that if you indulge, even when you feel like you won’t survive the phantom pains, you won’t be able to resist the drug the next time. Or the next. You can’t say that your life is bliss, but you know that you're much better off fighting the cold with the Last Drop’s liquor than you are addicted to shimmer.

“It’s bothering you tonight,” Silco states plainly.

Before you is a glass of some mystery, clouded liquid. All you’d asked for was something strong, hoping that it’d dull the persistent thrumming in your skull. Silco, lounging across from you, has an unlit cigar dancing between his fingers. You swear you’ve never seen him drink from his own bar.

“Yes,” you admit because you know anything else will lead to a pointless argument. “But it’s not bad tonight.”

“Hm,” he hums.

You’d only been to the Last Drop once before meeting Silco, officially that is. And, you hadn’t really been there, all things considered. You had been fifteen and had your ear pressed against one of its windows in order to hear the murmurs of whomever was inside. Before you ran with Silco, you were an information runner. It was simple and clean and tidy. You’d play the part of the fly on the wall and whisper plans for hit-and-runs and smuggling jobs into the ears of your handlers and you’d get a cut. It was simple, well, until you got caught.

Now, it’s certainly true that your old job would be more difficult considering the circumstances. The reason why Silco keeps you around, you suspect, is because you can be quiet and charming, when you want to be. Your feet are coated in enough silver for you to make your way silently around the Lanes into places where people don’t want you to be. And your center is soft and gooey enough to charm Piltees into trying shimmer. Just this once, they’ll tell you. That’s how you get them.

“A shipment is going out tomorrow and I expect that it will go better than the last one,” Silco says.

He sounds submerged. He repeats himself, slowly so that you can make out the movements of his lips in the low light, then continues, “We don’t need the Fireflies disrupting our schedule any more than they already have.”

You nod and notice how odd he looks down among the general trouble of the Lanes.

“You’ll be there tomorrow,” he says and it’s a fact.

He slides out of the booth, his cigar still unlit. “It’s cold tonight.”

“I’m warm enough,” you tell him as you down the rest of your drink.

The cobblestones beneath seep cold into the soles of your feet and the alleyways shuck their frosty breath onto your back on your way to your hole-in-the-wall apartment. It’s cold there too. And dark.

There’s not really a kitchen, just a gas cooktop beside a muddy window. A single stool sits at a counter and beyond that is a bed boxed in by three walls and an old dresser.

“Hi, Jinx.”

“Aw, how’d you know I was here?” she croons.

“I heard the sound of your breathing.”

“No you didn’t,” she laughs.

“No,” you agree. “But you left my door unlocked.”

“Oops.”

You toss your jacket at her as you flip the light on, and Jinx is there, perched on your windowsill. She swats away your oncoming jacket.

“Close the window.”

“You’re bossy. Has anyone ever told you that?” she asks, twirling her hair around her fingers.

She follows you into your bedroom and falls backward onto your bed. She’s appeared in your apartment enough times that this is all routine, practically. At least you’ve trained her to keep her boots off your bed.

“Mhm,” you reply.

Your fingers are cold and slow moving as you unlace your shoes, tug them off, and throw them on top of your dresser. You press your palm against the spot where you ear should be trying to warm it up.

“He sent you to make sure I didn’t trip up the stairs?” you ask, a little sarcastically but really, you’re somewhat flattered.

She groans and doesn’t answer you. “He’s bossy too,” she whines.

“He is.”

You fall onto the bed next to her head.

“Did you know that you’re the only one he comes down to that shitty bar for?”

“Mm?” You only caught half of her sentence.

“He just sits in that chair and frowns.”

Jinx always makes enough conversation for both of you. You wonder how often she fills in your parts herself.

It’s likely stupid of the thought to even cross your mind, but on these particularly cold nights when you are feeling particularly unlike yourself—when you are in pain and you crave what you shouldn’t have and your regrets feel the most potent—Silco feels particularly like a friend. You almost scoff. That’s a dangerous thought.

“If you’re sleeping here, you’re getting the light,” you tell Jinx.

— m. list

#x reader #silco x reader #silco #silco arcane #silco fanfiction #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction #arcane season 2

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munv · 3 days ago

Text

You’ve always loved baking. Whipping things up in the oven, the sweet pastries you’d spend your time designing, and the sweet faces that came along with it.

It was only natural that you would become a baker. And you had a just as sweet boyfriend to go along with it.

As intimidating he looked, and at some point he drove away customers, you found a way to work around it.

Zoro was a sweet boy at heart, you knew this. No matter how calloused his hands seemed from training, or how his smile would become nightmare fuel and send a poor old lady into cardiac arrest, and not to mention his blunt way of speaking.

That was just how he was.

Yet, when he stepped foot into the kitchen he was in fact, a force to be reckoned with. Not in the good way. The “I burnt water and it tastes just fine” way. Which was oddly specific but you couldn’t put anything behind him at this point.

You remember the time he first offered to help you bake pound cake, the guy told you he would watch it in the oven for you. Somehow he sliced and diced the kitchen???

“Zoro…why is our oven cut up into tiny pieces..??”

You were baffled. Really. WHY did he cut up your oven??. “It was too hot so I decided to cut it”

“USE MITTENS????”

“…oh well”

He looked like a dejected puppy that was just kicked into the curb, although he tried his best not to show it, you’ve been with hin long enough to tell. It was almost as if he didnt understand why you use mittens and dont end up cutting the oven into micro sized pieces everytime you bake.

A way to put it would be “utterly hopeless.” To say that he didnt take to that kindly would be an understatement. So in a way to prove himself in a way, he started helping out more at your bakery.

The only thing you manage to put trust in that he wouldn’t absolutely fuck up would be serving customers.

You never really liked having people work for you. Close friends came to help out every once in a while sure, but that was about it. No long term employees. To be honest, it felt better that way too. All you had to focus on was making food and ringing it up.

Although it was hard work, you knew with zoro helping out more often would prove to be beneficial.

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sultrydxrling · 3 days ago

Note

Hear me out on subby vampires;

Just begging for a taste..just a drop of the intoxication..~

Maybe they can suck it off a cut on your finger~

Hey, so, I love YOU, random citizen.

YANDERE, SUBBY, MASC VAMPIRE(AFAB OR POST OP. VAMP) /X/ ANY READER/ INCLUDES: BLOOD/ NSFW&SFW/ THEMES/YANDERE/WORSHIP KINK/

Your vampire boyfriend clings to you every chance he gets. He has to stay home when you go out, but he needs you so much that he's begged to go out at night with you instead.

When you do have to go out during the day, he waits by the door for you or anxiously cleans up the house.

One night, you came home, and he was wearing his black silk robe. He ran over to you and kissed at your neck.

"My love, may I?"

You laughed a little at his desperation, and he whined, clasping at your clothing with his long nails.

"I'm not sure. Have you been good today?"

You smile at him, intertwining your fingers in his hair. He slipped to his knees and looked up at you, sliding his hands up the backs of your legs to one of your hands.

"Yes.. please, even just a little.. it doesn't have to be from your neck.."

He always had blood easily accessible to him at home, the best of the best, you'd made sure. But nothing was as good as your blood. His beloved partner's warm, delicious blood.

He holds your hand to his lips and kisses softly from the wrist to the fingertip, running your fingers lightly over his fangs as he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

When he'd slipped to the floor, the shoulders of his robe slipped down to his arms, making the lacey, black, men's lingerie peak from beneath the silk.

"Awe, you got all dressed up for me?"

Blush tugged his cheeks into an embarrassed smile.

"Anything for you.."

You ran your thumb over one of his fangs and pressed your fi ger teasingly against the sharp end. The puddle of vampire on the floor held his mouth open for you, panting softly.

He could hear your pulse beating in his head, louder and louder.

"Alright."

You pressed and winced softly as blood trickled down your finger into his mouth, and he held your hand and wrist.

He sucked softly on your thumb and ran his tongue over the new cut. You felt his getting antsy with his teeth and gently pressed a finger to his forehead.

"Gently... remember your manners."

"Yes, my dear. I apologize.. I just missed you so much. Please, may I have more?"

#subby vampire #subby boys #vampire sub #vampire x human #vampire boyfriend #🫁🫀roomfor2 #monster love #monster bf #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster kink #monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster romance #monster lover #tw monsterfucking

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dat-town · 2 days ago

Text

wanna be yours

Characters: down bad!Taesan & female reader

Setting & genre: friends to lovers, college au

Summary: Just Taesan going through it with his crush on you.

Warnings: stage names used, alcohol consumption (beer), shooting-related words but in laser tagging context, light swearing

Words: 3.6k

Author’s note: title from the arctic monkeys’ song aka the ultimate down bad song

@restlessmaknae, the thing is i needed something lighter after all that angst and i wanted to wish you merry xmas with something light and happy because i wish you all the best for the next year as well! i am so so proud of you and i told you that this year's time apart would be a preparation for next year! you won't get rid of me this easy though. love you, always! <3

It’s pathetic, really, Taesan thinks, when he immediately perks up as the pizza place’s door opens and he hears your laughter. He makes sure to mask his expression and with conscious effort at least he manages to relax his posture, melting into the fake leather seat of the corner diner before you get to the table.

Jaehyun greets everybody at the table loudly like always, with enthusiasm and no shame that Taesan could never phantom. You follow in suit, much less conspicuous, a wave and an easy smile, sliding into the booth right next to Sungho’s girlfriend. Taesan pretends to check something on his phone but he couldn’t even recall the time read on his screen because when he looks back up, he catches Hyein whisper something into your ear and you look up, straight at him with a smile tugging on the corner of your rosy, shiny mouth. Taesan briefly wonders about the taste of your gloss and if your lips are as soft as they look. Then he blinks and snaps out of it.

Embarrassment makes him flush anyway because please god, let it not be about him, whatever shit Hyein shared. Still, he tries to play it cool and instead of looking away like a coward, like how his first instinct is, he makes a show of raising an eyebrow in question as if taunting, challenging you. Hopefully, he manages to preserve his cool image this way.

What, he mouths and you silently giggle, eyes turning into crescents.

I will tell you later, you whisper back and Taesan hopes relief doesn’t flood his features. It wasn’t about him then.

You order a banana shake with choco chip cookies, your usual, because of course Taesan knows that. He knows an embarrassing amount of your likes for someone who is ‘not interested’ as he has been trying to convince Leehan almost as long as you have known each other.

Taesan still remembers how you came into his life: how quick, with a smile, like a breeze on a scorching summer day. Jaehyun invited you to this house party at his and Sungho’s place because of course, you were one of those friends Jaehyun made along the way with his ridiculously extroverted personality. It was a small flat, too small for so many people and Taesan was starting to regret deciding on this particular gray tee because he could feel sweat dripping down his neck. He needed some fresh air, so he stepped out to the balcony but you were already there nursing your cheap beer.

“Hey,” you turned to him with a smile, bright and friendly, and he just awkwardly stood there not sure whether he should have gone back and left you alone or that would have made things worse. “Taesan, right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, still hovering by the door even though you didn’t seem bothered by his presence. He was just never really good at interacting with new people. Especially girls, more specifically pretty girls.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself as if Jaehyun didn’t make sure previously to make it known like the loud nosy friend he was.

“I know,” Taesan nodded, having no idea what else to say. You didn't seem to mind as you just tilted your head with an amused smile and a quiet hum. Then you casually fixed your plaid shirt’s collar and Taesan, following your movements, noticed the graphic tee design underneath that overruled all his introvert tendencies.

“Oh. You like Nirvana too?” He blurted out, his music geek ass crawling out of his cave.

“Yeah, I grew up listening to my father’s LPs and CDs a lot,” you nodded and it broke the dam. You two still talked about favourite bands and songs, concerts you’ve been to and ones on your bucket lists when Sungho found you at 2AM and ushered you inside.

It could have been the start of something but Taesan isn’t delusional. You got along quickly with everybody, he isn’t anything special. You are easygoing and charming, of course everybody likes you and of course, you had a boyfriend. At least in the few months of your acquaintance you had. Taesan actually realized how screwed he was when he heard about your breakup and his first thought was how you deserved better, somebody who supported you and your interests unlike your snob ex. Maybe somebody like him.

The boy suddenly feels a light kick against his shin and it snaps him out of his thoughts. He’s ready to scowl at whoever thought it was funny to do that but then he catches the mischief in your eyes and his annoyance almost immediately disappears as he shares a look with you over the table, ignoring everybody else. Oh yeah, he’s so gone. He hopes he’s subtle enough though because he would sooner dig his own grave than have his friends tease him for his crush.

Taesan might be a masochist because he can’t make himself push you away. He’s generally good at keeping people an arm-length’s away. He’s reserved enough for people to think he’s not interested and they don’t bother to get to know him better. It has never seemed to be a problem for you, ever since that night you keep finding ways to him. You exchange music recommendations, complain about professors and assignments, laugh at Jaehyun’s scaredy cat ass during haunted house night. He listens to you talk about the pressure of being a good enough daughter for your high standard parents and how falling out of love felt; and you listen to his songs.

Maybe it’s your willing vulnerability that prompted Taesan to show you his music. He’s usually beyond cagey with his compositions, he doesn’t even show them to Jaehyun and Woonhak until they are perfect or well, good enough according to his own perfectionist taste which is almost the same and those two share the studio with him! He’s snappy whenever somebody disturbs him during his producing sessions but if that somebody is you? He pulls his claws back immediately, his rough edges softening.

His heartbeat goes haywire whenever you show up in the studio and playfully pull the headphones off his head, checking the music out for yourself, nodding along to the beats. At least then he can watch you closely for your expressions, using his curiosity as an excuse why he’s staring and it’s part of the reason too, so it’s not exactly a lie. He wonders whether you like it, whether you can guess that all his lovesick lyrics recently are about you. He hopes you don’t, he hopes you do.

It’s an uneventful Tuesday night when he’s deep in thought about rhymes that don’t make sense and metaphors that feel forced and just nothing sounds right. When the door to his studio opens quietly, for once he’s almost glad for the disturbance. He turns around in time to see you sneak into the studio, holding a convenience store plastic bag above your head as if it was a humble offering, a white flag.

“I brought ice cream,” you explain with a beaming smile and Taesan is not one to say no to a free late night snack. He doesn’t answer, too starstruck by sight of you in an oversized hoodie, all soft and cuddly, which you take as a good sign and slip further inside, closing the door behind you.

“You didn’t answer my texts, so I guessed you’re here,” you muse out loud as you sit down on the extra chair next to his, offering him a plastic-wrapped popsicle, then unwrapping another one yourself.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, unplugging his phone from the charger to check on the missed texts from his friends before picking on the colourful wrapper.

“It’s okay. I know how you get when you’re in the zone,” you smile sweetly and gosh, how can you be so perfect?

Taesan’s breath hitches when you inch closer, your shoulder pressing into his arm as you take a closer look at the computer screen, at the audio software he uses even though you probably don’t understand what’s going on there.

“New song?” You ask, genuine curiosity in your bright voice, so Taesan hums and tells you that he’s stuck on the chorus. You know nothing about music but he lets you listen anyway because at this point he’s desperate for any pointers and well, he’s weak for you, so it’s not like he could say no to those sparkling eyes.

He plays the half-finished song for you once, picking on the skin around his fingernails in the meantime from the nerves, the popsicle melting in his other hand.

The too big headphones are still on you when you turn to him with the most beautiful, beaming smile ever when the audio file ends in a hundred seconds that has never felt so long.

“It’s so good! Seriously, how can you come up with lyrics like this? And that melody in the beginning? So catchy!” You exclaim, taking the mouse out of his hand, fingers brushing, just to rewind the audio to the beginning and play it again. This time you’re humming along with it, eyes half closed, fingers drumming on the desk. You look so immersed and so enthusiastic that Taesan can feel his heart ache in a way he’s not sure is healthy.

“There could be more instruments in the chorus to make it stand out more but I like it a lot,” you say when you finish your second listen and give him back both the headphone and the control over the computer before you nudge his side playfully. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Am not,” Taesan objects hurriedly, his ears already reddening. Gosh, if you knew that it’s you who’s making him sprout out all these lines about jittery nerves around a crush and wanting to watch the stars together.

It’s hard sitting still, so close that your knee brushes against his sometimes; it’s hard to concentrate on your questions when your floral scent envelops him; it’s hard not to lean closer, to close the gap and kiss the melting vanilla ice cream off your lips.

Shit, woah.

Taesan sucks in a breath and rolls his chair backwards, away from you. You look at him with furrowed brows in confusion, so cute and unaware of your effect on him that he swears you’ll be the death of him.

Summer days seem endless and Taesan makes some regrettable choices in the name of fashion. But as a proud believer of no weather being too hot for black clothes, he cannot back down.

“Aren’t you hot?” You lean closer to talk over the loud music and Taesan immediately feels warmer. If he was Jaehyun, he would make a joke out of it, asking if you found him hot with wiggled eyebrows but he’s not that shameless.

“Nah, I’m good,” instead he lies through his teeth. You shot him a look of disbelief and shrug, looking back to the stage, moving to the beat of music, jumping around, having fun.

“I’m back!” Woonhak raises the bag of drinks in the air like they were some kind of reward and honestly, Taesan has never been so relieved to get a cup of iced Americano.

“What took you so long?” He grumbles though as he tries to cool off with the cold drink.

“Yah, the line was crazy long. Next time you can go,” the younger complains and gets immediately babied by Hyein who definitely spoils him too much.

The next splash of water reaches their group and Sungho shrieks the loudest as he gets soaked while you giggle in your already see-through tee. You have a bikini underneath but still, Taesan has this urge to cover you up. He knows it’s silly, the entire purpose of this event is to get wet in the summer heat but he can’t help it, not when you sing along with some random kpop boy group on the stage. He doesn’t even know why he agreed to come, it’s really not his scene. Sure, he loves music but the water bomb festival isn’t exactly his typical concert experience.

Five minutes later he gives up and slides off his overshirt, tying it around his waist.

“You have moles here,” you point out suddenly and Taesan looks at you a little dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Moles. Here. It’s cute,” you say with an endeared smile and poke his bicep right above the birthmark which is revealed now that he’s only in his sleeveless tee.

Taesan can feel his ears burn and he wants to laugh. You did not just call his arms cute when he worked out in the gym to gain some muscle. But well, let’s look at the bright side: you seem to have meant it as a compliment and while he has never bothered with his moles, long accepting them as a part of him, now he starts to have a love-hate relationship with them because from then on you start poking his bicep just for the sake of it whenever he wears tank tops or t-shirts with shorter sleeves and it sends a flutter down his stomach every single time. He’s positively losing it.

On his birthday, the gang goes laser tagging. Unfortunately for him, you end up on a different team alongside Riwoo, Leehan and Woonhak. Honestly, with Sungho on his team, Taesan is pretty confident, the two of them tend to be the best in these kinds of games and he gets competitive anyway, so he swears he won’t go easy on you.

He even tries to shoot you in the back like a coward, so you wouldn’t get a chance to distract him but you duck at the last minute and avoid it. He starts chasing you then between the maze of neon-lit pillars but a sudden 180° turn of yours takes him by surprise and somehow it ends up with both of you on the ground with your body pressing against his. You push yourself up just enough to look down on him and lying on his back, momentarily breathless after the collision, Taesan swears he feels his soul leave his body because damn, you are beautiful. Your hair is messy, strands of it falling into your face, eyes dilated and shiny, burning with fierce passion.

He is distracted, he doesn’t even notice when you pick up your gun again, not until you shoot him in the chest, the echo of his vest’s switching off sound resonates off the walls. The hell.

“Cheater,” he mutters but with less bitterness than what he would have if it was anybody else.

“Says you,” you retort with a cheeky smile before getting ready to push yourself entirely up, ready to hunt down the rest of his group.

You don’t even make it to your feet though. Taesan pulls you down again with a grab on your wrist but this time he rolls the two of you around, so you are with your back on the floor and he’s the one hovering over you. He sneaks a hand under your head, protecting you from the impact as you look up at him with widened eyes. He feels breathless again and hopes he can blame it on the game.

“What on Earth are you guys doing?” Sungho’s sharp voice comes, seemingly oblivious to the tension around you and Taesan scrambles to his feet, offering you a hand which you take with a grin, the shadow of the previous look still present in your eyes. He doesn’t want to let go.

Later, there’s a cake and a cheesy toast from Jaehyun and you gift him an LP that he listens to over and over again.

Just before the summer ends, you all hang out together by the Han River, eating store-bought cheese tteokbokki and way too spicy ramen on the worn blankets. That’s when Taesan witnesses it: a guy asking you out just a few steps away within earshot when you are returning from your sweets errand.

It’s already been months since you broke up with your ex, so of course, you would want to move on, Taesan wouldn’t blame you nor does he blame the guy because you’re pretty and amazing, what’s not to like. But then you duck your head shyly, glance quickly towards the group that’s mostly unaware why you’re held back and for a moment your eyes meet.

Taesan quickly looks away, the loose threads of the blanket have never been so interesting.

“Ah, I’m flattered but actually, there’s someone I like.”

He hears your answer loud and clear and it breaks his brain. Do you like someone? Who and why didn’t he have no idea? Or maybe you just said that to nicely turn down the guy? Was he not your type? Wait, what kind of guys do you like? What…

He’s still thinking about it, his thoughts on overdrive, when you eventually leave, the group scattering across town after sunset, and he offers to walk you back to your place from the metro station. The air between you is heavy, not just from the humid summer air.

“Taesan?”

“Hm?” He whips his head your way, playing aloof.

“Tell me,” you prompt vaguely and he feels his heart drop. What if you know what has been plaguing his mind? What if you think he’s a weirdo?

“What?”

“You’re thinking too loud,” you explain with a shrug and a small smile playing on your lips. “What’s it about?”

Taesan doesn’t even think this time.

“You,” he blurts out without meaning to and he has half a mind to turn it into a joke, a teasing but you look so genuinely surprised that he can’t make himself.

“What about me?”

He can’t read you. Do you really not know?

“Everything.”

But mostly about how your bright personality and wide smile is like molten sunshine and that it’s unfair because he has always associated himself with the moon and there’s something tragic about being ill-fated from the beginning. About how crazy it is that you’re here asking that question as if there was any prolonged moment in your company when he was able to focus on something else that wasn’t you. About how much he would like to hold your hand and play with your more delicate fingers, pressing his lips to the pad of them, an action somehow more intimate than kissing itself.

But he doesn’t dare to even say that out loud, too afraid of messing up.

You chuckle at his nonsense answer anyways, flash him a shy smile and look away and it’s in moments like this when Taesan lets himself wonder whether you feel differently about him too. Because he’s pretty sure friends don’t look at each other the way the two of you do. Or at least they’re not supposed to.

“Who is it?” He hisses as the question that has been scratching his throat stumbles out and he forces himself to act nonchalant about it, as if your words didn’t have the power to turn his world around. You look at him questioningly and Taesan takes a deep breath, refusing to back down like a total loser, so he clarifies: “The guy you like. Do I know him?”

“Oh,” you mumble, looking down, nerves acting up, and halt your steps. Taesan suddenly wants to take it back because you don’t have to tell him something like that, he’s being nosy and uncharacteristically clingy and… “Do you really want to know?”

Yes.

No.

He doesn’t even know. Because based on your reaction, you do like someone, it wasn’t just a white lie and he doesn’t know what to do with that. But he bites the bullet because it’s better to know than to wonder, he’s already driving himself crazy as is.

“Sure,” he shrugs and he’s being so fake he cringes at himself but at least your eyes are on him again. Shiny doe eyes he knows he will write into yet another song.

“What if it’s someone you don’t like?” You quirk a brow and Taesan has to consciously unclench his fingers. His throat feels tight, the summer air suffocating him.

“You don’t need my permission.”

“Not even if he’s very close to you?” You tilt your head, pouting.

“God, please tell me it’s not Leehan. He cares more about his fish than girls,” he exclaims dramatically, because he doesn’t really think that you would like his best friend since he hasn’t seen you hang out much and he needs to break this awkwardness somehow.

You laugh at his answer, harder than necessary because it wasn’t even that funny. You look at him like he should know already and it’s ridiculous because there’s still uncertainty and tension lingering in the space.

Then you step so close that you crowd into his space, push yourself to your tippy toes and peck him on the mouth. Brief and fleeting but so sweet Taesan feels the sugar rush go to his head. He almost forgets the topic you were on as his brain short circuits.

“Me?” He finds himself asking dumbly. “Really?”

It feels unreal, even with the soft pressure of your fingers curling in his shirt, you staying so close that your breathing fans against his chin.

“Really,” you nod, eyes full of wonder and amusement. Relief.

“Fuck,” Taesan swears under his breath as he slides a hand to your nape and leans down to kiss you properly. He feels your smile against his lips and he can already tell how your friends will get to know the news and that he wasn’t the one who confessed despite his year long crush but at that moment he doesn’t mind any future teasing. Because you like him and suddenly all the silly love songs about the firework-like kisses make sense.

#boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #taesan x reader #taesan fluff #boynextdoor fluff #bnd fluff #stories

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