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hoseoksluna · 4 months

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VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

genre: smut

word count: 9.9k

summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.

pinterest board: vapor

warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(

note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3

Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb.

Still can’t.

He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air.

The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.

It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all.

And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point.

This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you.

Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.

The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels.

It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes.

Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing?

He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day.

You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream.

“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones.

The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them.

“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully.

You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows.

You.

“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention.

“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable.

If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust.

He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you.

“Your nose first, then your dick.”

It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him.

And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled.

It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power.

He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind.

And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden.

Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over.

“Spank me.”

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes.

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.”

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation.

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.”

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs.

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms.

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this.

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either.

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?”

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth.

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being.

And along with your submission come out your words.

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.”

And along with those your orgasm, too.

Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again.

Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.

You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging.

In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk.

“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.”

You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him.

And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.

“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it.

But he wants you to come like this, too.

“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.”

You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue.

A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name.

And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you.

“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.”

You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary.

Or at least he thought so.

“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.

“Is that so?”

You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin.

He might just give you a taste of it now.

It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love.

Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently.

It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out.

“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.”

The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation.

“Oh, fuck yes.”

He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.

At your ever persisting service. Eternal.

Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears.

He hears your phone ring.

His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right.

“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.”

Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you.

It doesn’t lessen his fire, though.

“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.”

His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in.

You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.”

You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers.

Your legs begin to shake.

Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?”

“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.”

Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm.

“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face.

He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back.

“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”

The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.

And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies.

And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care.

He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it.

Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist.

It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door.

His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of.

It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend.

An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him.

Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through.

Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling.

“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate.

“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.

“Do you think the water is cold?”

Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one.

Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest.

“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.”

Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you.

“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.”

A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat.

A hunger for a cigarette.

He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because.

“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.”

You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony.

And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you.

He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it.

And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem.

Something in his pants.

And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones.

His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it.

Perhaps, it truly does.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?”

You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.

A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.

“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.”

Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing.

“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.”

Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip.

Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.”

He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down.

You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly.

He’s about to find out.

Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down.

He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there.

And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water.

The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills.

You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it.

You asked for it.

He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him.

That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles.

You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top.

Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations.

“That’s for me catching you.”

Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard.

“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another.

You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck.

“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.”

You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world.

He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it.

“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”

It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave.

“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.”

He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death.

When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly.

“That’s what you get, my love.”

You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore.

Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight.

“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.”

It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about.

But he is changing his ways. For you.

You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting.

“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away.

Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this.

“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.”

You mewl. “Yes, please.”

In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume.

“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”

The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster.

Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks.

Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.”

He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.”

Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home.

And it begins to rain.

Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity.

He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back.

Not so bare anymore.

You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him.

Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure.

“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.”

He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.”

He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later.

Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached.

He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself.

You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it.

“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.”

You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.”

He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless.

“Then, touch yourself for me.”

He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal.

“You have to ride it well, then.”

You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…

Then, he leaves you to it.

Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless.

“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.”

A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back?

And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you.

“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip.

“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”

He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?”

“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.”

He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds.

That’s his very fucking undoing.

Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones.

And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow.

He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you.

“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss.

He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.”

You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore.

He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit.

Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together.

He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower.

He tells you of the demon living in his chest.

“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.”

You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you.

He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies.

And the first shower he shared with you… Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body.

And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become.

It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency.

He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo.

“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other.

Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist.

Quite literally.

He’s banging his male therapist.

The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you.

And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything.

Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again.

Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.

And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along.

He and you. A singularity.

The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart.

No third party.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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meo-eiru · 1 month

Note

what’s elias family life like? does he have friends? i’m wondering if he’s more introverted. i’m just so curious about what elias is like outside of his relationship/obsession with us!

Elias was born into a very normal family. A normal mom, a normal dad, no siblings. They are not rich but they are not poor. Both the mom and dad are average looking. His dad is a salary man and his mom is a housewife. Nothing noteworthy. Incredibly normal, incredibly boring.

Elias was weirdly beautiful from the moment he was born. His unnatural beauty as a newborn who came to this word 3 minutes ago left even the doctors stunned. Growing up that face of his pretty much gave him a free ride at everything. He was popular in elementary school, people usually preferring to play with him. The teachers would favor him for his face and getting extra snacks was easy peasy. His family didn’t really have the means and connections for making use of those looks though. They weren’t able to afford high brand clothes and private schools, they also didn’t really want him to appear in TV because they believed it was pretty unsafe. Thanks to that he stayed pretty under the radar except in his own close circle.

Elias didn’t really feel the need to try out hobbies, he was able to get most things he wanted with his face anyway. He didn’t have the desire to go after new adventures and try out activities. His parents also didn’t try pushing him into anything because they weren’t very knowledgable about this stuff and assumed he was doing fine.

During middle school is when Elias’ problems started. Right off the bat he SUCKED at making friends with other boys. They either found him too feminine looking or too boring to hang out with. He couldn’t even play football without falling the second the ball touched him. They were also jealous of how popular he was with the girls. This bothered Elias a bit but he also didn’t mind too much because he was still getting the attention he needed to live a sorta comfortable school life, with all the girls running after him and giving him gifts. Yes people kept talking behind him, but he wasn’t outright bullied or anything right?

Elias was used to getting love confessions but towards the end of middle school he was asked outright for the first time, and by the school’s most popular girl at that. Elias thought she really wasn’t as pretty as him and didn’t care much about her but people around him expected him to accept her confession. So he did. He got a girlfriend for the first time, someone he didn’t really like, and he got broken up with by that same girl he didn’t care about just a few months after starting dating. She called him boring saying he either refused to go on dates or when he did, he refused to properly engage in the activities. This confused Elias because he thought just being there and looking pretty as always would get him by.

Fast forward to high school, Elias went to a pretty normal one, he didn’t particularly care about the school’s name or location. It was normal and good enough in his opinion. Unfortunately for him around this time his lack of personality really started shining. Boys were extra cruel with their name calling and there were even instances of inappropriate touching which disgusted Elias. He was too pretty to be a boy they said. But despite all that he was also probably living his most popular life. He was getting his growth spurt and his height quickly went above 175cm. His hair was pretty a shiny, he started growing it out for the first time and most girls thought it gave him a mysterious and pretty vibe. He also got his left ear pierced as an extra touch.

It became a usual occurrence for girls to ask him out publicly around this time. Elias mostly declined them though, he found them uninteresting. There was one girl who talked with him often though. Not the most popular one but she was one of the popular girls. Elias didn’t care about her that much as a person but he also didn’t find him too annoying. Everyone around him was falling in love around this time and when that girl asked him out Elias decided to accept. He didn’t show it much but Elias didn’t like looking like he was behind the “trends”.

They dated for a while and Elias thought it was at least more bearable than his last gf. It didn’t last too long as well though.

Elias was going home from the market after buying the groceries his mom wanted from him, he didn’t usually go out during that time but his mom said he really needed something for a new recipe she was trying so he had to. That’s when he saw it, purely by coincidence, by chance, he saw his girlfriend holding hands and kissing with some unknown guy in the cafe he was walking by. Elias was stunned, he didn’t care about the girl but something about that irritated him.

He confronted the girl later in school and she confessed the whole thing saying, he just wasn’t exciting like she expected. It was his fault for getting her hopes up with his appearance. Yes he was pretty, but that other guy was just much more interesting and fun than him. They were actually able to do stuff together and Elias started feeling more like a pretty toy to her.

Elias hated that, he didn’t understand why these words hurt him as much as they did and he hated it so so much. He didn’t understand how she could prefer some random average looking guy over him. Was he that boring? Was being fun that important? He didn’t understand. He never cared about that stuff so he couldn’t comprehend this.

It was the first time Elias felt self conscious.

He tried to distance himself a but through the rest of high school. His notes weren’t so good so his parents were pressuring him into studying anyway. They couldn’t afford a good uni but Elias really didn’t want to study. It wasn’t interesting.

At the end he couldn’t get into a good college. It felt weird. In his head he believed he could just… do it. Everything else came to him so easily even if he didn’t particularly want them so he thought the same would happen. But turns out having no hobbies, successes or at least good exam notes in life actually makes it pretty damn hard to get into a good uni.

He ended up going to a normal community one in a major he didn’t really care for. Fucked around for 2 years, dropped out, got scouted for modeling, his manager discovered him and started taking care of most of his jobs

And then found you💜

#asks #elias #yandere pretty boyfriend #yandere pretty boyfriend x reader #yandere x reader

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princessbrunette · 7 months

Note

how do you think kittyreader and jj met?

‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ✩ ₊˚ 🪽 ⊹ ♡

you literally meet at the store. you’re doing your grocery shopping, padding around silently, deep in thought the way you always are— until suddenly your train of thought is broken by a voice, super animated and boyish. it attracts your attention instantly and you round the aisle, finding the source as you listen to him ramble to his friend who stood nearby.

jj stands, comparing two different cans of soup in his hand. “dude, i don’t care if this one has more veggies in it— it costs like, way too much.” he doesn’t notice you, but how could he— you barely make a sound with your movements, quick and nimble. his brunette friend stood near by responds dryly, telling you he’s used to the blondes indecisiveness.

“well you need the vegetables. you’re the one who keeps complaining about stomach aches, it’s because you live off hash browns.”

“i can’t afford it, bro.” the blonde argues as you check him out. he’s completely poguey in nature, sun damaged hair stuffed under a backwards cap, a tshirt with some kind of surf brand logo on it, board shorts and sneakers. basic, but something about him enticed you.

“so pay with pennies. i know you have them, your pockets are jingling.” the brunette friend pipes up, voice muffled as there was now an entire aisle separating the two of them.

“if i pay with pennies again the checkout lady is gonna deck me in the face.” the blonde complains before finally doing a double take, having no idea where you came from. you stare up at him with wide, guiltless eyes and he blinks at you before whipping around, twisting his body to see if there was someone stood behind him. he returns his gaze to you in confusion.

“y— are you watchin’ me?” he asks, voice lilted in that kind of gentle and non judgemental way that made you melt. he seemed friendly, like he really didn’t mind. you nod, before pointing at the beaded black and white bracelet on his wrist.

“i was looking at that. i like it.” you state simply. he blinks at you for another second before whipping it off his wrist and dangling it infront of you.

“you want it? can have it if you want.” he shrugs casually and you grin, wide eyed and excited as you pluck it from his grip and pull it onto your own wrist. “got a name, kittycat? didn’t hear you come up. you’re stealthy as hell.” he turns his body to you, setting one of the cans of soup down.

you tell him your name and he approaches your space, sticking a hand out for you to shake. “well, it just so happens that’s my favourite name.” he grins, and you look down at his hand curiously as you shake it — not letting go for a few moments.

“i like your hands.” you tell him honestly, looking back up at him. he’s blinking again, as if your innocent bluntness was constantly throwing him off.

“i…like your face.” he responds, the two of you gripping eachothers hand for another few moments. like that, he’s smitten.

‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ✩ ₊˚ 🪽 ⊹ ♡

#anon #jj maybank prompt #kitty!reader

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briarberrythornedhart · 2 months

Text

Well... That’s Settled

Cw: none. Just fluff and eventual romance

It’s Saturday. A rare Saturday where you and your co-worker Eddie both aren’t working.

You knock on Eddie’s front door. Waiting a bit and hearing nothing. You knock again.

You hear “Coming. Shit! Fuck! Coming!! shit shit… Hold your gaddam horses” from Eddie— kinda muffled.

He opens the door with a scowl … and a glint catches your eye. A sewing needle in his mouth. He pulls the needle from between his teeth, it is trailing black thread. His scowl is softening into mild surprise.

“Oh it’s you??” He says

“It’s me. You…are... sewing ?? something?”

“Got a new patch for my vest at the show last weekend.” He holds up a black patch that says ‘Sloppy Seconds’ on it. “What’s up?”

“You said you were off today, and you could help me??? But your phone was busy… and probably I should have waited but it’s nearly eleven…”

“Nono, it’s cool, c’mon in.” He holds the screen door for you with his palm, fingers spread wide. “You are always welcome at Casa Munson. Didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer s’all.”

“But, Eddie Munson, you’re my only hope.” You did your best Leia Organa and Eddie grinned at you in acknowledgement of your effort.

“So you’re saying I’m a space wizard??” He fished for the compliment with typical cocky swagger.

“I’ve seen you use the Force on people with weak minds.” You wiggled your fingers in the air.

“When?? When have I ever done that?” He laughed.

You imitated Eddie’s midwestern accent that had that Munson Family brand Tennessee honey drizzled on it. “Golly, Officer, I didn’t think I was speeding. Oh - Keith, you said you didn’t want me to close on Tuesday, you personally want to walk the deposit to the bank, remember. Nah, you don’t need to roll to detect cursed objects right now after picking up that innocent looking pendant ...?”

“Well.. my magic doesn’t work on you, anyway.” He wryly pursed his lips.

It does though. It always does.

You watch him put the needle into a pin cushion that looked like a tomato and he laid his project aside.

He bends over the couch arm to do this and you can see the bit of un-inked skin above his gray boxers where his shirt rides up and his jeans ride low.

You can see the nice curve of his butt where one of the pockets is torn and his boxers show there too and you wish to hell he wanted you back.

You sigh. That would be so nice.

He stands and looks at you with his eyebrows raised in query. “What??”

So you change the subject. “Why don’t you put patches on your jeans? They are rapidly becoming more hole than fabric. Denim isn’t supposed to be... lace.”

He grins again. “That’s just air conditioning for my knees. S’very practical.”

“Including the hole on your left ass cheek - that’s for air circulation too, is it?”

His eyes widened. He runs his hand down his butt, fingers dipping into the hole. “Shiiiiit, why didn’t anyone tell me??”

“Presumably because we were all enjoying it?” You suggested playfully.

His eyes snap to yours. “Enjoying what? Me, looking like a total dork??”

“It’s called deshibile - it’s very fashionable.”

“What are you even talking about?? You're so... aggravating sometimes, I swear to gawd!” Eddie jogs down the hallway and you follow. He tries to get a good look in the mirror by his custom Warlock - she’s so pretty - but he calls her ‘Sweetheart’ - lucky tart. “ How long were these jeans ripped to hell on my ass??!! I only have two pairs - so - you saw!! You totally saw this yesterday and you didn’t even say....”

“Your boxers are keeping you decent - you just have a ripped pocket. It’s fine - You look fine. Why do you care? Keith doesn’t care about ripped pants - like - you wear shoes to work... so you are one up on Argyle with the flip flops. Now if you went commando, that might be a problem.”

He is running his hands through his hair. “I can’t afford more jeans right now... fuuuuuuck.”

“You have sewing supplies right here - You just need another patch, Eddie - from older jeans or an old t-shirt... it would barely show - until our next pay day and then we could go thrifting together? If you want?”

“Yeah.... yeah... sorry - just went to that concert and I shouldn’t have because we needed a plumber last week and money’s tight.”

You nodded. Money is always tight. The job pays you both very little. You know why you stay (to see Eddie) - but you don’t know why Eddie doesn’t get a better job.

“Hey - I’m sorry, I said you were ‘aggravating’, man, I-I didn't mean it - I mean, you do Drive Me Insane, but I guess I kinda like it... how we joke around.” Eddie leaned his forehead into the mirror - closed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, you know?? And... and I promised to help you out. But, I kinda forget what with??”

“Because I didn’t say. Because it’s a secret.”

“Oh! Covert mission, huh?” Eddie turned with - well it wasn’t elegance but it was beautiful just the same. He clapped his large hands together and rubbed them up and down with glee. “What are we up to?”

“I’m making a mix tape. For a guy I like. And I know you have the perfect set up to record on.”

“For a guy??”

“Yeah - I’m into them - dudes - in general.” you snarked. “Girls aren’t out of the question , but I do tend to go for...”

“I know-ah. I mean. You wanna use my equipment - and my music, I assume??”

“Some of it.” You nodded at Eddie. Eddie has a great music collection.

“My stuff... To court some loser...”

“He’s not a loser. He’s perfect.”

“No guy is perfect, I guarantee you.”

“He’s handsome. He’s kind and generous. He’s funny... on purpose. He has these lips...”

“Stop - I do not want to hear about his lips. Where’d you even meet him? At...”

“You know - around Hawkins...” You cut him off before he can ask ‘at work?’ and you’d have to come up with some crazy lie.

“You sure he’s single?? Maybe he’s dating half of Hawkins?? Maybe he’s gay?” Eddie is not looking at you - he’s flipping through records in a milk crate.

“Maybe he is all of those things - or he’s not into me at all - or maybe he’s not into anyone - that’s why I’m making the mix. I can tell him I like him in the j-card and in the musical subtext - if he’s not into me and can never be - we can just be friends. I’ll die a little, but that’s okay - every day we die a little more, right?”

“Morbid. But, accurate.” Eddie turned back to you. “Okay - I said I’d help you and I’ll help you - but we are making two mix tapes. One to express your interest in this guy - who probably doesn’t deserve you by the way. And one for you. Just for you. Deal?” He asks this like he’s the one convincing you of this project. Your idea - your excuse to spend time with Eddie - as much as you can finagle.

“Deal.” You go to shake on it and Eddie stops and spits in his right palm first. He checks you to see if you are grossed out. By his saliva?? No. Opposite really. “So - not a blood pact?” You kid and spit as delicately as you can into your palm - hold it out for him as brave as you can be. He grins, shakes it. You try not to think about your spit combined on your hands. Fail utterly at that.

“Okay... tell me about this Paragon of ‘Manly’ Virtue...” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You said you didn’t want to hear about his kissable lips, his pretty eyes, his nice ass...”

“God! Stop - I didn’t know you were so fucking horny!! I meant his musical tastes.”

“He’s beautiful and I am an appreciator of his physical attributes. He’s not just a piece of meat though... he’s also got a great voice... and he’s very clever...”

“And you’re what - gonna only put really horned up slutty music on this tape and probably sleep with him immediately - you Can’t!! I mean, don’t - he might have crabs or something. You gotta be more careful.”

“He’s probably not going to like me back, but if he asks me on a date I’ll be sure to ask him point blank if he has crabs, first thing.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe get to know him a bit before you offer your... body.”

“Okay - noted - Hmmm - ‘Horned up Slut Music’ What’s that filed under in your milk crates system ‘H’ or “S’?? Wait - did you just mean SKA?”

Eddie pushed into your shoulder with his, playfully, and was unusually quiet for a while. Picking up records and tapes and showing you song titles. Gently steering you away from anything that sounded like a Direct proposition for sex with the ‘mystery guy’.

Finally stopping you. “Now you’ve got 97 minutes of music, you’ve got to edit.”

“I thought we were making two mix tapes?’

“I’m making the second one. You have enough on your mind with mr. wonderful. When he breaks your heart you can listen to my mix and cry on my shoulder, and I’ll go kick his ass sideways.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” You looked down in your lap.

Eddie put two fingers under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his. “Is he...like... is he so much better than me?” His voice broke a bit on the end.

You couldn’t speak - why wouldn’t words come out??

Eddie sounded put out but his eyes weren’t mad. “Like, other than the lips and the ass... or whatever - what’s he got that I don’t?”

You kinda... launched into his lap. You absolutely kissed him with tongue right off.

Eddie scootched like a crab into his bed - pulling you with him. Kissing you back.

“Am I a close second? You could settle for me, I’m kinda okay with that, considering the kiss you just laid on me didn’t feel like second prize.” Eddie looked so sweetly befuddled. “I do not have crabs and I’m not secretly dating anyone and I’ve been into you since day one.”

“Eddie, you are the guy.”

He blinked.

“You made me a mix?” Eddie’s pretty eyes got a twinkle in them. “But the messaging is so vague - how will I know if you are really attracted to me when you didn’t use any music to indicate a deep lust for my person.”

“You’ll just have to read the j-card.” You teased back.

#my fic writing #fluffy #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bisexual!reader #stranger things #mix tapes

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lewmagoo · 4 months

Text

soul as sweet as blood red jam | rhett abbott

part of the million dollar man universe

listen to the playlist here

description: in which a silver haired cowboy finally pledges himself to his little darlin'

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, age gap (reader is in their 20s, rhett is in his mid 40s), slight miscommunication trope, references to unhealthy past relationships, food mention, innuendos, mention of birth control, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, begging, creampie, overstimulation, crying, after sex jitters

notes: this is a prequel of sorts to the original million dollar man sex scene. it entails the first time rhett and little darlin' sleep together! this is not a virginity trope but reader is a little inexperienced.

It had been six months since that fateful day that Rhett Abbott walked through the doors of your workplace and swept you off your feet.

Six months since he’d taken you away from your old life and given you a fresh start. Six months since he’d taken care of every debt and outstanding balance you owed. Six months since he’d changed your life.

You had never known such peace and security before. Instead of waking up on a rickety old mattress every morning, you woke up in a plush bed surrounded by cotton sheets and more pillows than you knew what to do with.

You didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from. The fridge was always stocked with good, whole foods. Foods you didn’t have to worry about preparing for yourself, if you didn’t want to, because Rhett would make them for you.

Because he had been living alone for so long, he had taught himself how to cook. His meals were nothing fancy, but they were hearty and healthy, complete with vegetables from his garden.

You had all the clothes you could ever want or need. Plenty of toiletries and personal products. Brand name things you never would have been able to afford before. Rhett spared no expense when it came to you. His money was hard-earned and he was content to spend it on you.

It was important to him that you felt safe and secure. Lord knew you had endured enough fear and uncertainty in your life. He would be damned if he didn’t get to provide that safety you so desperately needed. And because he was so adamant about you feeling comfortable, he kept himself at a slight distance from you.

He knew your history with men. Knew you had been ridiculed and shamed in the past by them. And he had no desire to make you feel any discomfort. While, yes, he did harbor feelings for you, and had since he met you, he hadn’t made any moves regarding those feelings. He didn’t want to overwhelm you while you were getting settled into a brand-new life.

However, you wanted him to make a move. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had strong feelings for him. How could you not? He was your knight in shining armor, and he had been nothing but good to you. Who wouldn’t fall in love with him?

You appreciated him giving you space to get acclimated, but it had been six months, and all he had done was kiss you. You knew he was attracted to you. The tension you shared was palpable, and had been since the beginning. But Rhett never took things further.

You wondered why. Was it because he still hadn’t moved on from his wife, despite their relationship having been over for well over 15 years? Was he just not ready for sex again? Or did he not want to sleep with you because he thought you were inexperienced?

You pondered these things, but you were a little scared to ask him. Not because you thought he would react in a bad way, but because you still felt so shy about it. He was so much older than you. He’d been with multiple partners. He knew what he liked.

You were by no means virginal, but you were intimidated by Rhett’s experience. And that intimidation kept you from outright asking him about sex. You weren’t quite sure how to approach the subject.

You didn’t even sleep in the same bed, for goodness sake. You had your room, and he had his. You’d never spent the night in his bed, or he in yours. He was so respectful that it almost felt over the top.

You tried to come up with a way to approach him about it. But you still carried the timidity that came with youth. Every time you thought you had worked up the nerve to bring it up, you chickened out and decided you’d ask another time.

But you were dying. It felt like it, anyway. Your hormones were all over the place, and you wanted him so badly. He always smelled so good. A subtle, sophisticated scent that was also somehow rustic.

When he went out to assist his ranch hands or carry out work around the ranch, he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of ratty Wranglers that hugged his hips just so. He looked delectable.

Around the house, he wore relaxed jeans and a t-shirt. But it was what he wore to bed that always drove you wild. Oftentimes, he’d wear sweatpants or plaid lounge pants. You knew that you shouldn’t stare. That your gaze shouldn’t go south. But, much to your own shame, you could tell that he was well-endowed.

You found yourself imagining what he might look like under those cozy-soft pants. How big he was. If you’d be able to fit it in your mouth. And every time you were struck with such lewd thoughts, you shook them off, body growing hot with embarrassment.

However, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had those thoughts about you, too. Did he imagine what you looked like naked? Did he fantasize about you? Did he touch himself to the thought of you, the way you did when you thought of him?

You were ashamed to admit the amount of times that you had found yourself with your fingers between your thighs, wishing they were his fingers. So long and thick. You knew they’d fill you just right.

Could you ever tell him that you’d touched yourself to the thought of him? Would you ever dare to speak those words? You thought you might die of embarrassment if you did.

How silly you felt. How immature and clueless. But the thing about Rhett was, he didn’t make you feel those things. No, he made you feel seen. He listened to what you had to say. He didn’t dismiss, infantilize, or patronize you. You were free to be your own person around him.

You supposed that was partly why you found him so maddeningly attractive. It wasn’t just his physical traits that attracted you to him. Of course, he was beautiful. Silvery hair, the bluest eyes you’d ever seen, striking features that could make anyone weak in the knees. But who he was as a person added to that beauty.

He was a successful rancher, but he came from humble beginnings. He’d grown up poor, and his family had always struggled to stay afloat. Now that he was much older, and well-established, he was able to invest his funds into the things that he cared about.

His father had long since passed, but his mother was still alive, and he took care of her, making sure she was able to live comfortably. He also put his finances into causes such as a local shelter that rehabilitated horses, and a charity dedicated to victims of domestic violence.

Though he appeared rough and tumble, he had a tender heart. as was revealed to you when he made the decision to get you out of the situation you were in. You had been desperately trying to save your money so that you could leave your hellish job and move elsewhere to better yourself.

But waitressing at the local diner only paid so much. In fact, your boss thought he could get away with paying you a measly sum. He took advantage of your situation and mistreated you. You felt so beaten down and burnt out that you didn’t have the energy to fight with him.

When Rhett came into your life, and offered to take you away from all of it, it seemed too good to be true. But he had quickly proved to you that he was genuine and kind-hearted. Not once had you regretted your decision to go with him.

In your heart, you knew that you would be with him for the rest of your life. You didn’t want to be with anyone else. You’d never put much stock into believing in soulmates, but Rhett had made you reconsider that belief. If soulmates were real, then he was yours.

But again, there was that shred of self-doubt festering within you. Fear that you were not enough. That you were too inexperienced. Eventually, it would all come boiling over, like a pot left too long on the stove.

It happened one night when he let his guard down. You were on the deck, stargazing together. Your head was resting upon his shoulder as he pointed out different constellations to you. He’d spent many a night under the stars, he knew them like the back of his hand.

Listening to him talk about the stars with such wonder sent a warmth blooming through your chest. He was so knowledgeable. So intelligent. Oftentimes, people didn’t give him enough credit. They expected him to be a dumb cowboy who’d come from a poor family.

But he was so much more than that. You were in awe of him.

Maybe it was brazen of you, but as you lifted your head to watch him talk, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight, its beams complimenting his silver hair, you were overcome with the strong desire to kiss him.

He smelled so good, fresh out of the shower. He was cozy and warm and inviting. If only you could trail your mouth down his jaw, if only you could suck and nip at his prominent collarbones.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” His voice startled you out of your salacious thoughts.

You caught his gaze, and you hoped he couldn’t see the heat of desire burning in your eyes. “I…” You weren’t sure how to reply.

His mouth lifted into a knowing smile. “You were starin’ at me, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

You were suddenly keenly aware of how close you were. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours. He seemed to realize this too, because his eyes flickered to your lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d kissed before, so this was nothing new. But that moment before never failed to awaken butterflies in your stomach.

“Now you really are starin’,” he murmured. He was inching closer. So were you.

“Uh-huh.”

You didn’t know who leaned in first. But before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, and you were melting against him like a popsicle left out in the summer heat.

Kissing him felt familiar and right. It felt like coming home.

He tasted faintly like the cherry tobacco he’d smoked in his pipe after dinner. Perhaps it wasn’t the healthiest habit, but it was something he’d picked up from his grandfather. And you had to admit, he looked sexy while smoking it.

Pair that with the reading glasses he wore to read the newest issue Working Ranch Weekly, and he was walking, talking wet dream. You weren’t sure why you found such simple, mundane acts sexy. But there was an ache between your legs and you knew there was only one way for it to be soothed.

Maybe tonight would finally be the night that he would fuck you. All your wishing and pining would come to an end and you would get what you’d been wanting for months.

But as you whimpered against his mouth and tried to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, he broke the impassioned kiss.

“We…we should turn in,” he breathed.

You stared at him, your heart sinking in your chest. He looked away, moving to stand. And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Why don’t you want me?” You asked. You hadn’t intended to sound so small and petulant, but your voice was wavering and you could feel your eyes welling with tears.

He froze, eyes widening, flabbergasted.

Suddenly, you felt terribly pathetic. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” You jumped up from your seat, turning to rush toward the sliding glass door that led back inside.

But he caught you, his large hand closing around your upper arm. He gently tugged you toward him, and in a low voice, he said, “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“Look at me.” He tipped your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “Y’ think I don’t want you?” His tone was incredulous. “I do want you. All this time, I’ve wanted you.”

“Then why do you always push me away when things get heated? It makes me feel like you don’t want me.” Your voice was wavering, but you fought the urge to cry. You wouldn’t cry over this.

Rhett’s face softened, and sadness filled his eyes. “Oh, little darlin’. I wasn’t… I never meant t’ make you feel like I didn’t want you. I’m so sorry.” He wanted to kick himself. How could he have been so clueless? He hadn’t stopped to think that maybe you would take his hesitancy as a sign that he didn’t want you. “I guess I just – well, I didn’t want to make ya uncomfortable, or make it seem like I was tryin’ to take advantage of you.”

Your shoulders dropped as realization washed over you. “Oh,” you dumbly spoke.

He breathed in deeply, choosing his next words. “I know that you’ve dealt with assholes in the past who had no respect for your boundaries. I never wanted t’ make you feel like they did. I’d rather cut off my own fuckin’ arm than be the reason you felt uncomfortable.”

The tears you’d been holding back began to spill forth then. How silly you felt. Here you were, thinking he didn’t want you, when in reality, he was afraid of making you feel uncomfortable. But he had never made you feel that way. From the moment you met him, he exuded safety and kindness.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break. “I never should have… oh, I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I just assumed–”

“Hey, no, don’t you apologize. It ain’t your fault. I should’ve been more up-front with you instead of just brushin’ you off. I just never wanted things to go too far, didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t say no.”

“I never would have felt like that, Rhett,” you replied with conviction. “I feel safe with you. No one’s ever made me feel protected like you do. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

He smiled softly, and by the light of the moon, you could see his eyes shimmer with emotion. Just knowing that he made you feel those things made his heart swell within his chest. It was all he’d ever wanted to be for you.

“‘m glad you feel that way,” he murmured lowly.

“I want to be with you. You’ve done so much for me and I’m so grateful. I think I…I’m in love with you.”

He dipped his head, leaning in closer. “That’s good, ‘cause I think I’m in love with you, too.” He felt like a teenager all over again, professing his feelings to his first love. It had been so long since he’d been in a relationship. He hardly knew what to do with himself.

You let your hands rest upon his chest. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, and a low hum, even as his eyes flickered to your mouth. “I guess we are.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first. But before you knew it, his mouth was on yours again, and this time, he didn’t pull away.

He kissed you deeply, lovingly, pouring all his emotions into the action. Your body felt warm all over, as if you’d just stepped into the light of the sun.

When you parted, you were both breathless, and there was a palpable electricity thrumming between you. Rhett smiled, and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled.

A steady hand came up to rest against your neck, his thumb pressing lightly into your pulse point. With his lips inches from yours again, the atmosphere shifted, and you shuddered at the words he spoke next.

“As much as I want to, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight, little darlin’. Need to keep ya waitin’ one more night. Tomorrow, I’ll take y’ to bed, and I’ll touch every inch of your pretty body. I’ll do whatever y’ want me to. But we need to do a couple things first.”

“Oh?” You kissed at the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” he breathed. Now that he’d admitted his desire for you, it was harder to practice self-control. “Gon’ take you to the store and we’ll buy some things.”

“What kind of things?” You gasped as his tongue lapped at your bottom lip.

“Things like lube,” he replied, pausing to kiss you fully again. “Need to make sure y’ ain’t gonna get hurt while I’m inside ya.”

At that, you whimpered involuntarily.

“Gotta get some condoms, too. Been a long time since I’ve done this so I’ve gotta stock up on some things.”

You shivered, though your next words were slightly timid. “What if…what if I said I didn’t want you to wear one?”

“Are y’ sure?” He asked.

He was aware that you were on birth control, and had been since before you’d known him. And now, it was even more accessible to you, because since you’d started with him, he had begun paying into your health insurance, out of the kindness of his heart. You didn’t have to pay anything out of pocket.

“I’m sure. I want…I want to feel you. All of you.” You were more than certain of this decision. You had fantasized about it many times, and now that you were finally able to choose the option, you wanted him bare when he made love to you.

“Okay,” he hummed. His eyes fluttered, lips parting as he moved to kiss you again. He lingered, lips entwined with yours for a beat longer, relishing in the feeling of you against him.

“Tomorrow,” he breathed, “I’ll give ya everythin’ you want.”

“Uh huh,” you sighed against his mouth.

“We should…we should head inside.”

“Yeah.” You continued to kiss him, and he returned the affection, his hands moving to rest against your hips. But he didn’t pull you any closer, no matter how much he wanted to.

He was afraid that if he did, he’d decide to give in and take you right there on the deck, and he didn’t want to jump in headfirst like that. When he fucked you, you would be spread out against the softness of his king size bed, where he could lavish you in the way that you deserved.

So he forced himself to pull back. “C’mon now, little darlin’.” And he guided you into the house.

As you climbed the stairs that led up to your bedroom, you were struck with the realization that it was finally happening. You had spent all these months overcome with desire for him, and tomorrow, you’d be able to fulfill those desires.

But now that you had the promise of getting what you wanted…would you be able to go through with it? Or would you grow shy and decide you weren’t ready?

You’d traded one personal dilemma for another. You could only hope that you wouldn’t let your insecurity get the better of you yet again.

That night, as you lay in bed, sleep wouldn’t come to you. You were thrumming with eagerness and apprehension, all at once. You felt so ridiculous, making such a fuss over this. It wasn’t as if you’d never had a sexual partner before. But you’d never been with one that you loved before. This felt like an entirely new ballgame.

What if you weren’t everything he was hoping for? What if you didn’t satisfy him? What if, what if, what if?

You were plagued with those thoughts as you tossed and turned. You only drifted off for a few hours before the sun shining through your window awakened you.

It was early, but you knew Rhett would already be awake, tending to the horses. You were certain that you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so you got up, wrapping your robe around yourself before you made your way downstairs.

Perhaps cooking breakfast would get your mind off of the situation at hand. So, you sauntered into the kitchen and set about preparing a wholesome breakfast spread that you knew Rhett would enjoy.

You timed it perfectly, because as soon as you finished preparing everything, Rhett came through the door. As he kicked his boots off, he breathed in, a smile reaching his face as he caught the scent of what you were making.

“Sure smells good,” he mused as he padded over on socked feet.

“Thought you’d be hungry when you came back in,” you replied as you set a cup of black coffee down at his usual spot at the table.

“You thought right. I’m starvin’.” He took his seat, immediately reaching out to bring the mug of coffee to his lips. “Thank ya, darlin’. You sure know the way to my heart.”

He was grateful for your thoughtfulness. It had been so long since he’d had a loving touch in his home. Living on his own had been a boring, lonely existence. Now that he had you, he felt as if new life had been breathed into him.

In turn, it gave you great joy to see him enjoy what you made for him. He always expressed appreciation when you cooked for him, or did anything else for that matter. Knowing he’d been alone for so long made your heart ache. Every time you thought of what his wife had done to him, you felt a pang of anger toward her.

Not only had she gone behind his back and committed the offense of cheating on him, but she had done it with his brother, of all people. You could only imagine the utter despair that Rhett had felt when it happened.

But he had moved on. After all, that was fifteen years ago. Now, he was in a much better place. Even more so now that he had you.

You truly believed that the universe had brought you together. And that was when it hit you. You had no reason to be anxious about what was going to happen later that night. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were meant to be with Rhett, and he with you. There was no cause for fear, and certainly not when it came to the man who made you feel more safe than you ever had ever felt in your life.

So the tension melted from your shoulders, and you let yourself breathe. Everything was going to be just fine.

“Sit down an’ eat,” Rhett spoke up, pulling you from your reverie. “Wanna enjoy breakfast with my girl.”

My girl. You were certain that if you could see yourself in that very moment, you would be glowing like the sun.

You sat at the table and did exactly as he said, relishing in a quiet, calm morning with your cowboy. So this was what true contentment felt like. You had been missing out on it your entire life. Now that you had it, you didn’t ever want to let it go.

After a peaceful breakfast, you moved to clear the table while Rhett slipped away to shower the barn smell off of him and finish getting ready for the day. He wanted to take you into town sooner rather than later.

While you put the dishes in the dishwasher and put all the ingredients you’d used away, your mind drifted to the trip to the drugstore you would be making, to purchase lube, of all things.

But then a thought struck you. What if he preferred lingerie? You didn’t really own any sexy undergarments. Although you had access to all sorts of frivolities thanks to Rhett, you hadn’t really spoiled yourself, outside of basic necessities or treats here and there.

And up until now, you hadn’t had an occasion to buy lingerie. But now you were so close to finally letting him see you naked, and you hadn’t stopped to consider that he might like it if you wore something sexy.

You sauntered upstairs to get ready with this thought on your mind.

You spent a little extra time getting ready that morning, hoping to entice Rhett all the more with your outfit, and your perfume. Once you were dressed and feeling a little more put together, you took a deep breath and then exited your bedroom.

You found Rhett downstairs, seated at the bench that was near the front door, putting his boots on. He was freshly showered and smelled so clean. He looked handsome in a light blue t-shirt, his gray hair still slightly damp, a stand of it curling against his temple.

He’d told you once that his father had gone gray early in life. Part of you was glad he’d inherited it from the man, because in your opinion, it made him all the more attractive.

Rhett looked up as you approached, and his mouth curled into a smile. “Y’ sure do look beautiful,” he mused, eyes twinkling.

“Thanks,” you murmured shyly, smoothing your hands over your outfit.

He stood and opened the front door before he motioned for you to step out first. “After you, little darlin’.”

Smiling, giddiness swirling in your tummy, you ducked your head and stepped outside into the warm spring morning. It was a gorgeous day. The skies were clear and brilliant blue. The hue reminded you so much of Rhett’s eyes.

You followed him to his truck, allowing him to open the door before you climbed inside. As you got settled, he quickly rounded the other side, tugging open the door and sliding into his seat with ease.

He glanced at you as he turned over the ignition. “Y’ buckled?” He asked. He always liked to make sure you were safe, in big and small things.

“Yep!” You replied, as the buckle clicked into place.

With a nod, Rhett put the truck in drive and pulled down the long driveway that lead to the main road. His ranch was situated nearly thirty minutes outside of town, so you had a little bit of a drive ahead of you. This left you plenty of time to sift through the different radio stations, trying to settle on one that was playing something worth listening to.

Once you were satisfied with the station, you settled back into your seat, your gaze shifting to look out the window at the expansive land that surrounded you. Wyoming truly was a breathtaking place. You still weren’t tired of the view, even after living here for half a year. And Rhett, who’d lived here his entire life, wasn’t tired of it, either.

But your mind quickly drifted elsewhere as you staired at the sprawling plains. “Rhett?” You softly spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“Do you, um…” you hesitated, still feeling a little shy about bringing these things up. “Do you want me to wear lingerie for you tonight?”

He glanced at you, pausing a moment before he replies. “Darlin’, I ain’t picky. Wear whatever makes ya feel good about yourself. I promise, I’ll find you beautiful no matter what you’re wearin’.”

Something about his words struck you. They took your breath away, and out of nowhere, you felt tears welling in your eyes. You tried to keep your emotions at bay, but it was futile. Rhett noticed your tears, and immediately, he pressed his boot against the brake, putting the truck in park in the middle of the deserted road.

“Hey now, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” He gently asked, turning his body toward you.

You shook your head, your eyes downcast, staring at your hands. “I don’t…I don’t understand why you’re so good to me.”

“Look at me.”

He had to reach out and coax your face toward him. When you caught his gaze, you saw what you could only describe as love in his eyes. “Because you deserve good things. Too many people in your life have failed you. I ain’t gonna be one of those people, you hear me? I’ll be damned if I don’t take care of m’girl and show you the way you’re supposed to be treated.”

It was clear that Rhett had so much love in his heart to give. The fact that he was bestowing it all upon you was a bit overwhelming. Even all these months later, you were still floored by it. But you knew that he had not always been able to give that love so freely. Much like you, many people in his life had failed him. He didn’t really have anyone left to care for.

His niece, Amy, was grown and married, and no longer needed him to look after her in the way that he had when she was younger. There was his mother, of course, but she lived on her own, and even in her old age, she was still healthy and spry, as well as stubborn, and refused to let him hire an at-home care nurse to watch over her.

His father was dead and gone, and his relationship with his brother had never been repaired. So, essentially, he was alone. Until he found you, that is.

In the beginning it was a little difficult to get used to him taking care of you.

It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t take care of yourself. He knew you were capable of doing so, but he also knew how exhausted you were from fighting just to keep your head above water. He simply wanted to help alleviate that burden.

Now, as you sat in the cab of his truck, you were overcome. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. “I love you.”

You’d never spoken those words to him before. The way you felt about each other had mostly remained unspoken until now. But as soon as the confession left your mouth, his lips curved into a smile. One that reached his eyes. “I love you too, little darlin’.”

And somehow, that was all you needed to hear to put you at ease.

He put the truck back in drive and resumed the trip into town, but this time, he let his hand rest upon your thigh as he drove.

The tension seemed to have melted, and you fell into comfortable, quiet conversation for the entire ride. Being in Rhett’s presence was a comforting thing. His demeanor was relaxed, and it put you at ease.

But all too soon, the calm car ride came to an end as he pulled into town and found a parking spot right outside of Walker’s Drug Store.

He wrenched open the driver’s door and hopped out of the truck, striding around the front to open your door for you. You slid from the leather seat with ease, feet landing on the solid concrete beneath you.

Rhett led you into the store, and you had to admit, you felt just a little awkward perusing the intimacy aisle, but the ice was quickly broken when he began reading some of the descriptions on different boxes aloud. Words and phrases that were meant to sound appealing and enticing, but ended up sounding terribly cringeworthy when spoken out loud.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” you whispered through your giggles. You felt like a pair of immature teenagers, laughing at innuendos. It did wonders to put you at ease, which was Rhett’s intended purpose in making you laugh.

When it was time to check out, you were infinitely grateful that this drugstore had a self-checkout station, because you were more than certain that the older lady at the only other open cash register would heavily judge you for what you were purchasing.

You walked out of that store together, your items in a bag, and your hand resting in the crook of Rhett’s elbow

“Y’ wanna get somethin’ for lunch?” He asked you, as he guided you to the truck.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

So he took you to Goldie’s Diner, where you enjoyed all the French fries your heart desired. You sat across the table from Rhett, and he watched you in awe as you recounted a story from your childhood. He was so in love with you, it was ridiculous.

He felt like he was back in school, pining after a girl. It was an odd feeling. He’d spend all these years alone, and now that he had you, he hardly knew what to do with himself. After the way Maria had broken his heart, he was certain that he was destined to never find love again.

But here you were, sitting in front of him, munching on fries and sipping a soda, and he’d never been more enamored with anyone in his life.

He could just kick himself for making He could just kick himself over the fact that he had made you feel like he didn’t want you. How foolish he felt, getting into his head like that.

He was determined to show you how much he truly wanted you later that night. He couldn’t wait to ravish you. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what you would look like, naked beneath him. Now that daydream was becoming a reality.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your voice pulled him out of his reverie.

He smiled shyly. “You,” he confessed.

You ducked your head, flattered. “Oh?”

He didn’t dare admit that what he’d been thinking wasn’t suitable to utter in public. Instead, he reached across the table, placing his much larger hand over your own. “Go on, finish your story. Promise I’m listenin’ now.”

So you did, and he listened with rapt attention. When it was time to leave, he left a generous tip on the table, as he always did. It gave you a flashback to one of the first times you’d met him. He had given you a one hundred dollar bill, insisting you keep the change as a tip. You had been amazed, because in your line of work, you were lucky to get a few measly dollars as a tip, let alone one hundred dollars.

It wasn’t just for show. You had seen him leave servers hefty tips several times since you’d known him. It was a testament to how kind and gracious he was.

You walked out of that diner with a smile on your face, so grateful that this man had been brought into your life. Since last night, things felt different between you. The barrier that had been there, a wall put up because of his fear of making you uncomfortable, and because of your fear that he didn’t desire you, had been torn down.

There was no hesitancy. No more walking on eggshells. You simply felt at ease. And that was exactly how you were supposed to feel with a person who truly loved you. It had taken you so long to come to that realization. The love that Rhett bestowed upon you was the love you deserved.

As he drove you back home that afternoon, you found yourself leaning over the center console, your head resting on his shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, his touch comforting and warm.

At the feeling of you relaxed against him, Rhett couldn’t quell the joy that washed over him. It felt right, having you tucked into his side. Like you were always meant to be there.

You made yourself so comfortable, in fact, that you ended up dozing off against him. Sometime later, he gently coaxed you awake. “We’re home,” he murmured as you stirred.

Home. Warmth flooded your chest at the mention of it. The place that Rhett had built with his own two hands.

Humming sleepily, you waited for him to come around and open your door for you, as he always did, before you hopped out onto the gravel driveway. The warm sun shone on your face as you followed him up to the house, and you basked in it for a moment while he unlocked the door.

As you headed inside, he kicked off his boots, setting them on the shoe rack near the door. He held the bag from the drugstore in his hand, and you glanced down at it, wondering when you’d put its contents to use.

Rhett hooked his fingers beneath your chin and lifted your head so he could catch your gaze. “Here’s what I’m thinkin’,” he murmured. “I wanna do this right. Make y’ feel special. So I’m gonna make you dinner tonight. Want ya to get yourself all gussied up, put on that pretty blue dress I got you a while back. How’s that sound?”

You nodded in agreement, though you were a little dizzy at just how close he was standing. “Sounds good.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he ducked his head forward, lips enticingly close to yours. “An’ then after dinner, I’m gonna lay you down in my bed and make love to you all night. Alright?”

You went weak in the knees, caging your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation. “A-alright.”

He smiled and tapped your nose lovingly. “Good. Now that that’s settled, ‘ve got some boring ranch paperwork to do. How ‘bout you go for a swim while I’m at it?” He suggested.

A dip in the pool sounded rather inviting. So you slipped away, allowing Rhett to head to his office to pore over financial papers while you went upstairs to put on your swimsuit. In the process, you grabbed your Bluetooth speaker, carrying it outside with you so you’d have a soundtrack to listen to while you lounged in the pool.

Rhett had worked closely with a local architect to design this house. It was an A-frame house that resembled a cabin, but it was much bigger. The front had floor-to-ceiling windows, but despite its loftiness, the house felt so cozy inside. It was all rounded edges and worn wooden finishes. Deep jewel tones made up the color scheme of the decor.

Rustic art pieces decorated the log-paneled walls. There were masculine touches, such as bearskin rugs stretched across the floor and animal heads mounted to the walls. It was so stereotypically cowboy, but at the same time, it felt like Rhett. He had many beautiful pieces in his home, but none of it felt over the top or impractical. Everything had a story behind it, a thought process for acquiring it.

Living here, you felt comfortable and safe. Walking through its halls felt like walking through home.

What a relief it was to be able to feel that way. To say that you belonged somewhere.

That thought brought a smile to your face as you sauntered out onto the back deck, toward the in-ground pool that was situated in the expansive, private backyard. You retrieved a towel from the standing wardrobe that was positioned on the deck, tossing the fabric down onto the concrete floor beside the pool. Then you set your speaker up and selected a playlist before you crouched down on the edge of the pool.

You dipped your toes in, testing the temperature before you finally decided to take the plunge. The cool water swallowed your body, and you welcomed it, sighing at the feeling. What a charmed life you led.

You stayed in the pool for hours, climbing out only to grab a raft, which you promptly climbed onto and let yourself float around until the sun began to sink low in the sky. You lost track of time, entirely engrossed in your playlist, nearly dozing off as you lay sprawled on the raft.

“You gon’ stay out here all night, missy?” Rhett’s voice startled you slightly, and you lifted your head, catching sight of him standing on the deck. He was smiling knowingly at you.

“I lost track of time!” You exclaimed, sliding off the raft and hurriedly swimming toward the ladder. Rhett remained on the desk as you climbed out of the water, his eyes on you as you bent to reach for your towel.

Your swimsuit clung to your body, and you knew that it left little to the imagination. You caught Rhett’s gaze, and you purposely lingered, deciding against drying off quite yet. Struck with a sudden surge of boldness, you walked up to him, holding your towel in one hand, swaying your hips as you moved.

You stepped up one step. Then two. He looked down at you, eyes narrowing, mouth parting. Then, you stretched your arm out, pressing your towel into his chest. “Wanna help me dry off?” You asked.

You didn’t miss the quiet, but sharp, intake of breath. Wordlessly, he took the towel, shaking it so that it would unfold completely. Then he began drying you off, patting the fabric into your glistening skin, dragging it lower and lower, until he was kneeling before you, gazing up at you in a way that made the breath vacate your lungs.

Slowly, he patted each leg dry, moving up, up, up, until he paused. Instinctively, your hand came down to tangle in his silvery locks, and he took that as permission to lean forward, pressing a loving kiss to your exposed midriff.

You stood frozen in place, watching him. And then, his tongue darted out, tasting salt and the remnants of chlorine on your skin, laving at the spot just beneath your navel. You gasped, your knees growing weak. Then he left another kiss where his tongue had just been before he pulled back.

Slowly, he stood, never breaking eye contact as he did. Then he dipped his head low, mouth just barely hovering over your own. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll end up ravagin’ you right here.”

You were embarrassed at the whine that escaped your throat.

“Now g’on, go get dressed up for me. When you’re finished, I’ll have supper ready.”

Pulling away from him felt like trying to escape a strong magnetic field, but you managed to tear yourself away, walking on unsteady legs into the house. The cool air inside made goosebumps prickle across your flesh, and you shuddered, but it wasn’t from the chill.

In a haze, you went upstairs, going through the motions as you got ready. You took a shower, used the body wash and lotion you saved for special occasions, spritzed your favorite perfume behind your ears and a little on your inner thighs in anticipation of what was to come.

As you put extra time into making sure your outfit looked impeccable, you caught the scent of dinner cooking downstairs, and you realized then just how hungry you were, after spending all that time in the sun.

But at the same time, your tummy was churning with anticipation and anxiety. Would you even be able to stomach anything, knowing that very soon, you would be in Rhett’s bed, entirely naked before him?

You tried not to psych yourself out, forcing your best foot forward as you completed your outfit. It was now or never. So you headed downstairs slowly, your hand trailing down the wooden banister, hand-carved by Rhett himself.

Then you stepped into the kitchen, and Rhett stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. His sapphire eyes softened, and he smiled, beaming as if a ray of sun had just been cast over his face. “Just look atcha. You’re beautiful, little darlin’,” he breathed.

To your embarrassment, you giggled like a schoolgirl. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, cowboy.” It was a modest way of saying he looked incredible.

He had changed into something nicer, too. His nicest pair of Wranglers hugged his hips. A navy blue pinstripe shirt was tucked into the denim, finished off with a black leather belt, a polished old rodeo buckle fastened to it. His hair was combed, but still had some wave to it. God, he looked handsome.

He had the nerve to smile shyly, and then he pointed the wooden spoon he was holding at the table. “Have a seat, I’m just puttin’ dinner on.”

You nodded, moving to take a seat at the table, pleased to find that he’d set it with his nicest dishes. When he still lived under his parents’ roof, his nightly job was to set the table for dinner. His mama had taught him a very specific way of doing it, and he still hadn’t lost his touch to this day. The place settings were neat and orderly.

He still owned the nice china that had been gifted to him and Maria when they were newly married. Even though she’d been gone for years, he hadn’t gotten rid of any of it. He wasn’t much for entertaining, but he certainly was glad that he’d kept the china, because it gave him an opportunity to impress you.

He wanted to do this right. Wanted to treat you to a good meal, wanted to romance you and make you feel special. He knew that this wasn’t just a fulfillment of sexual attraction. This was so much more than that.

He should have known from the moment he saw you in that diner all those months ago, that you’d be it for him. The one he would spend the rest of his life with.

What a strange feeling, to come to that conclusion after spending so much time alone. He remembered how broken he’d been after Maria betrayed him. It was agony. He’d pined after that girl since he was sixteen years old. And to catch her in the act, sneaking around with his own brother, had destroyed him.

It had taken so long for those wounds to heal. Now, it was simply part of his past. It had shaped him into the man that he was. And to think, if he hadn’t gone through that time, he never would have met you. He didn’t put stock into spiritual things, but if God or the universe had worked this out for him, then he was eternally grateful.

Now here he was, making you dinner, while you sat at his table, dolled up for him. Not even because he’d asked you to do so, but because you wanted to.

“Um…Rhett? I think your pot is boiling over,” your gentle warning pulled him from his thoughts.

He jolted, turning on his heel to find that the pasta he was cooking had begun to boil over. Quickly, he turned the flame down, reducing the heat. Then he glanced over his shoulder at you with a sheepish smile. “Guess I was a little distracted by the pretty gal sittin’ at my table,” he admitted.

You shook your head, but couldn’t deny that you were charmed. He certainly had a way with words.

As he finished making you dinner, pausing to pour you a glass of water, how could you not be enamored with him? Watching his strong forearms on display as he went about such a domestic task, it was enough to make you think about what it would be like for him to bend you over the kitchen table and have his way with you.

You jolted slightly at the thought, because you’d pictured it so clearly.

“Y’ alright there, little darlin’?” Rhett asked as he set a bowl of fresh, green salad down on the table.

“U-um, yes,” you peeped, shifting in your seat. When you glanced up at him, there was a knowing glint in his eyes. Oh, god.

You shook yourself out of your salacious imaginations, leaning your back against the chair as Rhett set everything out. A starch, a protein, a vegetable. It was a balanced meal, and although it was simple, you knew it would be delicious.

Sure enough, it was. Together, you thoroughly enjoyed your time at the table, talking about anything and everything. And although this was a form of foreplay, it didn’t necessarily feel like that. As always, Rhett expressed genuine interest in what you had to say.

Sometimes it was difficult to hold his gaze when you spoke. The undivided attention was almost too intense. Brilliant blue staring back at you often made you lose your train of thought and stumble over your words.

Rhett thought it was the most adorable thing, the way you’d get all bashful. It made his chest swell with pride, knowing he had that effect on you.

He wondered if you would get shy like that when he took you to bed. He couldn’t wait to see the way you reacted to his touch. Couldn’t wait to hear the pretty sounds you made for him.

Silently, you yearned for each other, thinking of what was to come soon after dinner. Rhett only fanned the flames of desire as he reached across the table and placed his big hand over yours, as he flattered you and bestowed a look of adoration upon you.

It made butterflies flutter in your belly.

The subtle touches, the pointed glances, his body language. It all made your head spin. He flirted and he teased and he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in all the world. And to him, you were.

Then, it was time. Supper was finished. Complete with dessert - apple crisp. It was delicious, but you couldn’t finish it, because you were thrumming with anticipation. And when Rhett moved to begin clearing the table, you shot up out of your seat a little too quickly, offering to help him, to distract yourself.

But he declined. “Here’s what I want y’ to do, little darlin’,” he spoke, voice low, smooth as velvet. “Go up to my bedroom. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be up soon.”

“But you made the meal, the least I can do is help clean up,” you tried to protest.

“I’ll take care of it.” Then, he leaned in close, lips barely brushing yours. “Just go up and sit nice and pretty for me. That’s all I need ya to do for me.”

“O-okay.” You cringed inwardly as your voice came out in a squeak. Your legs felt like jelly as you turned on your heel and began walking toward the steps on autopilot. Your feet carried you to the end of the hall, where Rhett’s bedroom was. With trembling hands, you turned the doorknob and opened the oak wood door.

As you stepped into the room, feet landing on plush carpet, you were met with the soft glow cast by the bedside lamps that flanked either side of the king-size bed. The bed was adorned with a handmade quilt, displaying different wildlife silhouettes, all surrounded by shades of deep green and burgundy.

The bedroom was cozy, and it was Rhett.

Tentatively, you sauntered further into the room, trailing your hand lightly over the edge of the carved wooden dresser to your right. Personal touches decorated the top of it. A wooden tray held all of his cologne. A watch stand was home to all of his wristwatches. A glass display case boasted of various belt buckles, several of which he’d scored during his riding days.

There was a stand for his pipe, hand-carved and passed down to him from his grandfather Abbott. It was where he’d gotten the not-so-nice habit of smoking tobacco. You didn’t mind, though. He smoked cherry tobacco, and to you, the scent was strangely comforting.

All of these things – the decor, the personal belongings – sent warmth spreading through your body. It was all so domestic. Being made privy to these things made you feel that much more connected to Rhett.

You took your own tour of his bedroom before you finally decided to take a seat on the bed, your body buzzing, warm to the touch. You let yourself fall back, closing your eyes as you let the softness of the quilt beneath you envelop you. The bed smelled like him. The bed that you would soon find yourself naked upon.

“Comfortable?” His voice startled you, and you gasped, sitting bolt upright. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and he told you as much. “Sorry, thought y’ heard me comin’.”

“That’s okay,” you murmured in reply.

He shut the door behind him, eyes glimmering in the low light. You watched as he stepped over to the dresser to remove his wristwatch, which he then placed directly on the watch stand you had just been looking at moments prior.

His eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parting as he gazed upon you. Your mouth went dry as he approached, and you almost felt like an innocent prey animal at the mercy of the big, bad wolf. But you knew that this wolf’s bark was worse than his bite.

He lifted his hand, knuckles lovingly stroking down your cheek before he tipped your chin up. “If y’ wanna stop at any point, if it gets to be too much and you feel the least bit uncomfortable, then just say the word, and I’ll stop. This is a safe space, alright?”

“Alright,” you breathed.

“Now I need y’ to tell me, sweet girl. How many times have you done this?”

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of your own trepidation. “I…I’ve done it a handful of times. It was never really that good,” you admitted.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “It wasn’t? Why do ya say that?” His fingers traced over your jaw, touch warm.

“The guys, um, just cared about their own pleasure. They didn’t really focus on mine.”

Then he leaned in, bending so that he was eye level with you. “Tell me, little darlin’,” he continued. His voice swirled through your head like the smoke from his tobacco pipe. “Did any of ‘em ever make you come?”

You thought you might burst into flames beneath him. You were scorching. “No,” you said. “They didn’t.”

“Oh, honey.” He knelt before you, and you realized that the blue of his eyes had gone several shades darker. His hands came up to rest upon your thighs. “I can make y’ feel good. Give it to ya better than anyone else ever did. Will you let me?”

Where was your voice? It seemed to have abandoned you as you attempted to reply. When you found it again, it came out as more of a croak. “Y-yes.”

He couldn’t repress the soft groan that escaped his throat. When he moved to kiss you, you happily accepted it, relaxing into the slot of his mouth against yours.

As he stood, you chased his lips, not yet willing to pull away. But then he was towering over you as you remained seated on the bed, and suddenly you felt very timid. Then there was his belt buckle, shiny and perhaps a little gaudy, but in that moment, its addition to his belt was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.

Instinctively, your trembling hands came up to unfasten it, and Rhett watched you, chest heaving slightly at the sight of your focused expression. But all too soon, he stayed your hands.

“I need ya to say it,” he gruffed. “Tell me you wan’ it. Gotta hear the words.”

“I want it, Rhett,” you replied.

He grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheek slightly. “No. Not like that. Say it.”

This was it. This was how you died. Death caused by Rhett Abbott’s fiery gaze. What a way to go. “I want you to fuck me.”

It was simultaneously for him to hear your spoken consent, and to listen to the dirty words leave your mouth.

He pulled you to your feet, your body pressed to his. His hands rested against the small of your back. You were suddenly very aware that he was hard in his jeans, bulge pressed against your belly.

He stepped back, only to bend forward, fingers curling around the hem of your dress. The pretty blue you had been admiring a few weeks ago, only for it to show up in a neatly packaged box on your bed, with a note from Rhett telling you he saw you admiring it and wanted you to have it.

That same dress was now being lifted from your body and discarded on his floor in a heap. You didn’t care where it landed.

That left you standing there in the middle of his bedroom in just your undergarments. Already, you felt exposed, and you fought the urge to cross your arms over your body. But then Rhett was taking your hands and placing them against his chest, silently urging you to unbutton his shirt.

So you did, fingers unsteady as you undid each button, revealing a white undershirt beneath. His button down floated down to some unbeknownst place, and you tugged his undershirt from where it was tucked into his jeans. He shrugged out of the cotton, leaving his torso bare to you.

You had seen him without a shirt before. But this was different. This was up close and personal. You could see his minimal tattoos. A bill and rider on his right pec. Two skeletons kissing on his ribs. 2013 written on his bicep.

Without thinking, you smoothed your hands over his chest, tracing the bull and rider before you went lower. Palms trailing over his abdomen. Down toward his belt again. You put your focus into removing the buckle, but soon grew frustrated with yourself. It should have been simple. Why were you struggling?

But Rhett stayed your hands. “I’ve got it,” he murmured. You watched as his fingers undid the buckle with ease, undoing his belt in the process. Then he was popping the button of his Wranglers and easing the zipper down and you thought you were going to go lightheaded.

He eyed you, and said, “G’on. Take it out.”

Fuck. Your knees went weak. Your hands still shook as you reached into his jeans, pushing his boxers down so you could free him. You gasped softly when your fingers wrapped around his shaft, and your gaze flickered down to take it all in.

Thick and heavy, rounded and pink at the tip. You never thought to describe a cock as beautiful. His was. Even in all your imaginations, you had never pictured this. You couldn’t decide whether to drop to your knees and take it into your mouth, or fall onto the bed and beg him to fuck you with it.

He made the decision for you. “Y’ can have it in your mouth another time. Right now, we’re takin’ it slow.”

“O-okay.” It came out as a pathetic whisper.

He took your moment of distraction to rid himself out of his jeans and underwear entirely, heavy hardness bobbing between his legs as he then reached out to help you out of your bra. Your panties came next, and he knelt down to remove those, meeting your gaze as he gently urged you to lift each leg so that he could pull the fabric off.

One hand rested behind your knee, thumb tracing circles, warm and gentle, comforting. He gave you a moment to gather your wits about you before he stood again. You were entirely bare to one another. This was what you had been dreaming about for months. Now that it was finally happening, you were a little overwhelmed.

He was so close you could smell his cologne, and the underlying natural scent that was simply described as Rhett. You could feel the heat of his body. Hear each intake of breath. He was beautiful like this. The most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Freckles dotted his skin. Years of running around with a shirt off as he carried out ranch work. You thought perhaps you might be able to connect each freckle and make a constellation out of them.

Did he find your body’s intricacies attractive, too? Your random scars and marks. The uneven parts of your skin. The things that made you, you.

His finger hooked beneath your chin. Guiding you to look at him. To meet his gaze. Then he gently grasped your wrist and brought your hand against his aching cock. “This is what you do to me.”

You whimpered. Heat pooled between your thighs. You clenched around nothing. But you still had the wherewithal to take his other hand and guide it to where you needed him. And this is what you do to me, you wanted to say. But your voice failed you.

He could feel it, though. His fingers parted your folds and he swiped each digit through. Your sharp gasp as he circled your clit was music to his ears. “So wet already? Y’ need it so bad, huh baby?” His mouth was hovering against your ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of ya.”

He felt the way your cunt pulsed that time.

He carefully led you to the bed. When the backs of your knees came in contact with the edge of it, you nearly fell backward, but he caught you, easing you down as if you were floating into a cloud.

As you got yourself situated against the mattress, he joined you, body soon hovering over your own, so broad above you. You glanced down at the sight of the considerable length of him, and knew that very soon, it would be enveloped within you.

He pulled your attention back toward him as he kissed you again, pushing your thighs apart so he could slot his body between them. He wasn’t finished with his foreplay yet. He still wanted to savor you.

“Do ya have any idea how fuckin’ beautiful y’are?” His fingers danced down your side. “Soft, too. Like a peach.” Then his mouth curved into a smile as he ducked his head to kiss at your neck. “Bet ya taste like one too.”

When his teeth nipped at your flesh, you whined low in your throat. His cock pulsed against your thigh. He began his descent of your body then, tongue and teeth exploring, tasting. When he reached your breasts, he swirled his tongue around a nipple, his hand attending to the other one.

“This okay?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he wrapped his lips around the pebbled bud.

“You think of me?” Came his next question.

“Wha…?” It was growing harder to form words, your mouth loose around the vowel.

He lifted his head to look at you. When had you tangled your hands in his hair? You had no recollection, but his silvery curls were mussed, and your fingers were the culprit.

“When y’ touch yourself. Is it to the thought of me?”

Oh, god. “Y-yes,” you peeped.

He kissed your abdomen, nuzzling into its softness. “What am I doin’, in your imagination?” Another kiss to your hip. Then directly over your pubic bone.

“I…you’re…”

“Is it this?” Fingers parted your folds, swiping through your arousal. He offered a kitten lick to your sensitive bub.

You had imagined him doing that, yes. But usually you pictured him splitting you open on his cock.

“S-sometimes.”

“Oh? What am I doin’ other times, then?” Another lick. Lips wrapping around to suck it into his mouth.

“You’re…well—”

“Say it, honey. S’just me and you.” A reassuring kiss to your inner thigh.

“I think about your dick inside me.” There. You’d said it.

“Gotta give me more than that.”

“You’re making me come around it. Showing me what it feels like to be fucked by a real man.” Speaking the words out loud felt silly. But Rhett’s reaction made you realize he thought it was anything but.

You didn’t expect him to growl low in his chest. A deep sound, gravelly in pitch. He came back up so that his face was just inches from yours, noses bumping, lips brushing.

“Y’ want me to show you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man? Cause I’ll show you, baby. I didn’t come to play. You give me your pussy and I’ll treat her right.”

“Please, I want it! I want it so bad, I’ve wanted it for months now,” you gasped, rolling your hips, trying to feel him.

His hand against your lower abdomen kept you still. “And I’ll give it to you. Gotta be patient now, I ain’t about to rush this and hurt you.” Punctuated with a kiss. Then another.

He pulled back only briefly, reaching over to the bedside table. Your eyes followed him and you realized he was grabbing the bottle of lube you’d gone into town for earlier. Oh, you’d forgotten about that.

“I’m takin’ my time with this pussy. Because as much as you’ve thought about me when y’touch yourself, I think about you, too.” There it was. “I close my eyes and dream about your pussy, clenchin’ around me. Drippin’ all over the place.”

You whined.

He opened the lube and poured a good amount into his open palm. You watched, hypnotized, as he wrapped that big palm around his cock, smoothing the liquid down his shaft, ensuring that he was slick from root to tip. Then, he poured a little more on his fingers, letting his body temperature warm it before he carefully smoothed it over your pussy, making sure to put a little extra around your already-soaked entrance.

“Gotta get her nice and ready f’me.”

You gasped when he slid his middle finger into you, testing the waters before he added his ring finger into the mix. The stretch wasn’t painful, but it was there, and you shuddered.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he began moving his fingers. “Tell me how y’ like it. How should I move my fingers, baby?” He experimented with angle and pressure, curling the digits upward.

You knew what he was trying to do. But you had been disappointed too many times in the past by guys who didn’t know what they were doing. Thinking they were making you see stars with just their fingers when you quite literally felt nothing.

You’d convinced yourself that the alleged g-spot didn’t exist. It was just a myth.

But Rhett seemed determined to find it. “C’mon now, honey. Talk to me. S’been a while since I’ve done this. I’m a li’l rusty.”

“D-don’t bother, you’re not gonna find it,” you told him, shaking your head, slightly embarrassed.

He looked at you, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I don’t make it a habit to back down from a challenge.”

He angled his hand a little more, pushing his fingers deeper into you. His other hand came up to rest lightly upon your mound.

“It should be right about…” He went deeper and crooked upward, and all of the sudden, you yelped and jolted beneath him. He had the audacity to grin. “Here.”

He built a rhythm, faster and deeper, all while you lay there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide, trembling as he fucked you with his fingers. The squelch of your wetness was lewd. It almost made you want to cover your face in embarrassment.

But how could you, when he was gazing down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky? “Look atcha. So pretty. All f’me.” When he said those words, when he told you how beautiful you were, he spoke with such conviction that you believed him.

You couldn’t bask in the praise, though, because you were quickly losing yourself. “Oh my g– ah!!” You were clutching at the quilt beneath you, fingers clawing at the fabric. God, you were dripping, you could feel it. Briefly, you worried about staining the quilt. But that was what Rhett wanted.

You swore, you’d never been so wet in your life. Not even when you touched yourself to the thought of him. Yes, the added lube helped, but it was more than that. You were soaked because of him. Because of your desire for him. Because of the affect he had on you.

But you could see the effect you had on him, too. Through hazy eyes, you glanced down, catching sight of the way his cock twitched against his thigh as he knelt on the bed. You wanted it inside you.

As if on cue, his fingers slowed within you. Absently, his thumb circled your clit. You whimpered. “One day I’ll make this pussy squirt for me. But right now, I gotta get her nice an’ ready. Make sure she can take me.”

He leaned down to kiss you languidly as he slid his fingers out of you. Then he pulled back, holding eye contact with you as he wrapped his mouth around those same fingers, moaning deeply as he sucked your arousal off of them.

“Mind if I make y’ come on my tongue first, honey?” He asked.

“I…I…” your voice failed you.

He raised a brow. “I ain’t gonna do anythin’ unless I hear the words leave your mouth.”

You had to focus to get your reply out. “Y-yes, you can use your tongue,” came your gasp.

He smirked sofly, eyes glimmering. “Atta girl.” Another kiss before he descended your body yet again, leaving kisses in his wake. Large hands pushed your thighs apart as he slotted himself there. “Need ya to tell me what feels good, alright? If you ain’t grindin’ all over my face beggin’ me to keep goin’, then I ain’t doin’ it right.”

“O-okay.” Your stomach clenched in anticipation.

Carefully, his fingers parted your folds, and he lowered his head, licking a flat stripe up your slit before he swirled the tip of his tongue around your twitching clit. He didn’t give it direct contact, however, only teasing the outer edge. It was maddening, and you found yourself trying to push your cunt against his face, searching for more.

“Uh-uh, lemme enjoy myself,” he murmured against you, hands holding your hips steady. Then he dove back in, resuming his teasing.

You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the feeling of his tongue against you. He noisily slurped at you, humming in satisfaction. You realized that he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were.

When you lifted your head to gaze down at him, he locked eyes with you, and finally wrapped his lips around your neglected bud, sucking firmly, tongue flicking against you amidst the suction.

“Oh!” You yelped, back arching off the bed as your hands came down to tangle in your hair.

He went at you like a man starved, sucking and licking, kissing and nipping. You felt as if you might float away, up into the clouds, straight toward heaven. Warmth was beginning to bloom deep within your abdomen, growing more intense with each passing moment.

You hadn’t realized you were subconsciously making sounds, whines and whimpers and moans, but they were music to Rhett’s ears.

“Y’sound so pretty,” he spoke into your cunt, his voice muffled. He lifted his head only to kiss your inner thigh. A small gesture, but it did wonders to ground you. “How’s it feelin’ for ya?”

“G-good,” your mouth felt like it was made of jello. You weren’t sure how you were even able to form a response.

With a satisfied smile, he went back to business. His thick fingers delved back inside you as his tongue lapped at you, eager to draw a sweet, sweet orgasm out of you. He wouldn’t properly fuck you until he got it. He was remiss in his duties if he didn’t draw at least one out of you before he got his cock inside you.

You shuddered as the intensity mounted. With his fingers and tongue working you over, you knew that you were going to plummet over the edge very soon. The tingle started at your fingertips, but it quickly spread to your other extremities. Warm and fizzy, as if your bloodstream had turned to shimmering champagne.

With your fingers gripping his hair, your brow furrowed as you focused on the way he was making you feel. You pulsed around his fingers, and he groaned, very aware of how quickly you were losing yourself.

“C’mon now, honey. Give it to me.” His fingers went deeper, faster, thumb coming up to rub at your clit while his mouth was occupied with speaking. “Wan’ feel you let go around my fingers, on my tongue. Gimme that sweet fuckin’ cum.”

“Rhett!” You cried out, jolting as if you’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

Victorious, he wrapped his lips around you again, fingers undulating inside you as he drew you to the precipice, and finally, sent you tumbling, hurtling, soaring over the edge.

You blacked out, it was so intense.

You were unaware of how tightly you were tugging at his hair, unaware of how you shoved your pulsing cunt against his face, riding him for all he was worth. He growled unabashedly against you, drinking from you, taking all you had to give as your cunt twitched and pulsed around his invading fingers.

You were trembling, convulsing, unable to control your body’s response as you wailed and sobbed and went silent as it rendered your brain into a mess of white noise. He didn’t let up, continuing the caress of his tongue and fingers until you began to float down from the blinding heat.

When you came to, Rhett was hovering over you, face gentle, eyes kind. “Hey there, honey. That was a lot. Y’ alright?” He asked, tone sweet.

I’m fine, you tried to say, but it came out more like “��m fuh.”

Cautiously, he stroked his fingers over your warm cheek. “Did so good f’me, but I need your words. You want me to keep goin’, or do ya need a break?”

“K-keep going,” you managed. Why were your cheeks wet? Were you crying?

He wiped the tears away. “Hey now, you’re safe. I’ve got ya.”

“I kn-know.” You reached for him, and he let you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He sat up, pulling you with him, hugging your body close to his, holding you until your unexpected bout of tears subsided.

“How you doin’? Wanna take a break?” He repeated.

You leaned back to look at him, laughing slightly at yourself as you gathered your wits about you. “I’m okay. Not sure why I’m crying. That’s so embarrassing.”

But he shook his head. “Don’t apologize, little darlin’. That was a lot for you, I get it.” He kissed your temple. “Maybe we should continue this later.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to keep going.” There was no doubt in your mind.

“Okay,” he relented with a nod. His lips captured your own, and you melted into him. You could taste yourself on his tongue. “How do y’want me, then? Wanna ride me? Want me on top?”

You hesitated, considering the options. “Can, um…can you be on top?” You wished to be enveloped in the sheer size of him, safe and warm beneath his broadness.

His mouth curved into a smile. “Sure thing. Lemme get you situated.” He eased you out of his lap before he moved to grab a pillow from the bed, putting it down in just the right spot. Then he patted the pillow. “S’for your hips.”

He guided you so that you were spread out against the mattress, your hips elevated slightly by the pillow. Then he reached for the bottle of lube again, drizzling more of it onto his cock, as some of it had wiped off against the bed when he’d been between your thighs. “Kinda jumped the gun, puttin’ this on earlier. Didn’t think I was gonna take a detour. But when I saw this pretty li’l pussy, I just couldn’t resist,” he admitted.

Again, he smoothed more lube onto your puffy cunt as he spoke, and you whimpered at the sensitivity. But you were quickly distracted by the sight of him wrapping his fist around himself, offering a few firm strokes as he shifted to hover over you.

He took a moment to gaze down at you, face a mask of adoration. He didn’t take this lightly, the fact that you wanted to give yourself to him like this. You trusted him implicitly, and it made his heart soar.

“I’m gonna take it slow, honey,” he hummed, as he guided his cock through your slick.

You gasped at the feeling, shivering beneath him. Pulsing with the desire to be full of him. His gaze remained focused on the way your folds parted to accommodate him. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to be inside you.

His tip caught at your entrance once, twice, as he slid over you. Just as you were about to plead with him to fuck you already, he aligned himself with you.

With one big hand placed lovingly against your lower abdomen, the other still wrapped around his shaft, he slowly began to ease into you. Your brows pinched together at the feeling, and with every inch, you felt the stretch. Faint at first, but growing as he filled you further.

Although you had loosened up considerably with the help of your orgasm, the sheer size of him still took your breath away. He wasn’t so big that it was painful, but it was certainly a lot to adjust to.

His jaw clenched, and he had to hold himself back from thrusting forward without warning. “You’re so tight, darlin’. Fuck, oh my god, you feel s’good.”

It had been too long since he’d been in the confines of a warm, wet, inviting pussy. His hand and the silicone stroker he used in his alone time were nothing compared to the way you felt.

You could only whimper as he continued to bring his hips forward. Now, even now, it felt right. As if this was where he was always meant to be, buried within the deepest part of you, one with your body. Strangely enough, it felt so comforting, so safe. Filled to the brim, shivering beneath his weight.

Your thighs trembled around his hips, and you cried out when you realized he’d bottomed out, given you all he could, all that you could take. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and Rhett nuzzled his face into your neck, sucking in a sharp breath as he relished in the way you felt wrapped around him.

“How y’ feelin’, huh? Talk to me,” he rasped against your skin, tongue tasting the salt of your sweat.

“F-full,” you whined. “So full. So big.”

He gave you a moment, allowing your body to relax beneath him. Soon, his mouth was on yours again, kissing you sweetly. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he encouraged. There was no hurriedness in his tone. He wanted you to take it at your own pace.

The tension melted, replaced by an itching, burning, deep desire. You knew you were ready. You’d never been more so. “I’m ready,” you confessed, clutching at his shoulders. “Please, want you to move.”

He braced himself above you, arms bracketing either side of your head as he pulled back and then shunted his hips forward. Slowly, not too fast, but it still drew a squeak from you.

He swallowed the sound, mouth open against yours as he drew back again, only to fill you right back up. Tears pickled behind your eyes. Heat licked at your skin.

The drag of his cock was so slow it was almost maddening, yet nearly too much all at once. You were so fucking full, and he drove himself deeper still. You could barely focus on anything else but him. His warmth, his scent, the sound of his sighs and grunts, the heave of his chest against your own.

“Faster,” you pleaded. “Harder.”

He obliged you, jaw set in focus as his rhythm picked up. Your eyes rolled back, body undulating as he drove into you repeatedly. But he wasn’t satisfied just yet. A little shift of your hips, pulling you up toward him, angling you a bit better, and then, “Oh my god, Rhett!”

He grinned, breathless, victorious. “That’s your spot, ain’t it?”

He already knew the answer.

You lost yourselves in each other that night, in the warmth of his bed. All that had been building for the last several months came forth, as if a dam had been broken.

Now that you were joined in such an intimate way, you didn’t want to part.

Rhett let his forehead rest against your shoulder, mouth open to let out his moans and grunts, his eyes shut tight as he fucked into you. “Take it, take it, take it,” he gruffed, head spinning, strong thighs shaking as he drove himself into you.

He licked at your collarbone, teeth grazing soft skin, sending pleasurable ripples through you. You felt lightheaded, each of you gasping, heaving. He was impossibly deep inside of you, connected to you, to the point where you couldn’t tell where you began and he ended.

He owned you, and you let him. You’d never dreamed it could be like this. A connection so intimate, so loving, yet so primal. No one had ever given it to you like this before. No man had ever been able to make you feel like this with just his cock.

But Rhett was not just any man. He was everything. Your sun, your stars, your moon. Your universe.

“I love you!” You heard yourself cry out. Not of your body. Not of this earth. You were somewhere else. Somewhere ethereal. Heavenly.

He groaned breathlessly, and the pitch of it changed, almost to a whimper, high in his throat. “I love y’too, honey. So much.” His hips stuttered. He had to focus on lasting just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he gritted out. When he lifted his head, his hair had fallen against his forehead in fair curls. “Y’feel so good. I can hardly stand it.” He kissed your tears off your cheeks. “Gon’ have me coming for you.”

“I-I want it,” you squeaked, eyes wide, pleading. “Want you to fill me up, please!”

“And I’ll give it to ya, promise,” he murmured, voice strained, “but y’gotta let me get you there first.”

He switched his rhythm, grinding deeply against you, and your twitching, puffy clit brushed against his pubic bone with each movement. It immediately pulled a sharp cry from you, and your body catapulted into his as if you’d been struck with a live wire.

You buried your face against his shoulder, biting at the skin, sure to leave a bruise. It felt so good, so good, so good. But how could you properly describe it? There were no adjectives in any language to fully, accurately describe the way you felt.

You lost control of yourself, experiencing a sort of out of body sensation. You were floating, but he kept you grounded. You were going to shatter into a million pieces, but he held you together. You were consumed with wildfire, but he was the cool summer rain calming the flames.

Rhett’s voice was rough in your ear. “Atta girl, baby, shit,” he grunted. You couldn’t hear him over your own sobs of euphoria. He was so strong and steady above you. A great big immovable force of a man, even as he lost himself. “I can feel you squeezin’ me. Are y’close?”

“Uh-huh!” You weren’t even sure how you managed that when you barely had a single coherent thought going through your mind. All you could think was Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.

He was losing himself. “Please, darlin’. Let go f’me. I’m gonna come so hard, gonna fill you up, but I need you to do it first. Just let go, I’m beggin’ ya honey.” Pleading, ready to fall apart, barely hanging on.

You were a thread being pulled taut. Tighter, tighter, tighter. Any more and you’d snap. But then his mouth was against yours and he offered one last please. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cock.”

Maybe it was his words that sent you over the edge. Maybe it was that one last thrust deep within you. Either or, you were freefalling. Hurtling straight off the edge of a cliff. You tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, no sound came.

All you could do was let it wash over you in deliciously intense waves, even more intense than your previous orgasm. It seemed to last forever, yet not long enough. Wonderfully dizzying, yet comforting, as if you were floating down into a warm hug.

You must have blacked out again, because when you came back to yourself, Rhett’s face was buried against your breast, mouth open against your skin as he pulsed within you, emptying his seed deep within your fluttering cunt.

The feeling brought a lazy smile to your face. Oh, how far gone you were.

But as he came down from his own euphoria, you noticed something. It started in your thighs at first. A subtle twitch. But then it intensified, spreading further. Within seconds, you were full on trembling, so much so that your teeth had begun to chatter.

“O-o-oh my god,” you whimpered. “I-I can’t stop!”

Rhett hummed, strong arms wrapping around your torso as he pulled you upright, softening cock still seated within you. “Hey, I’ve got ya. Was just intense, ‘s all.”

You had no control of your extremities, all you could do was curl into your man’s embrace and wait for the tremors to pass. “Th-that was so insane,” you spoke against his shoulder. And then, all at once, a flood of emotion hit you out of nowhere.

Now you were crying, on top of shaking uncontrollably. You felt like an absolute mess, sobbing in Rhett’s arms. He was so patient with you, soothing you, cradling you close as your body processed it all.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” It was his velvet drawl that soothed you and brought you back to yourself. His strong, work-roughened hands were gentle against your skin, familiar and careful all at once.

You had no idea how long you stayed like that. When you finally lifted your head to look at him, your thighs were slick with your combined released, and gravity had long since released his cock from you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Welcome back,” he murmured, smiling kindly. “How you feelin’?”

“Like I ran a marathon,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “In a good way.”

“Yeah?” He nuzzled his nose against yours.

“That was…I’ve never felt like that before. I can’t even describe it. You…you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

That made his chest swell with pride. But he didn’t take the time to bask in it. Instead, he guided you off his lap. “Need t’ get cleaned up before you fall asleep on me, alright?”

You stood, but your legs were unsteady, and your first few steps were much like a newborn fawn’s. Rhett bit back a smile as he guided you to the bathroom. There, he helped you clean up. You weren’t sure that you could handle a shower in the state you were in, so he lovingly wiped you down with a damp cloth.

After you were situated, he led you back to the bedroom. “You need some jammies,” he mused. “Wan’ me to go grab ‘em for you?”

“Would you?” You asked, grateful for his offer. “They’re in the middle left drawer of my dresser.”

“Sure thing.” After he threw on a pair of plaid lounge pants, he disappeared from the room, leaving you alone for a moment.

You took that time to gather your wits about you. You had just experienced the most wonderfully intense sex of your entire life. Never in your wildest imaginations did you think it would be like this. You’d literally gone into a shaking fit after the fact, he’d given it to you so good.

Part of you felt a little mortified at the way you had reacted, but it wasn’t as if you could help it. It had quite literally been involuntary. But Rhett has soothed your worries, offering you understanding.

For him, your involuntary trembling and tears had reassured him that he’d done his job right. And as he searched for a pair of pajamas, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Everything was out in the open. You’d both taken that leap and now, there was nothing keeping you apart.

He was glad that your miscommunication between each other hadn’t done any damage. Now that you’d talked it through, you each knew where the other stood. There were no more guessing games to play.

As he sauntered back to join you in his bedroom, he felt a sense of relief. All was as it should be.

“Thank you,” you told him, as you reached for the pajamas. You’d wrapped his quilt around yourself, shielding your nakedness from him. Although you had just allowed him to fuck you, you felt a little shy in the aftermath.

Rhett allowed you a moment of privacy, slipping into the bathroom to brush his teeth while you put your pajamas on. Once he returned, you were sitting cross-legged on the bed.

You were staring at a wet spot in the fabric. “Guess we made a mess,” you bashfully mused.

He smiled, shaking his head. “Guess we did. Don’t worry, I’ve got another blanket in the closet. I’ll wash the quilt tomorrow.” He leaned down to kiss you before he tugged the quilt off the bed. “Next time I’ll put a towel down.”

Next time.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” He was already halfway across the room, searching for a blanket in his closet.

“Thank you. You, um, you made me feel really safe during that. And you didn’t make me feel stupid for getting all shaky like I did.”

He paused, blanket in hand before he made his way back to you. He set the blanket aside as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’d never do that to ya. Hell, if I fuck you, and you’re tremblin’ that hard after the fact, then I know I did my job right.”

You ducked your head, smiling brightly at his admission. “Even so, thank you.”

He tipped your chin up. “You’re welcome.” But then his face grew serious as he rested his hand on your knee. “I need you to know that when you said I ruined you for anyone else…that’s what I want. I don’t want there to be anyone else. Just you an’ me, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good, because me too.”

His eyes shone, happiness glimmering within them. “Glad that’s settled.” And then, “by the way, I was thinkin’…would you wanna move your stuff down the hall and start sleepin’ in here, with me, from now on?” Then he caught himself. “Unless of course you’d rather not, that’s okay too. Don’t want y’ to feel any pressure.”

“Rhett.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d love to move into your room with you.”

He grinned, clearly pleased. “That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say.”

You leaned in, kissing him sweetly. “I hope you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Rhett Abbott.”

He pulled you closer, big arms wrapping around your waist. “And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, little darlin’. Don’t you forget it.”

You sighed, melting into him, entirely relaxed. For a man who had such a rough and tumble air about him, he had a soul as sweet as blood-red jam. He was so good to you, kind and patient, sparing no expense to make sure you were taken care of.

After all, he was your million dollar man. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

tagging (those who might be interested):

@milesmillergf @rhettabbotts @peachystenbrough @withahappyrefrain @up-thereinthesky

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#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction

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simplyholl · 9 months

Text

A Gift For A God

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18 + ONLY. Minors DNI.

See My Masterlist Here

This is a gift for @fandxmslxt69 ❤️❤️❤️ for @fictive-sl0th Secret Santa 2023!

You sigh as you walk out of the sixth store today. You had been Christmas shopping for your boyfriend, Loki. But, you weren’t having any luck. What do you get a god who has everything? He was used to the finest fabrics on Asgard so he was picky about his clothes. You couldn’t afford the super nice brands he was accustomed to.

You thought about buying him more books, but he had so many there was hardly any space left for them in his room. The bookshelf was filled and overflowing. You voiced your concerns about what to get him, and he assured you that you didn’t have to get him anything. “All I want is you, my love.” He said while kissing each of your knuckles the night before.

You load the gifts you bought for your family into your car, looking at the other stores in the shopping center. You needed to run into the craft store for your sister’s gift. She had taken up sewing recently, so you thought you would get her some fabric.

You walk through the aisles, hoping something would catch your eye. When you reached the fabrics, you chose a few that your sister would like. You look on the opposite shelf, feeling the different textures. You stop immediately when you find a silky red one. You had the perfect idea.

You lay on Loki’s bed, fidgeting with the blanket. It wasn’t often you could surprise him. He usually knew you were up to something before you could act on it. This time, he didn’t have a clue. You could hear his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he walked to his room. You couldn’t wait for him to come in and find you.

The door creaks open. His heavy boots thump against the floor. Thud. You squeeze your legs together to quell the throbbing but it’s no use. Arousal pools against the smooth fabric. Thud. Your heart beats faster as he gets closer. Thud. You try your best to stay in the sexy position you’ve posed yourself in, on your back with your hair splayed across his pillows.

The light in his bedroom comes on illuminating you on his bed. Loki lifts his brow, his eyes darkening as he notices you. “What have we here?” He asks, walking painfully slow toward you. When he finally reaches the bed, he doesn’t bother taking off his fighting leathers first. He kneels beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip under him. “You said all you wanted for Christmas was me, and here I am.”

“Here you are.” He purrs, pushing his long hair behind his ears. He reaches out to toy with the bow holding your breasts within. An amused expression crosses his face as he runs a long finger from the loops on the bow to the small piece that barely covers your aching nipples.

His digit stills as it lands on the sensitive nub. You whimper, as he removes his hands from you. He hovers, admiring your beautiful body wrapped up perfectly for him. The long piece that connects your chest to your ass barely covers anything. Loki’s gaze holds on that spot for a moment. You don’t think anything of it, until he nudges your legs apart with his leather clad thigh.

“You’re soaked already, darling.” He smirks, reaching down to swipe at your core. His finger dips underneath the ribbon, collecting your arousal. He brings it to his lips, savoring your taste. He releases his finger with a loud pop. You squirm, wishing it was you in his mouth, not his finger.

He captures your lips in a sweet a kiss, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Loki scatters kisses along your jaw line, down your neck. His teeth nip your collar bone, and you arch toward him. “This is the best gift I have ever received, my love. Perhaps I’ll take my time opening it.”

He palms your breasts gently, careful not to reveal your nipples. You press them against his rough hands, hoping he would give in. Finally, he rolls one between two fingers, the silky ribbon rubbing deliciously against you.

Loki lowers his head, his black curls fanning against your arms. He takes a hardened peak between his lips. His warm tongue flicks against the fabric, making you squirm. “Loki, please?” You whine, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He pinches the smooth fabric, playing with the bow. Slowly, he pulls it apart, leaving your chest bare before him. He removes the rest of your makeshift lingerie, spreading your legs. He admires you before burying his face between your thighs. His firm, velvet tongue strokes you slowly. You buck your hips, trying to get him to go faster.

It’s no use, his arm traps you, holding you down. Loki works your clit with the flat of his tongue until you are a whimpering mess. You cry out his name as he seals his lips on the most sensitive part of you, sucking roughly. You come apart underneath him, thighs gripping his head, holding him in place.

Loki doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, he removes himself from his pants, pushing them down his hips just a little. He lines himself up at your entrance, pushing into you slowly. You lock your legs around him, pulling him toward you.

He groans as he sinks deeper into you. He buries his head against your shoulder, lips latched onto your throat. He draws the delicate skin between his lips. Your legs tremble around him as you feel another orgasm building.

Your nipples graze the leather top as he lifts your leg, rocking into you with hard, deep thrusts. You clench around him. He rewards you with a growl that rips from his chest. His teeth scrape against your shoulder.

You grip his arms, incoherent cries escape you as your orgasm barrels through you. He grips your hips tighter, thrusting wildly. Loki bites down on your shoulder as he finishes inside you. You shiver, you love it when he marks you.

He rubs his nose against yours, locking eyes with you. “I love you more than you could ever know.” He confesses as you lazily play with his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. He holds you in his strong arms, telling you how much he loves you, and how proud of you he is. You smile, thanking the powers that be for blessing you with Loki. Every day feels like Christmas morning with him.

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmsIxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

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privategurlsblog · 16 days

Text

No Regard for the Cost - A.T

Not intended for minors! 18+

Warnings: smut, piv, awkwardness, unprotected, morning after pill, cheating

PLOT: you and him just can’t keep your hands off each other

🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩

It had all started a few months prior. Alex had been sat in class, mulling over his work with his hand trawling through his long unruly hair, when you had been sat next to him by the teacher.

In college, they were supposed to be more laidback, you were all eighteen after all, this was your second year. And yet your teacher absolutely hated you, and seeing as she branded you as a disruption for always giggling with your best friend, she had demanded you moved next to someone more enthusiastic about their work.

And so she moved you next to him. Alex. Alex Turner. You knew his name from your classes, a few parties you'd seen his face at, you're pretty sure he went to your school too but you don't really remember. All you know is that he's as boring as a brick wall and barely graces a person with a smile.

You had sat down next to him with a hearty huff, the only sound emitting throughout the otherwise quiet room. While everyone else seemed to focus, you just never could. Your fingers fiddled with your pen, alternating between playing with the end and sticking it between your teeth as you glanced towards the nonsensical worksheet you were supposed to be doing.

Alex was too engrossed in his work to really care. His pen stayed driven to the paper, scribbling furiously, answering all the questions that might as well be written in a different language for you.

Your lips quirked up, amused by his messy writing, all in capital letters. It made it so visible that you couldn't help but take a peek at some of the answers, glancing through your hair so the beady eyed bat also known as your teacher wouldn't catch you.

Your legs swung under the desk, hitting the metal pole in the middle occasionally that Alex's feet were resting on. The disruption made him tense but he tried to stay focused. He couldn't afford any distractions when exams were a mere few months away. He'd already fallen behind because of time with his mates, he wasn't going to let some good time girl take his attention away now.

The silence was loud to you, almost harrowing. Your sighs had filled the air over and over again, your leg kept kicking. You half arsed copying Alex's answers, getting distracted halfway through a question and deciding to pick at your nail varnish instead.

Alex glanced through the gap in his arm at you, watching the peeled polish land on the table beneath you. You had a frown on your brow, far more focused on fiddling with your nails than the work before you.

Alex tensed when another sigh fell from your lips, followed by another kick and another gruelling scrape of one nail against the other. You looked up with wide eyes when he slammed his pen down on the desk, glaring at you now that he was sat up. You met his eyes with a quirked brow.

"Do you mind? Some of us care about our education. Pick your nails elsewhere if it's that important," he huffed. It amused you how angry he sounded through a mere whisper, the smile tugging on the corners of your lips only pissed him off more.

"Sorry arsehole," you scoffed, "I wouldn't be sat next to your boring arse if I could help it anyway."

"Yeah well help it by doing your work and shutting the fuck up," he said sharply, stunning you into silence before he returned to his work.

But that's all it had taken. After he'd shown that slither of his personality, you'd been intrigued by him. You copied his answers, stayed quiet like he requested and then leant back in your chair to observe him once you were done. He was on the next question, you'd need to wait for him to write it before you copied - obviously. So you took the time to check him out.

Long dark brown hair hung over his face, hiding your view of his large, deer like eyes. His figure was fairly small for a bloke, small shoulders, small legs. But he had a large presence, despite that. He was hunched over so much that you actually concerned yourself with the risk of his spine being damaged.

"You know....you're curved up like an ugly snail," you hissed, gripping his attention proved by the tenseness of his shoulders, "maybe if you loosened up once in a while, you'd have a bit more fun. Oh, and maybe you'd be a few inches taller than five foot nothing."

"I'm five foot nine," he whispers back, looking up at you with a dark expression. His skin was tainted with youth, acne in various areas on his chin and cheeks, cheeks a little puffy and a pouty, moody expression that you couldn't help but feel endeared by.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Like I would want to impress you."

He had a sharp tongue, was moody and looked good. You wanted him, you were bored and there he was, entertaining you. You slid your palm over his jean cladded thigh, leaning closer into him and feeling him tense under your touch. His breath hitched and his eyes widened, the hatefulness fading into curiosity.

"I'd guess by your breathing, you wouldn't mind showing off for me once in a while," you said it lowly, teasingly, your voice dripping with suggestiveness. Alex's thigh tensed, his breathing deepened and yet he never stopped you.

"How about you just carry on writing those answers and I carry on copying them?" You drawled, your hand sliding up further, "then I'll be impressed."

"Change them then. I'm not being accused of copying you," he tried to maintain the annoyance in his tone but as your hand got higher, his voice followed suit. You chuckled, ignoring him and he bent back over his work, trying not to let you affect him.

Your hand had paused. Why he didn't move it, neither of you knew, but he never did. He let it rest there while he refocused on the task at hand, starting to write the answer to the next question. He was so engrossed in it, he forgot all about your touch and seeing as your annoying habits had subsided, he near enough forgot all about you all together.

That was until you sneakily slid your hand over his crotch, pressing your palm into him.

Alex dropped his pen, his eyes widened and his breath hitched. You smiled to yourself, eyes boring into the sheet of paper beneath you as if you were actually interested.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Alex hissed, leaning in close to your ear. You could feel his breath cascading over your neck, making you shiver subtly but you wouldn't let him know he was affecting you too.

"Do you want me to stop?" You said beneath your breath, squeezing him again. He'd gotten a bit hard, even from a few little touches. His breathing remained shaky, and for some unknown reason, he couldn't speak. He knew he needed to focus. Hell, he'd never even thought of you in this way. And yet he didn't speak, didn't say no, didn't even want to.

Alex had gotten one or two blowjobs before, a few handjobs here and there from ex girlfriends and flings. But he'd never, ever done anything on school grounds, least of all in a classroom with a teacher present. You didn't seem to care one bit about being caught, your movements subtle enough that you could simply just have your hand on your own knee.

He didn't know why he was responding so much but seeing as you had your eyes glued to the work, he decided to have a gander. He had to admit you're attractive. The headband holding back your hair made your side profile more stark, your eyelashes incredibly long and thick, caressing the bulbs of your cheeks as you looked down. And fuck....your lips. Pouty, enclosed around a pen, plump, perfect. He thought about them wrapped around his cock and had to grip the table, your hand moving again on his crotch, his erection becoming more prominent as your touches ensued.

He spread his legs further, deciding just not to reply to you and instead looked back towards his work. It was a bit pointless, he couldn't exactly focus with your hand hovering over him as it was. You kept on with your movements until he was fully hard, then you wrapped your hand around him and began tugging through his clothes.

Alex's breathing was laboured, his knuckles were turning white from how hard they were clenching the table. He could feel the heat pouring into his cheeks, and equally when you dared to look around you could see that they were stained crimson. His hair had started to stick to his sweaty forehead, beads of perspiration forming as he tried to ignore the pleasure.

The roughness of his boxers, combined with the randomness of the moment and the fact that he'd noticed you were fit all led to him catching your wrist quickly. You glanced around, shocked by the suddenness, your heart racing.

"You need to stop," he warned you, "I can't....I'm too....close now.”

It was hard for him to admit that he was that easy, but you weren't annoyed, nor were you amused, you just found it flattering. Your cheeks lifted as your smile grew, and at his request you took your hand away.

He'd missed the warmth of your touch, his boner hadn't gone down for the rest of the lesson but eventually it came to an end. You had a worksheet full of answers due to him, he had a raging hard on because of you.

After the lesson you had taken his hand, led him into the girls toilets, making sure there was nobody to see the sordid sight and you had wanked him off until he came all over your hand, which had not taken long.

And that was it. From that point onwards, you and Alex started doing stuff. From handjobs in the toilets, to fingering you at parties, to meeting up in his bedroom pretending to study and fucking instead. Weeks passed of the same ordeal, and yet there was nothing to you both. You didn't like him like that, he didn't like you either. You just liked....touching each other.

One night, Alex was restless. He kept tossing and turning, thinking of you and that first day you'd came onto him. It was the third day in a row in the month since it had happened that you guys hadn't met up or ran off somewhere in college. You were away for half term, somewhere on some British island, the Isle of Wight or something like that, he hadn't cared to listen really with his mouth buried in your cunt.

He'd thought he wouldn't miss you. You guys weren't really that close after all, he just liked your body and you liked his academic mind. But he found himself hard beneath the sheets, and he was a bit sick of wanking himself off when usually you'd be here to do it for him.

It was late, somewhere between twelve and three but he'd lost count of the hours tossing and turning. He picked up his phone and decided to call you and try his luck. You didn't answer, disappointment and frustration brewed inside of him as he threw the phone across the room. But then his computer ringtone went off and he raced to it to see you were video calling him.

He answered with tousled hair, a bare chest and a little peek of his burgundy plaid PJ bottoms on show. You drunk in the sight of him, feeling a bit like a dog on heat as you too weren't unaffected by the change up in your routine.

The meaning of the call was clear, a mere few words exchanged about how your holiday was and his break before you'd stripped to your baby pink laced bra with the cute white bow in the middle, and Alex had rid himself of them old man PJ bottoms to reveal his tight boxers instead.

You barely spoke, both too on edge about your parents catching you even at your ages. The thought of his mother walking in on him getting himself off to you made Alex's skin crawl.

So while you teased your fingers through your pussy, the swollen nub being the only thing you paid attention to, he gripped his hardened cock in his fist and pumped languidly to the sight of you.

Your tits bounced once you put your fingers inside, you rode them on the chair as it squeaked beneath you and Alex watched on with his thumb teasing his sensitive tip and tiny groans leaving his lips.

His eyes were glued to the supple flesh, a yellowed mark in the shape of his lips tainted the top of them from where he'd sucked you the last time you were together.

"Wish I could suck on them now," he typed into the chat, too afraid to say those words out loud in the middle of the night.

Your eyes rolled back once you read his message, to tease him further, you moved your other hand to your tit, pinching your hardened nipple and rolling it between your fingers.

"Wish I could suck your cock right now. Miss your cum in my throat," you typed back, and the image of that. Of you on your knees gazing up at him, showing him your white stained tongue after swallowing his load, made him explode.

You watched in awe, hips still rolling against your hand as Alex's cock twitched, his fist squeezing the tip and the white, sticky liquid shot up towards his chest, stark against his flushed skin.

Watching him throw his head back and bite his swollen lip hard enough to draw blood to contain his moans, made you lose it all the same. You tightened around your fingers, gushing all over them and your hips never stopped moving until the last of it had consumed you.

"See you later," you'd mumbled tiredly once your panties were firmed back on.

"Yeah, see ya," Alex waved before x'ing the tab and going to sleep, satisfied now that he'd had his fix from you.

But then the worst thing happened. Well, the worst thing that could happen to two people your age, trying to hide their sexual endeavours.

You were round Alex's, the day before college started up again. He'd coaxed you here with promises to help you study for the upcoming mock exams. You'd only returned yesterday and if you were being truthful, you wanted to see your friends but you also wanted a quick shag beforehand.

Alex was on top of you, his clothed erection grinding into your clothed pussy and his mouth attacking your neck. Your legs splayed out so he could get deeper and the both of you were occupying yourselves with the others neck so you could contain your noises, seeing as his parents were home.

To them, you were just being tutored by him. They were nice enough, offered you teas, coffees, biscuits. But mostly they just left you to your own devices and waved goodbye when you left.

You spun him around, straddling him instead. The short pleated skirt you had on rode up your thighs and exposed the supple flesh to Alex, who ran his eager palms all over them as you continued to kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, both his hands moving to your arse as he grinded you onto him, his hardness pressing against your core pulling moans from you that he continuously swallowed.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his forehead sticking to yours from the heat of the moment, his wide eyes gazed into you hungrily. God, he was so horny. You'd never have imagined it before trying it on with him, Alex had always been subtle to the point you barely registered his existence. But all that shyness had dissipated into a fucking horny boy who could not keep his hands off you, no matter the circumstance.

He squeezed your arse, nails digging into the flesh while you leant further into him, hips rolling as your lips, teeth and tongues collided.

"Alex- oh!"

You squealed and Alex's breath hitched when the door suddenly swung open and his mother stood there. She was holding a basket of washing, those plaid PJ bottoms sat right on the top, with her mouth hung low and her eyes wide.

A blush crept up onto her cheeks as she hastily put the basket down, quickly turning away.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't....sorry. Your washing is there Alexander."

"Right," he said quickly, "can you just....just get out mum, please!"

His cheeks were red hot, not that you could see them as you had your face buried into the sheets beside his shoulder, but you could feel the heat of them where his cheek was pressed to yours. His body had gone rigid, apart from his cock, which had softened in a matter of seconds.

She swiftly left the room, apologising profusely as she did and the door shut behind her leaving a horrendous silence. You sat up quickly, crawling off him to reach for your top, which he'd discarded, desperate to see your tits, the second you'd entered his bedroom.

Now he didn't argue as you covered yourself up, shifting to the edge of his bed to hold your head in your hands, the embarrassment was almost shameful. How could you look her in the eye again? You'd never be able to come here to study, she'd be downstairs thinking you're shagging the whole time. The fact that she'd be right isn't relevant.

"That was fucking mortifying," Alex scoffed, the redness lingering in his cheeks. He sat up swiftly, pulling on his T-shirt. Honestly he was quite grateful that you'd only been kissing, considering he was just about to beg you to fuck him instead.

"I'd better go," you grimaced, standing up quickly to retrieve your tote hidden in the corner, all your work still inside it. But Alex was quick to stop you and demand you stay otherwise it would look like you guys were just shagging. Your stark reminder that you were fell on deaf ears and you'd ended up having to eat with them all that night.

And so you stopped going to Alex's house and met in the public library instead. It was dull, a grey building with centuries old burgundy, navy and shit brown covered books. You weren't a fan of the musty smell, the hard uncomfortable chairs or the sniffly weirdos that hung around there every night. But you two had no better options when evening strikes and so you put up with it.

One specific evening, you actually were focusing on your work. You had a mock exam for the subject you shared with Alex the next day, at nine in the morning and you were nervous. All the lack of effort put in seemed like a good idea when you were having good nights out and laughing till your belly hurt in class with your friends, but you knew once the exam hit, you'd be panicking.

And yet Alex didn't seem to gauge that. His eager hands stroked your thigh under the table, hitching your skirt up as his lips sucked on your neck. You kept telling him not to leave marks and he kept defying you, always ending up gobbling you up like a three course meal and usually you were too lost in pleasure to care. But right now, it was annoying you.

"Alex!" You groaned, pushing him away, ignoring the hurt in his eyes, "I'm serious about this."

"You're never serious about your work," he scoffed, moving back towards you but you pushed him away again.

"I do care Alex, I just don't live and breathe education like you do," you sneered, looking back towards your notes. The letters were starting to levitate in your vision, scrambling up until it was all as nonsensical as ever. You couldn't understand how it came so easy to him when for you it was the worst thing imaginable.

"Well what's the point in me being here if you don't want me?" Alex huffed, gathering his pens up. You watched him as he started putting his stuff away, trying to ignore the tinge of hurt tugging at your heart. It's not that you liked him but Christ, are you really that insufferable that he won't even actually study with you?

"You're leaving?" You gawp at him and he shrugs, sliding his books and pencil case away in the satchel you always make fun of. Seriously, does he think he's a barrister? You're college kids.

"I'm all studied up for tomorrow. Need a good rest tonight anyways," he says, slinging it over his shoulder before he stands.

You look up to him trying to bite back the tears at the back of your eyes. The fact you're so frustrated anyway, combined with him being an arse, is just too much to handle. Your throat constricts and you don't trust yourself to speak, so you just shrug half heartedly and turn away.

Alex walks away with no care in the world.

That day changed your perspective on him. The day after that you had your exam and ignored his text after asking to meet him in the car park. You just wanted to head home, it had been a disaster trying to make your words concise, put your knowledge to paper. It didn't help that last nights mishap dangled over you like an insistent reminder to be miserable.

After a few more days of you ignoring him, Alex tracked you down. He found you in the pub, now that mocks were over, you and your best friend decided to have a few drinks to celebrate. You were hunched over a pornstar martini, giggling at your friend's story about some bad sex she'd had the night prior.

You saw Alex come in with his friends, they always made a ruckus which was bizarre because he was so quiet in comparison. But your eyes had merely flickered up and then back down, ignoring his that caught on you and lingered.

Alex waited until you went to the toilet before his own chair scraped back and he chased after you. Unbeknownst to him, his friends and yours shared a look. Neither of you had said much about where you stood but they all knew you'd been at it. They all chuckled at each other, assuming you two wouldn't be back for a while.

He waited in the corridor leading to the toilets, eyes driven to the faceless woman with the triangle dress painted on the oak door. He couldn't wait for the moment it opened and you would be stood behind it, you were driving him mad ignoring him. Two months of casual sex and then you ghost him? He had to know what was going on.

You didn't notice him as you walked out, eyes driven to your phone where you were texting your mother back, only when you bumped shoulders with him did you look up. Your expression iced immediately, making him frown in return.

"Why are you ignoring me?" He asked you, annoyance dripping off his tongue. It made your heart race for all the wrong reasons; you were angry. How could a nerd like Alex Turner brush you off so casually and then wonder why when he fancies a shag? You must have lost your touch.

"Because you're a dickhead," you clapped back, pushing his arm as you walked past. He followed after you like a loyal puppy, even though he had the eyes to match, you knew he was anything but.

"What have I done?" He whined, sounding so confused that it only angered you more. Boys and their refusal to have some fucking empathy.

"Piss off Alex. The sex is done, okay? Find someone else to shag," you waved him off, entering the bulk of the pub again. Your friends hadn't yet noticed you were back, in fact, no one had. Alex spun you in your pep, his eyebrows and eyes near enough touching and blending into one dark brown mess as he frowned at you.

"Could you not just tell me what I've done? If you don't wanna fuck that's fine but at least give me a reason."

Your mouth dropped open, an unhumoured laugh falling from your lips, "I have to give you a reason? Do you realise how much of a cunt you sound?"

"Right...." Alex seemed to come back to, realising his mistake and his eyes softened but you weren't falling for it. He's a teenage boy, trying to get his leg over after all. You don't trust him.

"I'm sorry for saying that. Obviously I understand if you don't....I just feel like I've upset you and I'd like if you'd tell me how so I can fix it...." He corrects himself and quite unfairly, you scoff.

"Like you give a fuck Alex! Just fuck off!"

You stalk away, back to your friends who all frown at your expression of thunder. You quietly bitch about him to them, ignoring the penetrating feel of his eyes on you. Eventually, you and your friends leave to go to another bar.

You and Alex don't speak much for a while after that. The only time you guys interact is when you absolutely have to for the sake of your class. Other than that, you avoid him at all costs and he seems to have gotten the hint himself.

A few weeks pass, in that time you hear rumours from your friend Rosie that Alex has a new girlfriend from the other college. You pay no mind, it's not like you liked each other anyway is it?

The next party you attend, he's there with her. Charlotte, her name is. And to be honest, he has a habit of picking up girls who should be out of his league. Charlotte has long blonde hair and a big bust, you're sure that's probably why he went for her. Her smoky eyes don't stray from him the whole time. His don't stray from you.

She goes home early. You don't mean to pry but you hear her telling Rosie that she's got to be up for something tomorrow so her parents want her back. You couldn't care less really, why you're eavesdropping you don't know but you do focus on Alex to see him still sat there.

"I'm going to get a drink," you tell Rosie and she nods, requesting you get her one too.

As you sneak off to the kitchen to pour you both a drink, you feel a shadow, a looming presence hovering over you. And you know only one person could make your hairs stand up without even announcing they're there, and that's Alex.

"Are you done being annoyed at me yet?" He wonders, a slur to his voice that suggests he's had more than a few.

"No. Why are you talking to me anyway? You've got a girlfriend."

"You jealous?" He has a cocky smirk that you'd quite like to wipe off with the palm of your hand.

"Don't be ridiculous," you roll your eyes, challenging him with hateful eyes.

He gazes at you teasingly and your blood spikes, after all, you are just a girl. He's just a boy. And you've both seen it all before.

It makes it easy to land in bed together. You can't remember whose room this is, but you don't really care. Alex lays on top of you with his clammy hands pawing at your short dress, pulling it up until your hips and core are on show for him.

He wastes no time before ripping your panties down until they're hanging on your ankles. You kiss like you're starved of each other, Alex's tongue curving around yours, tasting of cigarettes and alcohol but you really don't mind. He's a good kisser and you've missed being touched these last few weeks.

You fiddle with his belt buckle until it's out of the way, dipping your hand in his boxers to curve it around the silky skin of his cock, he's rock hard and whimpering in your ear. He pushes one finger into you, sinking into your damp heat and you feel him twitch in your hand at the feel of your wetness.

"Fuck me Alex," you plead, he releases a growl before he stands to push his jeans and boxers down further, his eyes dark and slightly obstructed from your view from his long fringe. You run your hand through it so you can look at him, finding him gazing at you with that familiar hungriness.

He pushes into you with ease. Neither of you notice in the heat of the moment, with your drunken minds, that he's not even wearing a condom. He buries himself so deep inside of you that you heave, swearing it's touching your guts. His palms land either side of your head as his thrusts commence, hard and fast and fairly sloppy because of his state but you're in one too, so you don't complain.

He's missed your tight heat, your pussy does things to him that no one else's can. Not that he's slept with that many girls, only one other than you. But he knows it's not as good with her and so he revels in you.

"Missed your cunt," he groans into your mouth, your teeth clashing as the bed creaks beneath you both.

"Treat it better then," you clap back, your drunken words whispered into the air get lost as Alex hits your sweet spot.

"Fuck I can't last much longer," he groans as you tighten around him in response, his hips faltering now that the knot in his stomach is threatening to snap. He's sweating, the collar of his polo shirt sticking to his skin. You dig your nails into his shoulders when he moves a hand between you both and starts to rub your clit.

He'd had a hard time finding it at first, but now it was like common knowledge for him to know exactly where to touch you, exactly what to do and say to make you fall apart for him.

As he angled his hips, hitting that spot inside you over and over again, you fall apart beneath him. Your pussy tightens and it takes Alex by surprise, he groans with widened eyes that soon fall shut as his cum starts shooting inside of you. The warmth soothes your walls, blissed out and content, you lay back into the sheets that suddenly feel like you're laying on a bright white, fluffy cloud in the middle of a blue sky. The reality is different; the bass from below reverberates around the house, through your drunken veins. The throbbing of your head from the alcohol has commenced before the night has even finished. But you had a good orgasm, so you can't find it in yourself to complain.

It's not until Alex helps you up and you start to redress that you feel the cum pouring out of you, dripping down your calf.

"Alex!" You huff, he hums in response, still blissed out himself. The moonlight shining through illuminates his glowy cheeks, the sweat still glistening on his skin but making him look so, so good.

"Did you cum in me?"

He frowns, wondering what you mean until you point down at the cum running down your legs. He panics, running off to get you a tissue, stumbling drunkenly through the house. He receives a few looks from people, having forgotten to do his belt up, it clanks against the walls he falls against as he tries to be quick.

One moment he's rolling toilet roll off the holder, desperate to get back to you and panicked over what's happened. The next he finds himself clenching his stomach, the coiling in it making his head spin and his throat dry. Within seconds his head is hung over the toilet and he's projectile vomiting.

You clean yourself with his prized blue adidas jacket, hoping he can never get the stain out as you pull your panties up and leave the party, thinking he's done a runner.

The next day Alex calls you about fifty times, you don't answer once. First of all, you're severely hungover and desperate to rot in bed for the day. Second of all, you haven't forgotten that he pissed you off even if you've forgotten why.

So you're sat in bed, crunching on crisps and drinking a litre of apple juice while watching Gossip Girl. You haven't showered, your makeup from last night is still smeared all over your face and you probably smell like a brewery where all the beer is out of date.

"Y/N!" Your sister shouts, you roll your eyes and ignore her. But she repeats it, twice.

"What?" You scream back, pissed off that she's bothering you. Whoever said having sisters is fun hasn't had a harrowing, banshee of one like you do.

"Alex is here!" She shouts back. Your eyes roll again, a bad habit that perhaps comes with being eighteen and moody at the world, but you don't care. It feels like a good way to express your annoyance at things.

"Tell him to fuck off!"

"Tell him yourself bitch! I'm going out!" she shouts back, you hear the front door slam, presumably as she leaves. You pray that Alex hasn't come in but when you hear fast footsteps coming up the stairs, you know your prayers have fallen on deaf ears.

Alex doesn't even knock before barging in with a panicked expression. He looks a little worse for wear himself, his hair sticking up in every direction, skin sickly pale and prominent blue bags tainting his under eye.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You squeak, pulling the covers until only your eyes are showing. You're mortified that he's in your room, with the crisp packets and old cups littering the floor, papers from your revision strewn over your desk and panties from last week scattered between the piles of rubbish.

He doesn't seem to care, in fact his eyes only stay locked on you as he slams the door shut behind him.

"Have you gotten the pill?" He asks, ignoring your question. You hit pause on the show and shift up, wondering what he means until the memory hits you like a ton of bricks.

He watches the realisation pour onto your face and grimaces.

"I forgot to put a condom on," he swallows, "you're gonna need the morning after."

"Well that's great!" You huff, pulling the covers off. Alex's eyes linger on your pizza decorated shorts and the baggy oasis tshirt hanging over your frame.

"As if you couldn't be anymore of an arse, now I have to take a pill because of you," you storm towards your dresser, pulling out your makeup wipes so you can at least get rid of the state of your face before you leave the house with the morning after written all over it.

"You forgot as well you know," he sneers back, but then guilt fills his expression as he watches you hurriedly search through your drawers for some clothes.

"You're the one with the cock!"

"You were the one with it inside you," he bites back.

You shake your head at him, pulling down your shorts and tossing them to the side to slide your leggings on instead. Alex watches you with a cocked head, eyes moving up and down your scantily clad body as you throw your T-shirt off, bare tits popping out. You don't care what he sees of your bare body, he's seen it all before anyway.

"I'll buy it," he speaks up, trying so hard not to look at your body. He's always far more sensitive when he's hungover and right now his dick would probably stiffen if you glanced at it, let alone prancing about naked.

"I should think so."

You go to walk past him, needing to grab your socks from the drawers he happens to be stood next to, but he stops you. His hands find your waist, moving you so you're facing him.

"What are you doing?"

"Why don't we make use of it?" His voice is supposed to come out flirty but unfortunately it comes out as breathy, alluding to his desire before he's had a chance to make you want it too.

"I'm not fucking you," you're stubborn and he likes it, his lips quirk up and you battle with yours but eventually they do too. Within seconds his mouth is on yours, hot and heavy, and he's pushing you back into the mattress with only your thin panties in the way.

Alex takes you to a cafe after you guys get the pill. He'd lingered outside, handing you the cash and peering through the window while you had a small consultation. It felt dirty and wrong, you felt like some slag even though Alex was the only boy you'd slept with in months. He'd noticed you were a bit flat and asked if you wanted a coffee, which actually, you'd been enamoured by. You sat opposite each other now, in a casual situation for once where you both weren't trying anything.

"Don't you have a girlfriend now?"

He glanced up at you. You saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes before he groaned and buried his face in his hands. That's when you felt it. The feeling reviving itself of absolute disgust. Of the fact you were nothing more than a dirty shag to him. And it's not that you'd ever expected anything more, but it's just the harrowing feeling of being a hole, a pair of tits and a pretty face. They come in handy, but not when they're consistently used and then hidden as a dirty little secret.

"I'm leaving."

"Y/N," Alex gasped, he tried to grab your hand as you swanned past him but you were too quick.

"No Alex I'm not just going to be a dirty little hookup for you anymore, okay? I'm sick and tired of you treating me like I'm nothing more than a....than....than a HOLE!"

Alex looked taken aback, the fact that the entire cafe went silent signified he wasn't the only one that was. Tears pierced the corners of your eyes and you ran off quickly, severely embarrassed with red cheeks and a racing heart.

Alex followed you outside, not just because he didn't want to see you leaving him thinking that, but he couldn't possibly sit in that environment with those people after you've just shouted that out.

"I don't see you as a hole, fucking hell Y/N," he groaned, stalling you by grabbing your shoulder, "I'm not upset that I slept with you but I didn't want to cheat. Obviously."

"That's not my fault-"

"I'm not saying it is!" He cuts you off, his tongue as sharp as it was the first time you spoke to him.

"I'm sorry that I've made you feel that way Y/N. I thought you wanted to just....fuck."

"Yeah I did!" You answer hastily, "but....you know that doesn't mean we can't have a conversation Alex. I said no and you left the library like you gave no fucks about me-"

"That's what you've been annoyed about?" He gawps, eyes promising an argument as he glared at you, "you wouldn't even look at me. You didn't want me there, so I left!"

"That's an excuse!"

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is! You're as much of an arsehole as the next bloke around Sheffield Alex. The puppy dog eyes and nerdy act will only get you so far!"

"What the fuck are you going on about?" Alex looked dismayed, his hands coming up to rub his face again like he was trying to arise from a bad dream.

"Just fuck off!"

"Do you mean that? Or will you be pissed off for weeks that I listened to you?" He spits sarcastically.

You shake your head, storming off. Alex storms off in the other direction. You both have storms brewing in your minds.

It's a few days later when you see him again. His eyes wander over you as you walk into the classroom, late, with a takeaway coffee cup at hand and a face like a smacked arse. Your teacher berates you as you muster up some half arsed excuse for your tardiness. She eventually waves you off with a heavy sigh, you know she'll be glad to see the back of you in a couple of months time and you can't exactly blame her.

You sit down next to Alex, pulling your notebook out and making a ruckus as you fiddle with your pens and highlighters, lining them up opposite you on the table. And then you swing your bag under it, hard enough for it to hit his legs but he doesn't complain like he usually would.

The teacher drawls on, it's a lecture lesson today so you're bored out of your mind by the information that feels incredibly unimportant to your life. As you fiddle with your nails and kick your feet, you ponder over the future, over what you might do beyond the four walls of this building. You're distracted, lost in the haze of your thoughts, dreaming up scenarios in which you'd be travelling, drinking, having fun. Finding a way to do that through university seems unlikely but you don't let the depression of that linger, instead smiling to yourself with your head in the palms of your hands about the good things.

That's until you feel a palm on your thigh. You look over to Alex who's in a similar position to you with his head resting in his hand, his eyes clouded with boredom as they focus on the teacher. You don't push him off straight away, you wonder where he's going with this but then he suddenly pulls his hand away, leaving a white note in your lap. You frown, trying to catch his eye but he ignores you.

Meet me in the car park after college. Got my mums car for the day.

To do what? You scribble back, handing the note over to him but he ignores it, pocketing the paper before you get caught messing around.

Despite his mystique about it, you still do turn up the car park come four pm. You stand at the edge of the pavement, wondering what his mums car looks like but you don't have to ponder for long before he pulls up beside you.

You raise your eyebrows as you climb in, the sunglasses covering his eyes making you stifle a laugh, as his hands fiddle with the gearstick, tapping the plastic gently along to the beat of the song he's meticulously picked out. When he hears you giggle, he lets a smile break free.

"This isn't very nerdy of you," you humour him and he laughs.

"Good, that's what I was hoping," he says, waiting until you've got your seatbelt on before he starts driving away. You don't ask him where he's taking you and he doesn't offer the location, you just sit in comfortable silence for a while until he speaks;

"I'm sorry that I left you in the library," he says.

"It's fine. I'm over it," your nonchalance is feigned and you both know it but neither of you address that.

Alex pulls up to some gravelly car park that's void of any other cars. The weather is shite today, a combination of grey clouds and high winds, wherever he's taking you, you hope you'll be able to avoid any rain.

"I'm not going for a walk in the forest," you say as you spot the trail leading into the trees, "least of all fucking you in it."

"Fine we'll sit here then," he says, and you shrug. You expect for him to kiss you after that. Expecting to fall into the same pattern. But he doesn't, he reaches out and switches the radio off and then angles his body towards yours.

"Do you like me?" He asks.

"What?" You're baffled, your heart stopping. Everything seems to echo in this tiny space and you really don't want to give away your fears surrounding him.

"I mean....like more than what we've been....doing," his nervousness is as evident as yours. His lifts a shifty arm up to shuffle through his hair, his eyes darting from you to the window and back again.

"You have a girlfriend," you answer quickly, needing some time to stall, to process what he's asking and how you might actually answer that. Because truthfully, you don't know. In some ways you think you'd want him as more, you must do, you only shag him, spend all your time with him and he's alright to speak to, you guess. In other ways you don't understand where your feelings will lead. To dates? To cute moments? To 'I love yous'? Is that really Alex and you coded?

"I broke up with her."

"Oh wow, that lasted a while," you scoff and he raises his eyebrows.

"No need to be a cunt."

"Don't call me a cunt."

"I'm taking this all as a yes," he gestures to your defensive mechanisms and you go to argue with him again before his words register. Defeated, you slouch into the seat, realising your sharp tongue only gives you away all the more.

"Fuck off," you barely suppress the smile but it doesn't matter. Alex soon leans in with his own silly smile, pausing just before your lips. His large eyes soften, glancing between yours and your lips, parted to make way for your shaky breaths.

Alex wastes not another second before kissing you, his lips are familiar of course, soft and plump and so desperate straight off the bat. Try as he might to keep it casual, he just wants you too badly and you honestly don't feel uncomfortable with that.

"So what," you mumble against his lips, "do you like like me Turner?"

Alex pulls back slightly, rolling his eyes.

"You're on my mind," he confirms and you laugh, "my mum already thinks you're my girlfriend, so...."

"So I have to be?" You raise your eyebrow and he shrugs.

"If you want to be."

If you thought Alex was horny before, you'd been mistaken. From the moment you decided to be together, his touchiness of you increased by a tenfold, proceeding just in the solace of four walls only you two were in. Now it was everywhere.

Like in the canteen, when his friends and your friends would wait for you both but you'd be too busy stood in the smoking area, kissing each other like you were the new form of addiction for each other. Alex's hands never left you, whether they were on your waist, shoulder, arse - he didn't care, just so long as the feel of you was always right under his fingertips.

On this specific day, you guys had all gone down to the forest where he hung out with his friends. You'd invited Rosie, who was quite getting along with one of his mates. You and Alex snuck off while the blunt was being passed around, hitting it a few times before you did and then found a secluded area where he leant against a tree and you knelt in the dirt to suck his cock.

His hands roughly trailed through your hair, his push on your head leaving no room for breathing as you took him down your throat. And then, as always with Alex, he'd bury himself right in the back of it when he came, halting there to make sure his cum would slide down your throat without the choice to spit it out.

You returned to the group with dirt on your knees, flushed cheeks and bashful giggles. Of course his friends teased and Rosie gave you a look but you'd just brush it off, not really arsed by their teasing.

There was another time when Alex was round yours. You were sat on the settee watching something with your sister, your parents had gone out for the night. Her being busy on her phone gave Alex the chance to kiss you, and once he'd started well....of course he couldn't stop.

Your tongues mingled, breaths cut short and little hums of satisfaction escaping you both as you got more eager. Alex had started to grow, grateful for the fact your legs were sprawled over his lap so your sister wouldn't be able to see it.

"Ew! Do you guys ever stop?" she suddenly said, standing up and throwing a pillow at you. You pulled apart meekly, looking up at her with sorry shrugs that you didn't really mean. She left the room in a huff and you heard music blaring from the bathroom shortly after.

Alex took you on the settee, had you riding him reverse cowgirl so he could watch your arse bounce and you could keep an eye on the door.

You just couldn't get enough of each other, and what was so weird about it all was that you'd merely scraped a hand over his thigh in class one day. And now you had a smart, sexy, sarky boyfriend who had a funny, beautiful, annoying girlfriend in the form of you.

And all of that had led to this moment. This very moment where your parents were out, you and Alex had made dinner and had wine with it like two sophisticated adults. Both of you were a little hazy and giggly, taking advantage of the time alone since it came so rarely.

This time when he fucked you, it felt different. There was something in it, something unspoken. He drove into you slowly, one hand caressing your thigh, the other holding the headboard. His thrusts were slow and deep, hitting that spot with intent to please and you were moaning under him, staring up at that gorgeous face and those gorgeous eyes that were sparkling with adoration.

You felt him pulsing inside of you, his release imminent and even though you weren't quite there, you didn't mind when he spilled into you. You were on the pill after the mishap from before, so Alex revelled in filling you up, obsessed with seeing his cum drip out of you afterward.

As his cock was twitching and his mouth released groan after groan, somewhere in that his eyes grew glossy.

"I love you."

"What?" You whispered, baffled at the admission. Not that you didn't feel the same, more the fact that you weren't expecting it to fall from his lips first, and especially not so soon.

"I said I love you," he trembled as his orgasm ceased, the lingering feeling of euphoria was the only remnants along with his cum, pouring out of you as he slowly pulled out.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," he kissed your lips, eyes full of content but there was humour there too. You couldn't believe him, and he couldn't believe that. How couldn't he love you? You were perfect, he counted himself lucky.

"I love you too," you blush as the words leave your mouth, burying your head into his shoulder and he laughs at your shyness, pulling you back so he can nuzzle his nose against yours.

"Right, that's good then," he hums against your swollen lips, parting in a groan as his fingers find your clit, "now let me make you cum."

🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩

A/N: to the one person who said to post this (ily). It’s really not that thought out im just obsessed with young him. Enjoy (under edited as per) 😗🙂‍↕️

#alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner x fem!reader #arctic monkeys #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you

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